#i will b doing book club with week ...

[beeelderly]

i need to hang out so bad.

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 6

pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader, Grid x Reader

summary: you and lance have a talent for traumating the grid *insert emotional damage meme here*

requests open masterlist

———————————

It was safe to say that that you and Lance were still very much in your honeymoon phase when you got to testing. Both of you very tan from your weeks spent on the beach.

“Y/n! You surprised the world when you announced your marriage and name change, Anything you want to say about it?” One of your favorite interviewers asks you as you walk hand in hand to the paddock with Lance.

“Sure, yeah. Lance and I have been together for a long time, so getting married was just the natural next step. It was a small wedding with close friends and family. Regarding my new name, alittle over a year ago, Kimi offered to mentor me and we forged a very close bond. He is basically my father and his kids are my siblings, so with the blessing of the family I wanted to honor the relationship the best way I knew how. Racing under the Räikkönen name is such a huge honor and I can’t thank my dad and family enough for the honor,” you beam, more than happy to talk about your family.

“How did Kimi react when you told him you were taking his name both legally and when racing,” she asks, your joy infectious.

“He was so happy, I told him at the wedding, yeah. We are such a tight family, I can’t thank them enough for bringing me into their family and allowing me to take their last name. And Lance has been wonderful about it, he actually suggested hyphenating the names,” you tell her. Usually you are pretty tight lipped, but you with happily talk with her.

“Alright, onto what actually matters. How are you feeling going into testing with Red Bull?” she asks and you take a step back into your normal interview style.

“Good. I certainly miss Checo here, but the car feels good. We will see how testing goes and work from there,” Lance gives you a look that says you will be late and the journalist notices.

“Thanks for chatting, and congratulations,” she says and you nod in thanks before walking away.

“You look very hot today, Mrs Räikkönen-Stroll,” Lance says kissing the side of your head.

“Maybe so, but nothing compares to you post race,” your cheeks flame a little. Lance pulls you into a small alley between motorhomes. You are pressed against the wall as Lance kisses you, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

“OH MY GOD!” you hear Daniel shriek.

“MY EYES!” Valtteri screams. Lance quickly pulls away from you as the four of you look at each like deer in the headlights. Daniel and Valtteri quickly walk away, leaving you and Lance giggling like school kids.

The club atmosphere was off when you walked in, taking a seat beside Logan. Valtteri can’t look you in the eyes while Daniel isn’t sure whether his is proud or scarred for life.

“Fernando, I was not aware of your taste in books,” Nico says, a little flushed thinking about what they had to read.

“Yeah, a smut book? We do have innocent eyes here,” Kevin looks at you and Logan.

“Innocent?” Logan asks, a breathy laugh behind it.

“The beach scene?” Lewis suggests you all start on.

“The writing was phenomenal, the author really captured the emotions and sensations. It read so raw, so lifelike. It was one of the few times that art imitated life. She captured every intimate thought and feeling that a woman gets when she is having sex. I remember during the honeymoon when Lance and I did something similar on the private beach and wow, the author really nailed it,” you say, not quite realizing what you had just revealed to the group.

“Damn, Y/n, I didn’t realize you and Lance were freaks like that. Respect,” Daniel says, never being one to shy away from sex. Your face twists in mortification at what you unintentionally revealed. The guys look at eachother mortified as well.

You were an adult, they knew that, but in their subconscious mind you haven’t done anything more than kiss a boy. That’s how you end up following them as they storm across the paddock.

“Logan! Help me stop them,” you look at him with panic in your eyes as the group nears the Aston Martin garage.

“Hell no, this is so funny,” he says and you huff. You see the guys cornering Lance.

“YOU RUINED OUR DAUGHTER?!” Fernando yells at his teammate. You just want to sink into a corner and die, similar to how Lance appears.

“Our precious, innocent, child. What’s next? Logan has slept with a girl?” Valtteri says.

“HEY!” Logan yells in offense. The guys’ faces drain of more color.

“You too? This isn’t ok,” Kevin says and you spot Max and Lando trying not to laugh, the two of them having seen the commotion and wanted to check it out.

“I think you guys are forgetting that the three of us are consenting adults, we aren’t kids anymore,” you say softly, Logan and Lance standing by you, the latter still scared.

“Tell that to Kimi,” Nico chuckles and you groan at the mention of your dad.

“Alright, stop harassing my teammate, we have meetings,” Max breaks everyone up, leading you away.

“Thanks, Maxie,” you let out a breath of relief.

“Do I want to know?” he laughs.

“No, I don’t think so,” you return his laugh. You just hope that your book club meeting will be smoother tomorrow morning.

The next morning, you walk into the room happy and perky as usual.

“You okay, Fernando?” Logan asks when he notices Fernando on his third cup of coffee and the tiredness in his eyes.

“The hotel has thin walls. My hotel room shares a wall with Lance’s,” Fernando says, giving you a look that makes you blush in embarrassment, wishing the earth would open up and eat you whole.

“It is natural. They are young and in love, maybe we will have a baby Stroll soon,” Lewis says and your eyes light up.

“We will!” you say, quickly pulling out your phone. The older drivers hearts sink, all slightly panicking. “Oh my god, I’m not pregnant guys, we are just getting a puppy,” you laugh at their faces.

“I would like to make a motion to kick Y/n out of the book club due to the amount of emotional distress she has given the members this weekend,” Valtteri says, and your jaw drop.

“Alright alright, but you don’t understand the almost of trauma I went through having rooms that neighbored all of you during my first year here,” you point your finger at all of them.

“Motion denied,” Daniel sighs, knowing he was probably one of the main culprits.

“So, this dog?” Nico says, changing the subject.

instagram

y/username EVERYONE MEET MY BABY!

since I’m too young to have a baby (according to the club) here is my baby holding our baby, Milo Stroll ❤️🐾🐶

logansargeant look at how big his paws are! he’s gonna be a big boy 😍

y/username his favorite uncle 🥰

danielricciardo @y/username I take offense to that

user1 y/n really had me in the first half

nicohulkenberg she had us too the first time she brought up Milo in conversation

lancestroll what a hot mama 😮‍💨

y/username nothing compared to the absolute DILF holding my sweet puppy in the picture

georgerussel MY EYES! MY INNOCENT EYES

[bunbotbuggiman]

au where the peak lords reincarnate as Bingge's quarter demon spawn

saw a post (https://www.tumblr.com/cursed-angelic-art/686056254886559744/do-you-think-mobei-jun-is-the-one-playing-father) talking abt if mbj "played dad" for og lbh's army of kids and-

au where the peak lords reincarnate as Bingge's quarter demon spawn

they all have different mothers but are all the same age- were born the same year-

even sqq, who's nyy's favorite kid (because he reminds her of her shizun, during the good days before lbh became a disciple) despite not being her kid (she herself never had any kids, which doesn't bother her as much because neither did lmy or shl and they're the head wives still so) (in the same vein, Liu Mingyans favorite kid is the one who behaves most like her late brother)

This world's version of Shen Yuan, however, was born as the son of one of mbj's advisors, before said advisor and his family died in a tragic accident. so he was adopted by mobei-jun and shang qinghua at the ripe old age of barely a few weeks old.

His name: Mo Yuan, named after an old friend of Shang Qinghua's from his secret pre-transmigration life (In this world, SY is not a transmigrator.... maybe he is a reincarnation.... but there's no real way to tell, he sure doesn't remember anything)

So he's an ice demon. looks like Shen Yuan but everything about him is like 30 shades more MBJ. he adores his parents, and his parents adore him, and because of this mutual adoration he has successfully grown up completely secure in his status as their child in spite of fully knowing of his adopted status.

This being said, there are very few individuals who also know this fact, because since the transition was so fast (and because Shang Qinghua knows stuff, and Mobei-Jun knows he knows stuff) they just bullshit it and say that Mo Yuan is a magical plant baby who was born as a full demon in spite of technically being a half demon because of magic plant bullshit.

He looks enough like shang qinghua to make it believable anyways, so it's fine.

Mo Yuan and Shang Qinghua also have a really weird relationship where MY at some point got into Shang Qinghua's writings (only the age appropriate stuff.... he found out about the porn at a later age) and violently hated it, but Shang Qinghua found it:

A. funny that his son was so violently opinionated and

B. thought it was important that his son be able to have an outlet for these emotions so he honestly encouraged it.

So now they have a really close parental relationship but also are kind of friendly-close because when Mo Yuan found some of SQH's writings, he immediately was like "oh my god Baba you suck???? at writing????? How?????? You are a scribe???? This is so awful???? Baba, you could do this better, and this better, and- what the hell, take this out, oh my god..."

Also, his name in the au is 漠垣 Mo Yuán meaning North[ern] Wall, but his courtesy name is 漠 雪峰 Mo Xuefēng, meaning North[ern] Snow[y] Peak.

However, he is beloved by much of the palace staffers, who have watched him grow up much closer than any of Luo Bingge's children, who mostly grow up in the relative isolation of their courtyards and palaces and palace wings, so he is referred to by many of them by his nickname, 雪花 Xuehua, meaning snowflake.

So anyways, he meets + kinda grows up alongside many of the peak lords because he grows up spending a lot of time in the palace by virtue of his dads being, well, Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua.

Shang Qinghua and Liu Mingyan, shippers prime and book club buddies into this universe (though Mo Yuan staunchly ignores all of LMY's writings because his face is wayyy too thin for that) immediately sees the way that the various children of Luo Bingge climb over each other in desperate attempts to charm and woo the chilly Mo Xuefeng...

and maybe eventually, how one son of Luo Bingge looks at him and how Mo Yuan looks back.

(I haven't decided what I want the pairing to be here.... oopsies y'all, come to y'alls own conclusions ig lmaooo)

[tastelikezweig]

SFW ALPHABET

⚠️ warnings: not edited, i do NOT feel like reading this over lol so please just point and laugh i don’t care. suggestive language :D (i do use the f word a few times, oopsy.) if anything else needs to be added, pls let me know.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

he’s a huge fan of kissing. he’s gentle. when he sleeps over in your dorm, he’ll wake you up with pecks all over your face and neck. after your matches, he’s waiting right outside the locker room ready to high five you because you’re super sweaty. not that he sees an issue with that. he would love to pick you up and spin you around, chest to chest. he’d drink a bottle of your perspiration if he could. but you don’t allow it because you feel gross when you’re all sweaty and stinky from the match you just played. he loooves to be all over you. physical touch is his love language. it’s one of the things you love most about him. you love how sweet he is to everyone. when he walks you to your afternoon lecture, he holds the door open for every single last one of your classmates. he doesn’t let you lift a finger. he thinks that you deserve to just exist and be pretty and smart and save up your energy for the sweetest make out session he has planned with you after your class is over. he loves PDA, just holding your hand as you walk through the quad, kissing your cheeks and eyelids while you both sit the dining hall. he wishes he could consume you and live in your skin. it’s so cute and teeth rotting that people hate hanging out with either of you if the other is around.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

you had begged tashi duncan to train you for upcoming finals. when your practice came to an end, her boyfriend, patrick and his friend art came to see her. you cracked jokes about being the third and fourth wheel. he told you he felt like this all the time. you joked saying how you should start your own club and leave them out. whenever tashi and patrick would exclude you and art from their plans, you met up with him and just enjoyed each other's company. he’d make sandwiches and bring mini gatorade (your favorite flavor because he remembers the small details) for you both to sit in the quad and just eat and talk all evening until it got dark out. or until tashi or patrick called either of you to hang out after their “date” (which is obviously just them fucking in her dorm).

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

again, his love language is physical touch. he loves to hold you in bed while you read a book or just to fall asleep. you’ll be laying flat on your stomach playing with his new nintendo ds he just bought - he’d just finish showering or something and he’d crawl right on top of you. towel still hanging on his waist and hair dripping water. he’d ask “can we cuddle?” and you don’t think twice about it before rolling over and embracing him. give him a few kisses on the jaw before resting on his chest and breathing him in. your scents like melatonin for each other.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

when you and art hit a year of dating, he wouldn’t shut up about marriage. you’d remind him you’re still so young and he would go, i know, but when we get older! he loves being around you, you go grocery shopping together so you can have snacks; you’d feel like husband and wife. you would both joke about baby names but the ones you actually did like (that he’d suggested) you wrote down on a little sticky note and inserted it into your diary under the page titled: little pieces of art ᥫ᭡

art keeps his dorm clean majority of the time since he’s met you. the most you’ve seen it messy is when patrick is there for the weekend or his week is super busy but he always attempts to at least tidy the room before inviting you over. art cannot cook for shit but neither can you, so your future kids are fucked. but art can make delicious sandwiches if that counts!!

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

art is the most genuine person you know and he hates seeing your eyes tear up even just watching a movie. his heart clenches at the sight. he wouldn’t want to break up with you but things are just getting so crowded in your personal lives between trying to maintain school, work, tennis, and your relationship. you picked up a job at the nearest bookstore to help pay for your school books. you weren’t necessarily as loaded as art was. he offered to help but you just couldn’t accept any handouts. it made you feel weird. you’d be so tired after your shifts or have to go straight from class or practice to work and you never had time for him anymore. a few texts throughout the week but for someone as needy as art, it wasn’t enough. you’d accidentally stand up your dates with him because you’d fall asleep directly after class. he’d be ringing your phone and you’re out like a light. you apologized a million times and he agreed to just reschedule. on your rescheduled date it was a bit of awkward silence and lots of staring into each other's eyes. i feel like we rarely see each other anymore he’d say, tracing circles on the thighs of his jeans. you tried to explain to him how hard you were trying but he just shook his head staring into the distance. attempting to stop his tears from spilling over. the breakup was mutual, with a kiss goodbye. it actually wasn’t a forever goodbye, just for a little while until things made sense again. (You had to be the reason bc he’d NEVER leave you).

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

he wants to get married as soon you both graduate from college. he’s adorable isn’t he? it’s gonna be a no. “okay fine, not yet. but don’t fall in love with anybody else. please.”

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he wouldn’t be rough with you unless you wanted him to be. 9 times out of 10 he’s very soft with you. his hands melting like butter on your shoulders when you ask him to massage them after matches. he’d run his hands up and down your back which makes you fall asleep almost instantly. he’s very kind with his words. when you’re upset about school or anything really he’s always there with a listening ear, very understanding. brushing the hair out of your face when he can tell your homework is frustrating you. suggests taking breaks which almost always just means a mini make out sesh until you remember you’re in the library and people are judging. you care about what outsiders think but he only has eyes for you, prioritizing your happiness above all else. he loves to kiss.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

his hugs are firm. you never want him to let you go. you love being in his grip. you could be standing in the dining hall line and he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders while you wait for the line to move. when your matches are over and you’re fully showered, he’d hug you, lifting you off of the ground. when you meet up for dates or just to hang out, he’ll grab at your lower waist and sway you side to side.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

3 months in. you were laying in the grass on the quad next to tashi and patrick, enjoying the nice cool breeze and people watching. it was stanford’s 120th anniversary, so they held a firework show. as the finale was going off, art turned to you, staring into your eyes. i love you. surprisingly, you said it first. but he followed immediately after. he fell in love with you weeks ago but he didn’t wanna freak you out. so he was glad you gave him the green light.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

he gets jealous, not very easily because he trusts you. it’s very rare he’ll act out but you’ll know something’s wrong when he goes completely mute. you’ll ask him if he’s okay, and he’ll respond ‘yup’ popping the p. he’s so sassy. earlier, he saw the guy you were talking to put his hand on your shoulder to whisper something in your ear. what’s the secret? did he have to put his hands on you? again, he trusted you, he just doesn’t trust them. you reassured him that the next time someone does something similar, you’ll kick them in the balls and he cracks a smile. and just like that, you’re back on his good side. he’s never upset for long.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

his kisses are sweet, tender, and so yummy. especially since he quit smoking. he uses a grapefruit flavored chapstick that he found in your desk a while ago and has just been using ever since. did i say you could have that? he just hums in response, sucking your lips in for another kiss.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

he wants two little ones. either a boy and a girl, or two girls. he plans on spoiling them rotten.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

when he spends the night in your room or you sleep in his, he’ll make your bed for you while you shower (or make up his own). it’s actually nice, because he helps pack your bag the night before with your essentials and fills up both of your water bottles. but anyway, he’ll heat up something in the microwave for you both to share until you can make it to the dining hall for breakfast. after about an hour after eating, you both go on a 30 minute run before parting ways for your classes of the day. he misses you all day until he can see your face again :((((

art donaldson: miss u so much already

you: i left 3 mins ago lolll.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

as mentioned before, he’ll help you prepare for the next day. if he sleeps over, he’ll organize your desk while you’re in the shower, you’ll brush your teeth together and do face masks on the weekends. it’s really cute. if he’s not over in your dorm, he’ll send you a cute little text telling you to have a goodnight, or call you while you wind down just to hear your voice before he closes his eyes.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he’s a pretty shy boy. when you’d first met, he kept the dialogue short to avoid coming off as an annoying yapper (which he totally is) so you did most of the talking. when he gets comfortable, during one of your first few hangouts alone - you asked if he could help with your math assignment and he agreed. you got bored instantly and started asking him a fuck ton of questions about himself. he answers everything without thinking twice. he even accidentally let it slip that he once had a crush on his best friends girlfriend (which he scolded himself for almost immediately after). you just smiled and nodded the whole time trying to watch him save his own ass.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

he’ll be waiting for you after your class and it might run over time a little bit, he’ll grab a seat on the floor in the hall or on the bench outside and just wait for you. draw little doodles of you or your favorite flowers in his sketchbook. if you text him in enough time, he’ll bring you your favorite smoothie. he can’t wait til your class is over so he can kiss your pretty face that he’s missed all day.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

art is very attentive. he knows every step in your skincare routine. he has the order memorized. when you’re done with the first step, he’s already handing you step two. he knows the gum flavor you prefer, your class schedule, your practice schedule, etc. what he doesn’t seem to remember is to put the toilet seat down after he’s done. he’d mumble sorry and then proceed to do it again 30 mins later.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

he took you to the state fair and you both stayed at the ring toss for like an hour. you were so determined you were going to win - you spent $50 for 10 tries. you didn’t even win but while you were in the bathroom, he bribed the man $100 to let him have the huge stuffed penguin that you wanted to win so bad. when you came out you screamed “did you win me this?!” he just went along with it because he adored the smile on your face and the joy in your voice, he loved the thought of him making you the happiest girl ever.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

he treats you like you’re accident prone or something like when you squat down to pick up something that fell underneath the table, he covers the sharp edges to make sure you don’t hit your head. he double checks to make sure your laces are tied on the court and you slide your foot back and remind him, you’re not a child and you can tie your own shoes!!! he just doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. walks you to your dorm if it’s dark. calls you during your early morning runs without him. if you get into it with one of the girls on the team, he doesn’t intervene because you always tell him to stay out of women’s business, but if it involves a guy, he’s on that immediately. he doesn’t even want you engaging in their weird behavior. he argues for you but you’re definitely in the background ad-libbing.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he tries super hard but tries not to seem suffocating. he fits everything in his life around your schedule. he has a gift for you for any anniversary, 1 month, 1 year, birthdays, etc. he takes you out to celebrate your wins even if that just means getting you a chocolate croissant from your favorite cafe down the street. whatever you want, whenever you want it. anything to keep you happy. he wants to set the bar so high that you’re not looking any other guy's way.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

leaving the toilet seat up, going silent when he’s jealous, stepping out of his clothes in the bathroom and leaving them there in a pile, as much as you love it, he’ll drop everything for you on the spot. you’ll see him with his friends outside and go to greet them. he’ll tell you they’re going to hang out at his friends place and you mention you’re also hanging out, going to the theater with your friend and he’ll say never mind, can I go with you? and you shut it down quickly “no go hang out with your own friends!” and they’d all clown him afterwards.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

he’s chill. he doesn’t really have a style, he wears whatever is clean. his closet is full of stanford merch and you tell him he needs to go shopping but he’ll say “what i’m wearing is just fine, thank you.” see. sassy.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

he literally can’t breathe without you it seems like. you’re his heartbeat. he’s feeling whatever emotion you’re feeling.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

he communicates his affection through small gestures, like holding hands during quiet walks or wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders when you’re watching a movie together. words aren't always necessary to convey his feelings.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

hates loud chewing of food, but you argue that he does it too - with his gum. defending people when he’s arguing with them ‘why do you do that?’ you just keep it real. tashi called his ball out and he was arguing that she isn’t valid, but she’s right :( it was definitely out.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

sleeps with his mouth open, so he often gets a sore throat lol, his arm draped across your chest or back. legs tangled with yours. has to be touching you in some way to fall asleep when you’re together.

sorry if this sucks, bye!

[hoe4sports]

“I wanted tall, I wanted green eyes”

Jessie Fleming x reader

A/N: mentions of symptoms of the flu. Denial of being gay. This is a part of my new Jessie series called 10x better. It’s based off of the song x10 better by Marielle Craft. There will be multiple parts.

-

You groaned as you ripped the paper out of your workbook before cramming it into a ball and chucking it towards the bin. It was close to summer, and the last month of College was wrapping up. You hadn’t really wanted to do college, but you didn’t have anything else going on so your parents pulled some strings to get you into UCLA’s prestigious engineering program going with a major in material engineering. The school had a decent track program where you had excelled into a good athlete. Luckily you had found yourself a bouquet of girls in class and in track who sticked together with you through the college years. The group of you went through all kinds of hardships together as you gradually turned into adults. That had led you to sitting with the girls at a table in the library‘s area specifically dedicated to group projects and talking.

«I cant for the life of me figure this out. It just won’t stick! It really makes no sense.” You huffed at Aubrey who looked just as lost as you did. Normally, you were a decent student. Getting good grades; mostly A’s and B’s but you had the occasional C+. It didn’t bother you at all, grades and school wasn’t what defined you as a human. “What part is it that your stuck on? Maybe I can help?” Your friend Mia suggested. You dramatically flipped your textbook towards her to let her see the materials you were struggling with. She read through the page quickly before taking off her glasses dramatically. “You are on your own kid, I barely passed the test about that part.” It left you with rolling your eyes as you huffed again.

«What about that boyfriend of yours? Isn’t he like supersmart? William or whatever his name was» Ella teased as you laid your head down on the table and covered it with the book. “Ugh” you said. “Ooo, trouble in paradise!” Amalia teased. You sat up and crossed your arms as you shook your head. “Guys, cut her some slack. Y/N, I have a friend who is really smart. She plays soccer with me, I could give you her number” Mia suggested causing everyone to shut up. You sat up interested. “I’m listening” Mia smiled. “Her name is Jessie, she’s the smartest person I know! She told me that I could always ask for help so I supposed I can lend you my favor.” “Deal!” You said as you handed over your phone for Mia to type in the number of your saviour.

—

You sat infront of the big mirror in your down curling your hair like a last minute touch up. Your boyfriend had blown you off once again for studying, so you had decided to hit up Jessie so she could help you study. William was always so busy, always studying or going to his little clubs. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, but he was just there. Life hadn’t handed over a boyfriend before college, so when William asked; you jumped on it. It wasn’t like people describe it. Like butterflies, romance and giggles. It was just like a friend that you would kiss occasionally. You had settled on the thought of you be a-romantic or asexual, it was painful to know that you were never going to experience the bliss, the romance and the tickling sensation of a relationship. It wasn’t something you wanted people to know, so you decided to keep it to yourself. It was the ugly truth, but it was still the truth that you had to deal with.

-

You sat in the library, waiting for this mystery Jessie to pull up. She was late, 13 minutes late. You hated people who were late, but you made an assumption that practice had ran late. You took a sip of your smoothie as you looked out of the big window infront of you. It was already dark outside, but the campus was buzzing. People were getting ready to push through the last few weeks of school before finishing college. Some of the students already had landed good jobs, some had gotten accepted into further studies, some had planned for a gap year and some people, like you, had no clue what to do. You just didn’t know what was in store for you. Your parents expected you to get a high paying job, but you just wanted to live. They wanted you to get married and have kids. You wanted to travel the world. You had talent in track, and you were pretty close to becoming an established runner in the 1500m and the 3000m. The expectations didn’t fit your dreams, but after all; you could chase your dreams once your parents had passed.

“Y/N?” A voice said behind cutting of your chain of thoughts leaving you to jump in your chair causing all the hairs on your body to rise. You practically whacked your head around somewhat resembling an owl as you turned to the girl next to you. “You are Y/N, right?” The girl said. “Uhm, yea. You must be Jessie? Mia’s friend?” You asked as you desperately tried to shake yourself out of the state of shock. “Yes, correct! I’m sorry for being late, practice went over and I had to shower so I wouldn’t stink out the library” she said as she turned into a shade of light pink. «I get it, i do track» you said as you gestured for Jessie to sit down in front of you. “Here, I brought you a smoothie as a thank you” you said as you pointed towards the cup next to her. Jessie politely accepted as she took a sip before beginning the session.

After a few hours of Jessie explaining the chapter tremendously, you were starting to slowly understand it. At least, enough for you to study the rest the following day. You were busy packing up your backpack with your books, MacBook and iPad when Jessie tapped your shoulder. “Wanna grab something to eat before bedtime?” Jessie’s suggestion was music to your ears as you loved food.

-

At the dining hall, it was pretty much empty. The large room was quiet, like all of the energies had gone to bed and left for the evening. It was a nice hall with tall walls and decent food. You grabbed a piece of pizza, some salad and a Pepsi Mac. Jessie grabbed Fanta to her Mac and cheese. Your conversation was flowing, and Jesse was quite funny. The sight of Jessie was adorable. She had this amazing aura that your soul craved to be around. Her freckles were cute, like a sky of stars in the middle of the night. And her eyes? Oh god, they felt warm and safe. The was she told stories enchanted you. She was the perfect woman, and that confused you. Not perfect like you wanted to be her, but like you wanted to be with her?

You were snapped out of your dreaming when Jessie called your name. “Hm? Sorry? I got distracted” You said as you took a bite of your pizza while waiting for Jessie. “I asked if you wanted to study tomorrow? I have practice at 5.30, but I’m free by 7” she said as you nodded. Oh god, did you seem desperate? Why were you like this? It felt like your skin was on fire. “Uh, yea, I have track at 5, but I’m free after 7” you confirmed as you changed the subject talking about how Mia had ended up falling asleep in a bush after a party during your freshman year.

After eating, Jessie insisted on following you back to your dorm. The walk from the community building to your dorm was refreshing. The chill spring air was crisp, cooling down your burning skin. It made your curled hair blow in the wind, just like in one of the dumb teenage movies you watched as a kid. The wind was however leaving you slightly cold as you had just worn a simple tank top with flowers printed on it for the day. You felt your body forcing you into a slight shiver, but before you were able to say something; Jessie had already wrapped her jacket around you.

When you reached your dorm, Jessie hugged you goodbye. She insisted on you keeping her jacket until tomorrow’s session which you honestly didn’t mind. You swung the door open as you waved after her and slipped into the dorm before flopping down on your bed with your backpack still on and your face looking up into the ceiling. Your skin felt even warmer now, it was practically boiling hot and your stomach was hurting. It felt uneasy, like it was tickling. It wasn’t a common feeling, and you were hoping that it wasn’t gonna turn into the y when you had plans with Jessie the next day.

“So, how was it?” Mia said as you looked into the ceiling. “Normal, it was studying” you said as you touched your burning cheeks with your cool hand. “Girl, you are blushing! Do you like Jessie?” Mia asked with seriousness in her voice. “I’m not blushing! Jessie is a friend, and I’m not into girls” you tried to advocate for yourself, but it turned out to be a miserable attempt of redemption. “You are not into girls? You came in her all smiling with stars in your eyes” she suggested as you sat up in your bed to look at her. Sure, Jessie was fun, kind, caring, sincere, smart. Pretty much all the positive verbs in the English language, but did that mean that you liked Jessie. “Besides my stomach hurts and I feel feverish, so I’m gonna go to bed miss noisy” you said as you took off Jessie’s jacket.

Mia raised an eyebrow at you. “Jessie’s jacket? You are not feverish; it’s called blushing. Your stomach dosent hurt; it’s called being in love. You like Jessie, and it’s okay! William is as interesting as drying paint” Mia finished as she grabbed her book and got cozy in her bed. “I don’t like girls! And William is tall and he has green eyes” you said as you hid your face in your pillow. Could it be that you actually liked Jessie? It wasn’t possible because you were aromantic. “Is that the best words you can use to describe him? Girl, get your ass down to earth! It’s okay to have a little crush! Mia continued as you buried your face even deeper down in the pillow. She had a point, but you were not sure. You felt like you couldn’t trust yourself. You ended up huffing in a respond hoping Mia would let you off the hook.

“I don’t know who you are trying to convince out of us two; but it’s not me.”

[captainfern]

Hello!! I’ve got book club brain worms..it was so cute hehe ❤️ but what if angst: reader is KIA, the boys filtering into readers room and take their designated spots leaving room in the middle where reader should’ve been before falling asleep. Sometimes they light the candle and when it’s running low one night they all show up with the exact same candle. Everything in readers remains the same as it was before that mission, except now on the desk is 4 additional candles.

Alt reader just gets injured and has to stay in the medbay so the boys take it upon themselves to get into the book club positions on the tiny cot until a doctor shoos them out (they do this frequently enough the doc leaves them be)

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"Okay, Maybe This Is A Book Club."

141 x gn!reader [platonic!]

[Imagines 1 follow-up]

[SFW]

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• summary - the 141 bring your book club to the med-bay :) • rating - sfw • wordcount - 1.1k • warnings - none

NO ANGST AHHH

but the medbay idea is cute !

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You'd gotten injured during one of the missions.

You couldn't remember much, but you do remember clearing a dark building with Ghost and Soap exchanging jokes in your ear-piece. The next thing you knew, the building exploded around you and you lost consciousness.

Turns out that yeah, the building exploded and you were somehow lucky enough not to explode along with it. Ghost and Soap fished you out of the wreckage, and they carried you to medical evac over three and a half miles away.

Two weeks on, you lay in the med-bay, injuries slowly healing with the care from the nurses. You were doing alright, and the boys would visit you often, but strict visiting hours meant they weren't allowed to stay for much longer after dark.

The boys hadn't admitted it yet, but they missed you. Additionally, they missed you reading to them. It had been an act of normalcy in their lives, and now it was gone, they felt empty without it. Gaz tried to pick up a new book and read to Soap and Ghost, but it just wasn't the same. Price didn't even want to listen to anyone else but you.

They missed your little book club. They missed the calm that came with it, and the warmth of your presence. While you were healing, they didn't want to trouble you with their woes. But now that you were feeling better, and on the cusp of returning to work, they figured that now was as good a time as any.

After your nurse had finished tending to you, she left you alone in the small, sterile room. You sipped at a cup of tea, sitting up in the bed, a book folded out across your lap. It was dark outside, a light patter of rain hitting the window.

The door creaked open, and you looked up in pleasant surprise to see Ghost, Soap, Price and Gaz trailing in, one after the other. You chuckled when they all shuffled towards your bed, loitering around it awkwardly, like children waiting to ask their mother for something.

You smiled at them, placing your cup of tea to the side. "What are you guys doing here? The nurse'll kick you out if she catches you."

Slowly, Soap— who'd had his hands behind his back— moved his hands around his body, holding up a book. He held it proudly towards you, smiling bashfully. You cocked your head to the side, taking the book tentatively.

"What's this for?" You asked, moving the book you'd been reading alone off your lap and onto the table at the bedside. "I already have a book."

Soap bounced nervously on the balls of his feet. "Well, we were wondering if you'd... you know... read to us?"

You looked between the four men gathered at your bedside. "You... want me to read to you?"

All four of them nodded.

"Aww," you pouted. "Do you miss our little book club?"

"It's not a book club." Ghost grumbled beneath his mask.

You shot him a pointed look, lifting the book in your hand and wiggling it in his direction. He sighed, shaking his head slowly. You imagined him smiling softly beneath his balaclava.

"Okay, maybe this is a book club." He muttered, and Soap and Gaz beamed from beside him.

You chuckled, but then looked helplessly around the narrow hospital bed. You gestured at the lack of room. "You guys aren't going to fit—"

"Not with that attitude!" Soap grinned and as he said that, Gaz was already clambering in beside you.

You laughed, shuffling over and making room for Gaz to slot in beside you. He was careful to move slowly, his legs hanging off the bed, his head resting in your lap, looking up at you with an expectant smile.

Ghost, Price and Soap grabbed visitors chairs from the edge of the room, dragging them over.

Soap pulled his chair near the head of the bed so he could lay his head up against your side, hooking one of his arms around yours, tracing his fingers up the soft skin of your forearm. Ghost and Price settled their chairs as close to the end of the bed as possible, with Ghost being parallel to your knees so he could rest a gloved hand over them, and Price being beside him, a hand settling into place at your ankle.

You smiled, feeling warm and comfortable. The aches and pains of your injuries seemed to disappear with the four pairs of eyes on you.

You shook your head softly to yourself, mumbling a laugh as you opened to the first page of the book and began to read.

The boys listened intently for the first ten-ish minutes, caught up on every word that fell from your mouth. However, as the night dragged on, they grew sleepier and sleepier— something you were familiar with during "book club" back in your own room.

While you were reading, you had been periodically petting at Soap's head, combing your fingers through his mohawk gently. He'd fallen asleep by the way his breathing slowed, and his hand had stopped drawing shapes on your forearm, just resting there. Gaz was asleep, too. He usually was the first one to go. Head on your lap, a hand on your thigh, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks.

You paused the reading, looking up. Price had his head down, arms folded over his chest. Asleep.

Ghost had folded himself half over the bed, his upper body against the mattress with his arms resting over your knees, almost hugging your legs. His lower body was still seated on the chair, and you wondered how he even managed to fall asleep like that.

As you closed the book, the door to the room opened and your nurse popped her head inside. She had her mouth open to speak, but caught herself, looking around the room in confusion, taking in the four men piled like sleeping dogs around your bed.

"Um...?" She prompted, and you shrugged at her.

Usually, she'd kick them out— she'd done so on three separate occasions. Once, when Price stayed past visiting hours to catch you up on, quote, "all the trouble the boys had been in lately". Twice, when Soap and Gaz smuggled contraband (snacks) in at two in the morning, along with Gaz's laptop, so you could catch up on RuPaul's Drag Race. Thrice, when Ghost somehow managed to bypass security an hour before midnight just so he could show you funny photos of Soap he'd taken throughout the day.

The nurse had given up by this point.

"Just... make sure they're out before the day nurses start their shift." The nurse said, turning off the light before ducking out of the room and closing the door behind her.

You smiled, placing the book on the bedside table, careful not to disturb the sleeping men hunkering around you. Like clockwork, you pet Soap and Gaz's heads gently, before reclining back in your bed, wriggling to find a comfortable position. You felt Ghost's arms hug your legs tighter.

You loved your book club.

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[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Cherries

Jiraiya x Reader. MDNI 18+ only. Ao3

You’re a waitress at a gambling club, and a fan of Jiraiya’s book, when he comes into your club you can’t help yourself from going home with him.

This was kind of inspired by the song Cherries by Annie Kemble, a good friend of mine. It’s a great song, give it a listen even if you don’t wanna read this fic. But I hope y’all do both. Love y’all as always <3 Doodle

Content notes: SMUT, smoking, drinking, pussy eating, uncut dick (b/c why would anyone in the Naruto universe be circumcised?), jiraiya is his own warning tbh.

The sound of shouting players, and the smell of smoke was second nature to you now. You had been working in the parlor for two years, serving drinks, selling and lighting cigarettes, loading pipes and blowing on dice. You were frequently propositioned by customers for more salacious services, many offered money. Sometimes you would take it, if you were feeling comfortable enough, or the price was enough to tempt you, they never asked too much of you. Usually short encounters, over before the sun rose again. You had no problem making money this way, and why should you? You were working, you were talented in this regard, they had a good time and paid you well. As long as you kept yourself safe from harm, you rarely even got nervous anymore.

Tonight had been on the slower side, the middle of the week wasn’t often popular for gambling. You hadn’t been tipped that well, two different tables had stiffed you completely. You didn’t think you would be walking home pleased with your purse tonight. Breaking from the foggy main room, you slipped into the private bathroom reserved only for employees. Your makeup was immaculate still, but you applied another layer of ruby colored lipstick, patting it lightly with your finger before cleaning up the edges. You mussed your hair slightly in an attempt to give it more volume, before giving yourself one last look and smiling. You were beautiful, you were so grateful to know it and feel it.

While you were in the bathroom, Jiraya entered the parlor. His boisterous laugh gathered the attention of everyone, his hulking figure shook the table as he sat down at one of the games. The energy around him was light and fun, people of course recognized him and were excited to buy a man of such legend drinks, or play against him. Of course he wasn’t a great gambler, Jiraya was primarily here to get drunk and to flirt, shaking off another long day of training and mentorship. His eyes rose from the game table just in time to catch the most beautiful woman he had ever seen exiting from the back of the parlor. Well done up, makeup clean and vibrant, showing elegance with a clear personality that he would love to discover. Styled hair, pulled away from her working face, but falling perfectly where it could to give the appearance of casual effort. He was shaken by the man sitting next to him, and brought back to the game. Barely paying any attention, he offered a raised bet, and lost near instantly. He didn’t care, he took the last of his drink and shot it back, standing from the table and moving through the crowd over to where you were reloading your tray with drinks.

“Hello, gorgeous.” The alcohol had reddened his cheeks and lowered his already rock bottom inhibitions.

You gave him a practiced smile and began to lift the probably overloaded tray, “hello sir, is there something you might need from me?”

“I’ve got a couple ideas, but I’ll save them until you’ve dropped that tray off.” He took a seat on the available bar stool next to the drink well, “don’t worry about me, honey, I’ll still be here when you get back.”

You giggled flirtatiously, ever the professional, before passing him to deliver the bottles of sake and beer to your patrons. You swished your hips as you walked, knowing he was staring at you. You didn’t mind, he was a bit older than your usual type but you knew his reputation.

Master Jiraya of the legendary Sanin, you had even read one of his books. A girlfriend had recommended it to you, starting a scandalous book club you briefly belonged to. You were sure his writing was generous, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to find out for yourself. He was tall, and handsome, and fucking big. Everything about him was big: his body, his presence, his voice, his reputation. You wondered if everything else was just as big.

Clearing your tray, you turned back to the bar, he was still watching you. You assumed he had been the whole time. His dark brown eyes crinkled up at the sides following the line of a wide grin. The red markings down his cheeks bent and blending into his blushing alcohol fevered cheeks. You stood to his side, sliding in between stools and leaning your body against the counter. Flirting was part of your job, keeping the patrons entertained and engaged was just as much your work as serving drinks. Sure this may have had some selfish motives, but no one could say you weren’t working too.

“So….I have to confess something,” you flicked your eyes up at him, through your thick made up lashes.

“Oh sweetheart, I would love to hear a confession from you. Need me to offer you forgiveness?” He was becoming brazen, moving his large hand to your waist, which you leaned into.

“I’ve actually read a few of your books.” You moved your hand over the arm that he leaned on the bartop.

He watched you trail your finger over his forearm. He was flattered by your admission. His mouth was starting to water.

“Well, it’s always nice to meet a fan. Especially one as beautiful as you.” He watched you blush at his words, “do you have a copy? I’d love to sign it for you. Is it back in your bedroom?”

He started to stand up, but your hand was sturdy on his shoulder, pressing him back down onto the stool.

“Not so fast.” You smiled, your fingernails toying playfully with the hem of his sleeve, “I’m excited to meet you, Master Jiraya. And I’d be happy to continue spending time with you tonight. But you see, I’m still working. And I’m not finished here for another hour.”

You closed the distance between the two of you, fingers moving his long white hair over his shoulder and leaning in to brush your lips against his ear. He smelled like jasmine and pipe smoke, something else lingered as an undernote, something earthy and organic.

“I’d love for you to sign my book. I don’t live far, but you’ll have to wait until my shift is up. Think you can do that for me?” You pulled back, batting your eyelashes and pouting your lips, fingers still tangled in his hair and clothes.

His eyes were glassy but locked onto you, his heart pounding in his chest, if you looked hard enough you were sure you could see his pulse in his neck. He nodded and you nodded back, an agreement made and a promise to be kept.

“Can I top off your drink?” you offered, reaching across the bar top and not so subtly arching your back and grabbing a fresh sake bottle.

“Only if you share it with me,” his eyes licked over your body.

He couldn’t believe his luck. The most beautiful girl in the whole place not only was talking to him but knew his work, and seemed to be interested. You pulled an extra cup and filled both glasses, offering one to him. He accepted graciously, still struck by the ease of the whole situation.

“To your work.” You offered

“To your work.” He offered, tapping his glass against yours before drinking together.

You two shared the bottle over the next half hour. You would occasionally need to seperate yourself and assist your coworkers, who were also engaging in the night's entertainment and service. You didn’t have any more tables to yourself, so you were mostly running drinks and offering support. Everytime you left his side, Jiraya always waited patiently for you to come back to him.

“So what keeps you working here?” He asked upon one of your returns.

“I like it. The money's good, the hours are better,” you nudged his arm, “the people are interesting.”

“Are they?” He asked, catching your hand in his and running his thumb across the back of your knuckles.

His touch was hot against your skin, leaving little prickles of electricity in its wake. You weren’t sure when exactly it had happened, but you found yourself becoming more and more excited by the idea of spending the night with him. He was forward but had remained respectful, keeping his hands relegated to your arms and back, but never on your legs or hips. The conversation flowed naturally, he was actually very funny, giving plenty of chances for you to swoon at his wide smile. His good looks were filtered by age but he was still an incredibly handsome man, his strong nose leading up to his dark eyes, big lips growing wetter and looking softer at every passing shot.

“Yeah,” you answered, flipping his own hand over to run your index finger over the inside of his palm, tracing the lines, “although they aren’t usually so handsome. Or accomplished.you wouldn’t believe the amount of stories I’ve sat through about farming or markets.”

“You know, gorgeous, if I didn’t know any better. I’d start to worry you were playing me a bit. Are my stories boring you?” He watched your finger trace over his palm, and he watched when it stopped.

Your slender finger ceased its cartography of jiraiya's large palm, moving his hand over so it faced down. You slotted your fingers in between his. You let them linger for a moment, joined together, before bringing his knuckles up to your lips and kissing lightly. Your lipstick transferred lightly, leaving a red kiss mark across the ridge of two of his fingers. You met his gaze as you pulled away, his bottom lip was caught in between his teeth as he watched you.

“Not at all, Master Jiraiya. I feel quite fortunate to be talking to you tonight.” You set his hand back down on the table, but kept your hand tucked into his.

His voice shook slightly as he asked, “how much longer is your shift?”

Your eyes flicked over to the clock on one wall, “twelve more minutes. Think you can wait here while I wrap up?”

He nodded and breathed out, releasing himself from the previous moment of tension. He leaned back slightly as you stood up and walked to the back to settle your cash for the night and close out your final tabs. Besides Jiraya it had been a slow night for you, but despite the lower than expected take home pay, you felt giddy as you collected your final tabs and closed out with your bartender and manager. Before finishing up, you swung by the bar one last time. This time opting to not sit beside Jiraiya, but lean behind him, pressing your chest into his back and talking directly in his ear.

“You actually still have to settle your tab.” You reminded him, circling a lock of his hair around your finger.

“Ah, right.” He got the bartender's attention and closed his tab, leaving a hefty tip, “should I tip you as well? Or does that come later?”

He turned to face you, suddenly his ever confident aura had dimmed slightly, as though he had grown nervous.

“You're signing my book, that’s a great tip, especially after I sell it as a collector’s item for having a genuine signature!” You teased, laughing.

He laughed along with you before standing. You realized he towered over you, he was well above six feet, probably by another half. He looked down at you, your features enticing him in further and further. His mind raced, thinking of your eyes fluttering at him, how soft your lips felt against his hand, the smell of Cherry that followed you every time you walked past him.

“Why don’t you head outside, I’ll meet you out front after I grab my bag from the back.” You told him.

Just one more hurdle until you could finally have each other. The tension continued to build and build until you knew it would eventually compound in on itself. Hopefully in your bed, and hopefully again and again until the sun comes up.

“I’ll be waiting.” He said, and lifted your own hand to his lips this time. Offering a more dramatic, showman’s kiss before loudly smacking his lips off.

You hurried to the back to hang up your apron, grab your coat and bag, and say goodbye to your coworkers. You slipped out the back and walked around to the front of the building.

Jiraya waited patiently, but nervous. This wouldn’t be the first time he had been duped by a beautiful woman’s promise of a “good time”. When you finally emerged from the side of the building, his face lit up, shoulders relaxing as he took you in.

“I hope you didn’t think I was going to leave you out here.” You read his mind.

“Of course not, just enjoying the night air. It’s good to clear the mind.” He looked down at you, you had walked straight up to him, nearly chest to chest.

The two of you stood for a moment, then two. Breath syncing up, heart rate too. In the moonlight your features look softer, eyes sparkling up at him. Jiraya fought the urge to hold your cheeks and press your lips together, you were still outside of your place of work and he didn’t want to embarrass you.

“This way,” you finally took his hand and led him down the street.

Your conversations from inside the bar continued as you walked home with Jiraiya following you closely. Your walk home wasn’t far, only a few blocks, and he was right about the night air. You had only had a few glasses to drink, but the soft summer wind was already helping you feel more alert and awake. When you finally entered the grouping of apartments where you lived, you led him to your door.

“I wasn’t expecting company, so you’ll have to excuse the mess.” You said, you had actually just cleaned the previous day, but it couldn’t help to under promise and overdeliver.

Jiraiya couldn’t care less where you lived, or how, he was just so excited to be in the home of an incredible young woman who had invited him in. You opened the door, moonlight illuminating the dark living room. With him following closely, you moved to turn on a few lamps, brightening the space. Your place was nearly immaculate, not devoid of personality, but neat. You had drapery hung over your windows and around your light fixtures allowing the light to take on different hues. Purples, blues, and golds filled the space, casting patterned shadows over the walls.

“Wow, kid. Nice place. You do all this yourself?”, Jiraiya let out a low whistle, impressed with your home making skills already.

“Mhm,” you nodded, setting your bag down on your dining table.

You moved to undo the buttons of your coat, when you felt his hands slip around you from behind, his chest was right up against your back, his head stooped down to speak in your ear.

“Please, allow me.”, his fingers were quick to undo your buttons, moving smoothly up your lapels and sliding the jacket off of your shoulders, leaving them bare and chilled with excitement.

His smell of jasmine filled your space, you felt intoxicated with him already. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, then the juncture of your jaw and neck, then the side of your throat. You bit back a moan along with the urge to lean your head back against his chest.

“Are you trying to get out of signing my book?” You teased as his hand began to circle your waist.

He laughed, it shocked you a bit. The usually booming laugh, subdued and hot against your ear. He knew just how to play you. You turned to face him, stepping back slightly, not so subtly trying to regain your footing.

“Of course not,” Jiraiya smiled down at you, his large hands still in your waist, “you keep it next to your bed?”

You pushed his chest slightly, “you wish.”

You pulled out of his grasp and moved to a low bookshelf in your modest seating area, you had to bend over to retrieve it. You heard him suck in some air as you did so. Finally pulling the bound text from your shelf, you stood again and faced him. A blush crept up your face, you realized you had dogeared a few pages, which reminded you that you had actually made notes in a few margins. Maybe you liked this book a bit more than you let on. He noticed too, taking the book from you and opening to the first page.

“You have a pen?” He moved to sit cross legged on your floor over the coffee table.

You grabbed a writing utensil from your desk drawer and offered it to him, loving to sit next to him.

“Ah ah,” he tutted, hiding the book, “no peeking.”

You rolled your eyes and sat across from him instead. You watched him carefully as he thought of what to write, and with a devilish glint in his eye, started scribbling his autograph. He was taking longer than should be necessary for his name.

“You’re not writing something dirty in there, are you?” You tease, sliding your foot under the table to nudge his crossed leg..

“I already did, that’s why you like it so much.” He flirted back instantly, not even slightly shaken by your contact. He was clearly in his element.

Finally when he had finished his escription, he read over his own words. Giggling to himself, he brought the book up and mimed a kiss against the page, before blowing on it softly, to dry the ink.

“There you go, gorgeous. One of a kind.” He closed the book and set it on the table with his hand still over it, inviting you to try to take it from him.

You took the bait and reached over, he slid it just out of reach, “Almost.”

You got the game. Sliding around the table, you now were next to him, your hand fit next to his, fingers intertwining on the bound leather. You moved your body up his, with him seated and you on your knees, you were finally eye to eye with him. He watched you closely, pupils blown in excitement. You moved to sit on his lap, finally in a full embrace. He was so wide, it was hard to fully straddle him, but you managed. You could feel him getting hard underneath you, too many layers separated you from him. You could feel how wet you had gotten from the back and forth of tonight. You wanted him so bad. His large, delicious body, his experience, his charisma. It had all drawn you in. His hands moved from the table, abandoning the book and over slid your hips, then up your back and down again. The sensation was soothing and also titillating.

You felt yourself dampen further, and your breath increase. You moved your arms around his neck, leaning closer and closer, you could feel the tie that held his long hair back and you pulled until it came loose, allowing his white hair to fall freely. Your lips were so close to his, you could smell sake on his breath, you could feel his heart beating under you.

“Jiraiya?”, your lips were nearly against his as you spoke his name.

“Yes, gorgeous?”, His big hands squeezed your hips, keeping your firm against his clothed erection.

“Are you going to kiss me? Or are you going to make me beg you for it.” You looked at him under your lashes, catching his eye just in time to see him shudder a bit.

“All you had to do was ask.” He caught your lips in his, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him.

His lips were so soft, but his kiss was so hard and passionate. His tongue immediately slipped between your lips, quickly mapping the inside of your mouth. He had the faintest taste of smoke, probably a pipe or cigarette from earlier in the night. His hands moved through his hair, tugging lightly, making him moan against your mouth.

“Such a pretty girl,” he mumbled between hot, wet kisses, “you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

Feeling emboldened by his praise, you moved one hand between your joined hips to stroke his hardened dick, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

His hips bucked at your touch, a half moan-half laugh sputtering from his lips. He cursed and pulled at the back of your shirt, removing it quickly. His hands were rough against your skin, decades of both training and writing causing his palms and fingers to callus. Your skin was so soft by juxtaposition, smooth and even, plump and vibrant. He removed your bra skillfully, your breasts spilling out for him to quickly latch his mouth onto.

You moaned, throwing your head back, “Master Jiraiya!”

He could barely hear you, he was completely immersed in how good it felt to have your bare chest in front of him, against his lips, against his tongue. He flicked his skilled tongue over your nipple, pulling back to watch it harden and peak.

“You’ve got such great tits, baby. Such a pretty thing for me.” He kissed up the side of your neck.

You were rocking your hips against his, trying desperately to pull more of those shocked moans from him in the process. Your hands moved under his tunic, unknotting the tie and pulling the sides apart. His chest was so broad, a large star shaped scar bloomed from the center outward. You had hooked up with shinobi before, you were familiar with the combat scars and various bruises to be found on their bodies. But this was unlike anything you had ever seen. It was expansive, and evidently distracting, as you had stopped your grinding to gawk at the large healed wound.

“Thought girls liked scars.” He joked.

You ran your hand down his chest, fingers exploring the topography of muscle and scar tissue.

“I do.” You leaned down to kiss the side of his neck, hand traveling further down to his hip bone and further to undo the tie of his pants.

“You work fast, honey.” He bit his lip trying to cover the moan your eager touch pulled from him.

You moved off his lap, now pulling his trousers along with you as you moved down his body, “worried you can’t keep up, old man?”

This struck something in him. Something competitive and cocky. Before you realized it he had you up on the couch, and he was kneeling between your legs.

“I hope you don’t mind if this old man takes a turn first?” He growled holding your hips in place as you tried to figure out just how he had moved you so quickly.

His hands pulled at the top of your skirt, undoing the zipper on the side and sliding it down your legs.

“It only feels fair after I so graciously gave you my autograph free of charge.” He removed your skirt completely, leaving you only in your red panties.

You were so wet already, the panties were sticking to you. You wanted them off so bad, you wanted him so bad. His hands ran up your thighs, Jiraiya delighting in the hot, smooth skin of a young woman writing under his touch. You were so gorgeous, a beautiful body, a beautiful face, charming and intelligent. He had no idea how he had gotten so lucky. You were looking at him so desperately, he could see how badly you wanted him. And if he wasn’t sure from your eyes and your words, you were practically dripping onto your own couch in front of him. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had to taste you for himself. Jiraiya leaned forward and took the front of your panties between his teeth, pulling them down, using his hands to roll the flimsy fabric off of your legs. A practiced move he had perfected over years, but never failed him.

Watching him remove your panties with his teeth had you moaning before he ever touched your aching pussy. He watched you gasp in awe and arch your back, body begging him to pleasure you. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He slid your panties in his back pocket for later. He knew he was a pervert, but he couldn’t help himself.

Finally, with nothing separating him from your sex, Jiraiya moved your legs over his shoulder and pressed forward, giving you a long, languid lick all the way up your slit.

His tongue was devilish; skilled and wicked. Strong hands keeping your thighs in place as he devoured you. You couldn’t stop the wanton moans that spilled from you like a waterfall, he had barely started and you were already whimpering and pulling at his hair.

“Baby you taste so good, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. How many do you think you can take?” You could barely hear him through the sound of him lapping at your dripping pussy.

He was talking about his fingers, thick and waiting to push inside of you. They were bigger than yours, bigger than anyone’s you had been with, and fuck you wanted them inside of you.

“Two. Two. Fuck, Jiraiya, please.” You begged him, needing more and more from him despite how good you already felt.

He pushed his first two fingers inside of you, tongue still slurping around your clit. Feeling him spread you open, you felt the white hot build up of orgasm approaching. Your voice was giving you away, panting moans, barely intelligible curses mixed with his name. You tugged at his hair, paying no kind to if it hurt him or not. He certainly wasn’t stopping, nor was he complaining. He was too drunk off of your taste. He hooked his fingers inside of you, deliciously hitting your g spot.

You nearly went blind with pleasure. You were cumming before you even realized how close it was. Not only cumming, but squirting. Gushing around his fingers and into his waiting mouth. He drank from you, everything you had. Leaving you a well pleasured, panting mess above him. The heels of your feet had dug into his shoulders so hard he may bruise. But tomorrow if he woke up with any mark of you left on him, he would be a happy man. Finally detaching his mouth from your puffy, spent pussy, Jiraiya sat back on his heels, watching you carefully, licking his fingers clean.

“Ever done that before?” He grinned cockily, your squirt still dripping down his chin onto his neck.

You watched him take great pride in cleaning his fingers of your cum, “once or twice.” You told him.

“Think I can make you do it again?” He leaned over you, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you forward, against the front of his barely done pants.

You shuddered at the thought. You had read his books, you were familiar with his proclivity toward having the heroines orgasm again and again, until they were begging for mercy. You had always assumed it was fiction, and that couldn’t, shouldn’t reflect on the desires and skills of the author. But the way he watched you as you came undone for him, the way he looked down at you now, you knew it was autobiographical.

He wiped a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead, tucking it behind your ear before leaning down to kiss you again. This kiss was softer than before, he cupped your face sweetly, not tugging and pulling you into him, but holding you firm and steady against his lips. You kissed him back, finally feeling grounded in your body again. He tasted like you, you were sure you tasted like him too. The experience of letting someone’s taste overpower your own was at times more sensual and pleasurable than the act of sex itself.

Your hands moved over his back, feeling the strong muscle, the divots and grooves of his body. Your eager hands moved to remove his pants, and he joined the effort, stripping himself completely before you. He joined you on the couch, kneeling between your legs, still kissing you. You felt his hardened length hot against you, sliding up and down your slit, he reveled in the fruits of his previous labor.

“Please Jiraiya, please.” You whimpered against his kisses, reaching down to stroke him.

He was diamond hard in your hand, long, and thick. Of course he was, of course this literary Casanova had the personal equipment to back it up. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing through his erection. You ran your thumb beneath his foreskin to pull the precum from him and coat your hand to lubricate his length. Jiraiya shuddered and lifted you back onto the couch again, joining you and slotting himself between your legs. Your lips were hot against his, spit and moans exchanged in between sloppy kisses. His thick, white hair shielded you from the light in the room, blocking out everything else but him. He reached down to join your hand on his length, his eyes meeting yours to confirm consent. You nodded again, rocking your hips against the head of his cock. You moved your hands to his shoulders. Jiraiya’s thumbs spread your folds apart for him to release a string of spit onto you. Spreading the lubrication of his spit and your previous release along his length and your slitc he started to inch himself into you.

You couldn’t help the arch that your back curved into. Nor could you stop the mewl that escaped you. Jiraiya groans above you, pushing deeper. Your vision went white as he packed his inches into you. You clawed at his muscles, whimpering as he filled you.

“I know, baby. Almost there.”, he cooed, smoothing your hair.

You squirmed at his depth, how he stretched you out, how he mashed against the wall of your cervix.

“Relax, baby. Let me in, it’s okay.” He kissed your cheeks where you had scrunched up your face.

You breathed deeply, trying desperately to relax your tensed muscles. Just as you would release slightly, he would push further and you would clench around him again. Finally after much stopping and starting, he bottomed out inside of you. His hips meeting the backs of your legs, your calves over his shoulders, and your fingers gripping his shoulders.

“Jiraiya…fuck…you’re so deep.” You trembled against him.

Jiraiya panted above you, running his hand up your leg soothingly. You were holding him so tight, he was struggling to keep from fucking into you further.

“Let me know when I can move, sweetness.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the ball of your ankle, petting your leg again.

After finally accommodating his size, you nodded. He pulled back carefully to the head of his cock before sliding into you again. He began an even thrusting pace, he rocked his hips against your sweet spot inside of you. You couldn’t help the broken, nasty sounds that fell from your lips. He was setting your body ablaze with pleasure. His head fell back as he maintained his rhythm, letting out a lazy, delicious moan. You felt electric, like all the energy in your body had illuminated and was glowing. His hands traveled from your thighs to your hips to your breasts and back again. You felt as though he was unstitching your every piece, taking you apart at the atomic level. And it was marvelous, his touch was practiced and methodical, he knew just how to touch and to please you. You couldn’t control the begging pleas that spilled from you.

“Raiya, please, yes, fuck, oh” in repetition again and again.

He was similarly babbling, “yes baby, so tight, so good, good girl.”

Your sweat transferred to his skin, and vice versa, when he finally leaned over you, closing you in against the couch, you couldn’t help but keen to kiss him again. His big, strong hand pulled your hip up to meet his thrusts, and you helped him, fucking yourself up into him. Your bodies worked in perfect sync, meeting his thrusts, him moving his fingers in between your bodies to circle your swollen clit. Your voice raised in pitch, eyes rolling back as he played you like a fiddle. You had no idea earlier in the night how incredible he would be.

You felt yourself inching so close to climaxing, and you made it clear.

“Please Jiraiya, please!” You begged

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He smiled, pushing deeper into you, making you arch further.

“Yes! Fuck yes please. Let me cum!”

“Cum all over this cock. Make a mess for me, baby.” He choked out, circling your clit and sucking into your neck.

He pushed harder into you, the combination of his cock and fingers finally bringing you to your desperate, whimpering, squirting climax. You coated his cock and abdomen in your cum, he shuddered against you trying to keep his pace as he reached his own orgasm.

“Fuck!” Jiraiya cried out slamming himself against your g spot, finally letting his release take him.

You could feel his cock pulse, shooting his long streams of cum inside of you, painting your walls white. Jiraiya collapsed his full weight onto you, which was not insignificant, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You stroked his fluffy, white hair as he caught his breath atop you. He pressed lazy, hot kisses to your neck, collarbone and chest as he caught his breath. Minutes passed with you two locked into this embrace. Finally the weight of his body was too much, and you tapped on his shoulder, urging him to sit up. He did, pulling you up with him, having you straddle his lap so he could stay sheathed inside of you. He stroked your back, still kissing your neck occasionally. You slumped against his broad chest, feeling spent, he let his head rest against the back of your couch. When he had finally caught his breath, he tipped his head back down, holding your face in his hands, and kissed you deeply. His tongue smoothed against yours, tasting your exhaustion. He moved your hair out of your face, and looked into your eyes.

You finally found your words, “I better not read about this.”

“If you think I’m not using this as research, I hate to disappoint you…” Jiraiya laughed heartily, holding you closer.

You kissed him again, laughing against his lips. You luxuriated in his touch, his warmth, and his kiss.

Sure enough, about nine months later when his most recent book was released you rushed to the local bookstore. You found there was a dedication at the beginning reading simply.

For Cherry, Page 73.

You quickly flipped to the listed page and found the beginning of a deliciously flowery sex scene, one where the protagonist picks up a waitress and spoils her the exact way Jiraiya had done to you.

You couldn’t hide the blushing smile. That bastard.

Okay y’all thanks so much for reading! I hope y’all enjoyed! I’m nasty feral for this big bad man.

[suugarbabe]

[Chapter 10]

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: panic attack, flashbacks, anxiety, torture, mentions of blood, mentions of violence

Turning around you did your best to avoid the big brown eyes that were following you around the bar at the club. You settled your elbows down on the bar top with a huff, Blaise giving you a puppy dog frown. His eyes reminded you of old brick libraries and vintage books, which was fitting since he was definitely reading you like one at the moment. You stood once more, trying to keep yourself busy and distracted with stocking tasks before the club officially opened for the night. It was your first day back at work since the incident and admittedly you were a little nervous. It wasn’t that you thought Damiano or any of his minions could get you while at the club, you fully understood that the name of the club itself worked as a protection charm against anyone who seeked harm against the family and as all of them had put it over the last several weeks, you were family.

You set the bottle in your hands down harshly, the class clinking on the bartop causing Blaise to jolt out of his trance. “Okay, B, out with it,” you plastered on your own annoyed grimace as he leaned back in his chair. “Dunno what y’mean, luv,” he took the cigarette from behind his ear, using the tip of his wand to light it before taking a deep inhale. Turning his head he blew the smoke away from you both before meeting your eyes once more, a saccharine smile on his face. You rolled your eyes, “I’m serious, B. I can’t take you looking at me like that all bloody night, w’drive me insane.” His smile dropped instantly, shoulders slumping slightly, “M’just worried bout ya Birdie.”

Groaning you leaned your elbows on the bar, “What is there to worry about? This is the second safest place for me to be besides the manor.” Blaise took another long drag, smoke billowing from his mouth as he responded, “Physical safety is not the only thing to worry about, sweetheart. What you went through could break even the strongest of witches, and I know how bloody strong you are.” You walked round the bar, pulling out the seat next to him, “I really appreciate your concern, B, but I promise, I’m fine.” He gave you a look that told you he definitely did not believe you, but he wasn’t going to argue with you. Instead, he stubbed the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him, standing up and smoothing out his blazer.

“Think you’ll be able to manage the bar by yourself tonight?” You looked at him quizzically, “Is Enzo not working tonight? Was kind of hoping he’d be here. I miss bantering with him on bar nights.” Blaise gave a shake of his head, “On business tonight, the lot of them.” You raised an eyebrow in question and Blaise let out an annoyed huff, “I know you know who I mean, but just to be clear I do mean Enzo, Theo and Mattheo.” You nodded your head in thanks with a cheeky smile. You grabbed one of the rags from behind the bar, giving the top a final cleaning before the club was set to open, “Draco left in charge then?”

“Yes, I am. So that means no mucking about,” Draco was strolling up behind Blaise, giving you a playful glare with his words. You rolled your eyes, “And what if I do? Think we all know who’d win in a duel between you and I, Malfoy.” You gave your eyebrows a teasing wiggle. “I’d tell Mattheo, let him deal with you, obviously you listen to him,” there was a double meaning in his words by the smirk adorning his face. Blaise came to your rescue though, “So you’d be a rat, then?” Draco scoffed, “I’m not a rat, Zabini.” Your mouth upturned into a devilish smirk, “Ferrets are part of the rat family, aren't they?” Draco glowered at you, “Fuck you, Birdie. That was like twelve years ago!” You shrugged your shoulders, shouting back at him as he walked towards the office, “People don’t forget!”

Blaise helped you with the final bits of set up for the bar, taking on the responsibilities Enzo usually did, grabbing the kegs and setting them up, testing the taps, flipping down the rest of the chairs, etc. He reminded you again that he was there if you needed to talk about anything and you assured him that you’d be just fine, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Patrons started to file in per usual. A few of your regulars came up to the bar first, letting you know how much they missed you. You did as Mattheo had instructed and told them you had ‘been on vacation’ and ‘yes you had such a great time’ and ‘yes the south of France is so lovely’.

Surprisingly you were managing the bar alone pretty well. You weren’t sure if the regulars just missed you, or if you were just really getting into the work today as a means of a distraction. You may not have been completely honest with Blaise earlier. Yes, you were fine, relatively, but thoughts still creeped into your mind, still tried to sneak into your memory. Ever since Theo got hurt, you were pretty good at pushing all the bad aside. His getting injured really put into perspective how needed you were, how important you were to the family. Draco is a good healer, Narcissa taught him well. He was able to heal all of your wounds with minimal to no scarring, except for the one.

Your fingers traced the slightly raised skin just below your hip, your brain going back to what Draco had whispered to Mattheo after assessing the damage done to you when you were captured. “There’s no healing I can do to take that away from her”. You wished you could erase it, just obliviate it all without risk of losing everything. But you knew it wasn’t possible, you knew you had to be strong, had to push through it. And you were doing so, quite successfully if anyone had thought to ask you. You weren’t sure if the others would be proud or scared of how easily you could keep yourself distracted by mindless tasks and work behind the bar. Hell, you were even doing bar service, bringing drinks and bottles to different tables. If the boys could see you now.

The night was essentially moving flawlessly. The closer you got to closing, the more excited you got to tell Mattheo how well you did your first night back. You knew he was worried, they all were, but you were doing just fine. And that’s what you kept telling yourself. That you were just fine. That everything was going to be fine. And then you started to hear it. At first it was just like everything else in the background, something that was sort of going in one ear and out the other. But the rhythm caught your attention. The more you recognized it the more you felt your chest start to tighten. Each time you breathed out it seemed like you were getting less in with your next breath, like a python was wrapped around your chest and squeezing you.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, sweat beading along your neck and down your back. Your peripheral started to become blurry. Each flash of light from the stages had glimpses of Pansy dancing in front of you at the club in London. Your heart rate seemed like it was increasing quickly, each pump and rhythm like it was trying to beat right through your ribcage. You did your best to smile through it, to ignore every raging signal your body was giving you to walk away, find someplace quiet to calm down, to force yourself to forget. You were almost to the table anyway, one of the club’s most expensive bottles in your hand when the lights began flashing on the stage again, and then they flashed red.

Everything was moving so slowly but so quickly at the same time. You didn’t even notice the bottle slip from your grip until you heard the glass shatter on the ground. Mindless babbles and apologies were all fell from your mouth as you bent down to start picking up the pieces, not even realizing you were kneeling in the shards. You nearly jumped out of your skin when a pair of hands enveloped your shoulders. “Shh, luv, s’just me. It’s Blaise, c’mon. Come with me.” His hands gently but quickly lifted you under your arms, leading you towards the back hall and into the office. He led you to one of the bigger chairs, leaning down in front of you.

Your eyes darted around the room, internally knowing there was no real danger around you but not being able to slow your mind down enough to actually convince it that you were safe. Blaise locked his hands on either side of your face, forcing your eyes to meet his, “Birdie, look at me, luv, eyes on me. I’m gonna place my hand on your chest okay?” You nodded, eyes never leaving his. Blaise took one of your hands, placing it on his own chest in a similar manner. Blaise took a deep breath, a massive opposition to your short and shallow ones. “Just like me, Birdie, you can do it.” He took another long breath. You could feel the movement of his chest. The slow rise and fall, the fullness when he took a breath that fully filled his lungs and the small concave when he let it all the way out.

In a short while your breathing started to mimic Blaise’s. “I’m so sorry, B, I just…I don’t know what happened.” He shook his head, “Sweetheart, no. No, no, no, no, s’not your fault. Talk to me, tell me what happened. What’s going on in that brain of yours, hmm?” You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your hands. Blaise ducked down, forcing your eyes to meet his. A small frown formed on your lips, pulling at his heartstrings. “Once you get it out it’ll hold less power over you.” Your eyes shot to the ceiling, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. You let out another shaky breath before trying your best to explain the knots in your brain.

“I r-really thought it’d be fine. I just, when that song came on it was like…it was like I was there all over again. Flashbacks blurring my vision until I couldn’t focus and then I couldn’t breathe and I dropped the bottle and…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, B, I’m-”

Blaise immediately pulled you into a hug, you reciprocating and holding on to him tightly, not able to control the tears that started to fall. “Shh. It’s okay, Birdie. It’s okay. They’re gonna find him. You’re safe now. He can’t sneak in here or the manor and that’s the only two places you’re gonna be until he’s dead.” He held you until you calmed again, asking if you wanted to go home, promising he could find someone else to finish your shift.

You shook your head, telling him you wanted needed to finish it. If anything for your own pride. Blaise used his wand to clean the shards from your knees, you brain having blocked out the wound until it started to be worked on. With a simple wave of his wand the glass and wounds were gone, as was the physical pain. Afterwards, he went back to his booth, striking the song from all playlists and casting a spell to ban it from the establishment.

After the shift Blaise apparated with you back to the manor. You had assured him you were fine by then but he insisted you go together, even waiting at the bar while you finished cleaning the glasses. In the foyer, Blaise checked on you one last time. “I’m fine, B. Really. Thank you for…everything. Do you think we could, ya know, not tell Teo about it?” Blaise looked at you with a sorry excuse for a smile. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that meant.

“Birdie. My office. Now.” Mattheo’s voice seemed to reverberate off the marble floors. You glared at Blaise as you turned towards Mattheo. Not satisfied with your pace Mattheo’s voice boomed again, “Faster.” You moved quicker, Mattheo grabbing hold of your wrist and all but dragging you into his office until your arse hit the edge of his desk. As soon as the door to his office closed he turned to you. Walking up both hands cupped your face, brows furrowing, “I knew it was too soon.”

You shook your head, “No, no it wasn’t it was just-just an accident. I’ll be fine for another shift. I promise. Please don’t take it away from me, Matty. I need the distraction.” Mattheo frowned, thumb rubbing gently over the apple of your cheek, “You’re so strong, Princess. But don’t push yourself too far. It’s okay if you’re not like the rest of us. It’s okay that you still…feel things sometimes.” Using your fingertips you swiped the tears brimming your waterline. “M’fine. Really, Teo. But it’s sweet of you to check on me.”

Mattheo leaned in closer, his lips catching yours in a gentle kiss. His lips seemed to convey what he lacked in words, how much he truly loved and cared for you, how much he wanted to protect you. As he pulled away his thumb traced your bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it fall back into place. He placed his hands on either side of your face once more, “I have something to tell you, Princess, but…you’ve got to promise me you’ll stay calm.” You looked into his eyes, the usual onyx color lightened to a deep brown displaying how worried he was to tell you what was on his mind.

You grasped both of his wrists, thumb rubbing the inside at his pulse point. “You can tell me anything, Teo. You know that. Staying calm, I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure what you’d have to tell me that I would freak out about. Not unless you have Damiano locked under the house or something.” You punctuated the end of your statement with a half hearted laugh but the look on Mattheo’s face had it quickly dying on your lips. You felt your face drop, not even attempting to hide the reaction from him as you started speaking quickly, “Matty is he here? Is he here in the manor right now? I need to see him. Let me see him Teo, is he with Enzo? He’ll kill him, you promised not to kill him until I got to see him! Bring me down there, wherever he is, bring me down there right. Now!”

Mattheo grasped each arm tightly, gritting his teeth, “Birdie, you need to calm down. I won’t take you until you’re calm.” Your gaze never left his as you did your best to steady your breathing. Once Mattheo deemed it even and steady he slid his hands down your arms until his fingers locked with yours. “Enzo is with him now with strict instructions not to kill and Theo is there to make sure Enz doesn’t get carried away.” You nodded, assuring Mattheo you were calm and you were ready. In a whirl he apparated the two of you to a space you had never seen before.

You were still at the manor. You’d lived there long enough you could sense when you’d left the grounds and when you hadn’t. The room you were taken to was large, like a hidden room at the end of an underground tunnel or something. The room was made of brick, of which looked centuries old. There were dark colored stains that painted many parts of the room; walls, floors and ceiling. Each wall had a series of different chains and cuffs attached to them, what appeared like rust on nearly all of them.

To the average person it would all seem alarming, but you knew this is probably where Enzo did his best work. Your assumption is proved correct by the scene in the center of the room. Enzo essentially stopped whatever pain he was inflicting at the sound of your arrival, turning to the two of you and seemingly having a silent argument with Mattheo. His movement allowed you to get a full view of the center of the room. In a strong metal chair that was bolted to the ground sat Damiano, or at least you knew that’s who it was.

His face was nearly unrecognizable, one eye swollen shut and black. There were too many nicks and cuts on his face to count, each either red or bleeding. You assumed the shirt he arrived in was originally white but the top half was all scarlet. His ankles were chained to the chair, each wrist chained to the floor. There was little slack, but enough that the chains rattled when his head finally lifted and his good eye locked with yours. You walked closer to him, until you stood right in front of him. Before you even realized what was happening you reared your fist back before launching it forward, the crack of his already broken nose breaking more like music to your ears.

Before you could do it again a pair of arms were wrapped around you, pulling you back a few feet before setting you down. Setting you down was a mistake. In a flash your wand was in your hand, the word leaving your mouth with zero remorse, “Crucio.” Damiano’s head reared back, mouth agape as a blood curdling screech left his throat. The veins in his neck looked like they were near bursting, his arms contorting and straining against the chains on the floor. You broke the spell, the red light disappearing back into the tip of your wand.

Damiano lifted his head once more, making eye contact with you as he spoke, blood falling from lips with each word, “I’ve been wondering when you’d show up, Sunshine.” He licked his lips, the mix of saliva and blood shining against the muscle, “Glad to see our little rendezvous didn’t diminish that fire inside yo-”

“Sectumsempra,” through gritted teeth you landed another spell, lashes and cuts scattering his body. With another flick of your wrist the majority of the cuts were healed. Damiano gasped for breath, the three family members standing behind you all wore matching confused expressions before they heard you speak the curse again, blood flowing heavily from Damiano’s body before you healed the majority of them once more. Theo leaned closer to the two boys next to him, “What is she doing, why is she healing him after inflicting wounds.” Mattheo shook his head, but Enzo knew the answer. “She’s prolonging the torture.”

It was Enzo who eventually pulled you back, handing you over to Theo who held a hand to the back of your neck as you watched Enzo and Mattheo. You watched them continue Damiano’s torture. Watched him continue to bleed. Watched his body slump lower with each spell, each punch. Watched his head roll and muscles twitch and strain as he was hit with the cruciatus curse again, and again. When it seemed like he was finally spent you knew there was only one thing left to do.

“You started something you couldn’t finish, but now it’s finally over. I hope you enjoyed tonight, Damiano. Because it’s going to be your last. You watched as Mattheo took a few steps back, raising his wand and pointing it straight towards Damiano’s chest. Walking up you wrapped your hand around Mattheo’s forearm. His head turned, locking eyes with you, eyebrows raising. The look in your eyes seemed to convey everything you needed, Mattheo nodding. He lowered his wand, stepping back.

In his place is where you stood, hand now gripping your wand tighter than you ever had before. Raising your arm you position mirrored Mattheo’s earlier one, though for everyone in the room the view seemed to hold more intensity. Damiano’s head lulled, seemingly not having the ability to hold it up any longer. The hand that didn’t hold your wand lifted two fingers into the air, Damiano’s head mirroring the action, his swollen and bloodied face now facing yours. You took a deep breath, relishing in the moment you had waited for for the last year, the moment you had dreamt about, had yearned for whenever thinking about your past and what you endured. You spoke steady, and slowly. The calmness in your tone eliciting a chill up even Enzo’s spine.

“Avada Kedavra.”

[writingoddess1125]

First of all I wanna say I hope both sides of ur pillow are cold at night, your charger works at every angle and you never stub your toe 🛐🛐🛐💞💌💌🥺🥺 Idk if you take requests, apologies of you don't, but I would like to ask if you would make one of those NSFW Alphabets with Shanks? Thank you for getting me through this week with your fics 🙏🏻 I have become a Mihawk girlie now too because of your work 😩

I'm so glad you you love the fics!! And thank you for the kindness towards me you are truly a Saint to wish for my pillow to be cold 🙏

Welcome to the Mihawk club BTW ;3

But I Gotcha Darling!

N$FW Alphabet:

Shanks Edition!

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Very loving, he is kind and has a strong sense of responsibility for his S/O. He will clean them up, get them anything they need and cuddles too.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Truthfully he loves his hair, it's a odd relationship since its such a unique feature of his so it draws too much attention. But also loves it since it's a heavy part of his identity.

Their back weirdly enough, the curve of their form and dip of their hips. He will guide his fingertips down their back and admire it.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Shanks can be a bit messy, he will cum on the nearest surface of skin of his S/O. But his favorite is inside-

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

He and Buggy used to have a physical thing for a while. It was more experimental and gave him creative ideas for sex, however he is very transparent with his S/O about it and open to any questions.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

This man has a open book of experiences, having done and seen a lot of things in his day! He knows every way to make someone squirm moan and more.

F= Favorite position

The Face-Off is his favorite position. Seated and with his S/O on his lap facing him while they ride him.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He isn't the most serious especially with intimate moments in bed. He feels like it's a moment for him to be vulnerable and open. Will giggle with them and kiss their cheeks, drawing chuckles from his S/O

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Is a bit lazy with his own grooming habits, he will occasionally give himself a trim up but is more okay with a all natural look. Defiently has the Nickname of Fire Bush 🔥

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Shanks is very romantic, he can get rough but he is Defiently the type to differ in Sex Vs. Love Making and with his S/O it's always lovemaking.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Not as often, he used to in the past but finds he'd rather do other things. Especially since he has a S/O so it's unnecessary.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

He has two big kinks he loves. He does have a mild breeding kink, he loved the idea of 'Breeding' his so in any means and knowing it was him who did it.

His second biggest Kink a Praise Kink and he is open to switching in this role as he loves to be praised or give it.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

He likes his own place in terms of Sex or a good Hotel. He isn't one to judt fuck anywhere and even for Quickies he has his favorite spots pre-picked out.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Truthfully his S/O is his biggest turn on- them just walking around will be enough to get him worked up.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Degradation is a turn off for him, as well as amputation kinks. He finds both I credibly disturbing and will immediately not be interested.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He is a giver, while he does love some good oral he prefers to give. He likes the feeling of being inbetween his S/O's legs and feeling their reactions.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

He keeps a pretty even pace, he can be pretty quick in hip movement. However in terms of length in bed he can last quite a while.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

He does enjoy a good Quickie. However it's only if that is the only option he likes something more sensual if it's available but a has hard fuck is never a issue

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Hell yeah, he's always willing to try new things! If he hasn't done it already he will give it a go.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Shanks has fairly high Stamina and can last at 20 minute goes with at least 3 rounds in him.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Shanks down for toys, is willing to use them on his S/O or let them be used against himself.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Shanks is a walking tease, yes he loves romantic and even pacing in terms of sex but he LOVES to take his time to watch his S/O come undone. The look on their faces as they moan and desperately get closer to their climax is so hot to him.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

From grunts, gentle moans and words of Praise Shanks can be quite vocal. He likes to say sweet things to his S/O if he's on top.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

He has been pegged and did not mind it. While isn't his most favorite of things it was interesting at the time and if his S/O is interested he will be down for another round with the plastic.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Shanks is very blessed- 9.5in easy, and let's say he's more of s grower then a show-er in these parts 😉

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

While he is incredibly flirtatious he doesn't have the highest of sex drives. Defiently very relaxed and will be down if his parter is. However naturally is a twice a week kind of man.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Shanks will stay up for a bit, making sure they fall asleep and just admire his S/Os form. Run his hand through their hair and make sure they're comforble

[silviakundera]

Kinnporsche Fanfic Recs

In celebration of the 2 year anniversary, here is an avalanche of Kinn/Porsche fics that I've enjoyed. Painfully incomplete & posted in no particular order. My shipping interests are 100% focused on the K/P couple and that will be reflected in my list, sorry 😘.

Deep Like a Coastal Shelf by Lilla_Torg

(79,000 words) Green Arrow inspired AU. "After five years abroad, Kinn Theerapanyakul returns to find his city under siege by a vigilante known as the Phoenix."

Stain of Sun by Lilla_Torg

(78,000 words) Omega brothers Porsche (hacker) and Chay (grifter) team up to take down the Theerapanyakul crime family. Things do not go as planned. // This marries A/B/O with mutant powers. As long as you're not wholly opposed to Omegaverse, give it a chance. Every one of this author's long KPtS fics is a banger.

Pouring Down Crimson Fire by Lilla_Torg

(119,000 words) Sort of a mutant AU but honestly that underplays how fucking cool this fic is. “I think you know something about keeping secrets,” said Kinn. He flashed Porsche a pocket-ace smirk. “You’re mine. Say it.”

The boy he’d been fourteen years ago would have told him where to shove it. But Porsche had been around long enough to know that the mafia always won. Still, he looked around, searching for a way out, before giving up and turning back to Kinn, those black eyes awaiting his surrender.

“I’m yours,” he said.

a perpetual unscattering by concernedlily

(31,000 words) Canon-divergence AU. “Pissing in bottles behind a cocktail bar,” Kinn said. “But Pa gave him to me, so I’m stuck with him.” To a visibly furious Porsche he said, “You don’t know the minor family? Never come across any of them before?”

“How would I know the fucking minor family?” Porsche snapped.

what a tangled web we weave by fortunehasgivenup

(80,000 words) 1000 Nights inspired alternate universe, fantasy-historical Thailand. // After the betrayal of his first husband, King Anakinn Theerapanyakul vows to never love again. Once a week, he takes a new husband, a young man who will not live to see another dawn.

When a nobleman comes to find a young man to adopt and marry off to the king in place of his own son, Thee chooses Chay.

Faced with an outcome that he refuses to contemplate, Porsche steps in and takes Chay's place. He only has one request for the king - to be allowed to tell his brother one last bedtime story.

Burn Your Name Into My Skin by Everyforkedroad

(72,000 words) In which Kinn visits a high-end sex club and he & Porsche meet under the guise of anonymity for what should be a 1 night encounter. Except not only are they intensely drawn together... things are not what they seem.

Salt by ronandhermy

(49,000 words) Sweat stings because the salt is purifying. Porsche may be in high school but he is still a National Champion in Taekwondo and he catches the eye of the national team's newest sponsor: The Theerapanyakun Family. Alternate first meeting. Leans into the darkness of canon, read the tags and proceed w caution.

how do you like it, daddy by Baby_Droll

(28,000 words) "and ain't shit 'bout me cheap and ain't shit 'bout me free" - our lord and savior, florence millicent. kinn & porsche, and all the other pieces on their fucked up chess board. a sugar baby/daddy au with an omegaverse twist. // This is a dark reimagining alternate universe. Iconic toxic K/P fic.

two shots by Martynax

(81,000 words) AU, different first meeting. Porsche joined the armed forces & became a hired gun. // “So I’m supposed to end a mafia dispute?”

“Something like that,” he mutters, wondering if he’s making a mistake, revealing it to Porsche so soon. Nothing is set in stone, after all. But he has a gut feeling that the man appreciates honesty and simplicity much more than intrigue and schemes.

be the best you ever tasted by Martynax

(90,000 words) an AU where Porsche's life is shit so he shakes his perky little bum for strangers at a strip club and Kinn books him for a private show. Porsche doesn't fuck customers and shouldn't get associated with whatever grey business his boss is trying to run out of the club. But... you know how this is gonna go.

between the sheets by DasWarSchonKaputt

(70,000 words) “And who’s that?”

“Oh. That’s Porsche. He’s Khun Kinn’s live-in boytoy. He’s harmless, mostly. Just a pretty face.”

A boyfriend can go so many places a bodyguard can’t. As the threat of a potential leak in their security forces looms large, Khun Korn hatches a plot to place an added layer of protection around his heir presumptive. Enter Porsche, former bartender, current bodyguard, and reluctant fake boyfriend of Kinn Theerapanyakul.

Stumbling to the Edge by FireRisingOverTheHills

(51,000 words) Of the genre of KP fics where Kinn and Porsche meet-cute in a random bar encounter, instead of a meet-ugly, this one is my fav. I just really enjoy the Kinn PoV with his what?! is?! happening??? vibes as he finds himself irresistibly drawn to someone who doesn't fit neatly into defined roles.

"He makes this all seem like it’s perfectly normal and Kinn is helpless to do anything but go along with it."

Whatever Else that Touches You by technicallyverycowboy

(9,330 words) Tender established relationship and bisexual self discovery, post canon. // "No, it's fine." Porsche shifts to be a little less plastered against Kinn's side, straightens his shoulders and smooths out his jacket with great dignity. "The answer to your question is yes, I have really never been with any other men."  Porsche answers questions, asks some of his own, tries new things, and fills in the knowledge gaps of his own sexuality.

An Elegant Mechanism by Laughsalot3412

(87,000 words) A/B/O AU, Kim centric with some background K/P and dysfunctional brothers & cousin bonding. The only fic on this list that isn't K/P primary. //  "Kim was only an omega when he was luring people closer to his gun. No one had to give Kim a weapon. He was one.  (Kim's mission is to get close to Porchay Kittisawat. Chay is not a typical alpha. Kim is not a typical omega. Kim isn't having feelings and Chay is going to be so normal about all of this.)"

Love and Violence by thewayside

(9,500 words) Beautifully written, post ep 14. // "Love and violence have always been bedfellows for Kinn. Down to how his first proper relationship ended in a pool of blood. Porsche’s beauty might have drawn him in, but he knows in his gut that he met someone in kind that first night, blood coursing through their veins as the fight ended and Porsche led him onto a bike to a road he barely knew."

Burnished night, blood-soaked stars by The_Old_Astronomer

(13,000 words) Missing scene set between the end of episode 6 and the side story (pre-ep 7). Porsche fights to keep Kinn alive after the attack, and gradually realises how much the other man means to him.

Night Call by vesna (mrsronweasley)

(34,500 words) "On Kinn's birthday, Kinn is dragged by Tae and Time to a strip club, where he gets a private dance from a man who calls himself Jom. Kinn is smitten. Things spin out from there." Canon AU, where Porsche became a stripper because bartending wasn't paying enough.

NFWMB by vesna (mrsronweasley)

(18,700 words) There's a rushing in Kinn's ears, a noise he can't shake. It almost makes him miss the next thing Arm tells him. "He was supposed to check in, as per protocol, but—"  "But what," Kinn snaps. A headache is building behind one of his eyes.  Arm's eyes are wide right before he lowers them and says, "He hasn't been heard from in two and a half hours."  Or, post-canon Porsche is kidnapped. Kinn goes through it.

Caught Off Guard by Altered_Ego

(23,000 words) The one where Porsche is one of his escort's bodyguard. Alternate first meeting; Porsche took another path to support his brother.

the less i know the better by mslunita

(45,000 words) Bored Kinn joins Tinder in hopes of getting his rocks off with a different kind of guy, instead of the standard escorts. Porsche challenges him in just the right way. // Alternate first meeting. Basically their canon selves, but this is after Porsche has already had his bi awakening.

XXX curious STRAIGHT boy BEGS for COCK for the FIRST TIME XXX by mirrorofprinces

(35,000 words ) Porn industry AU. “Porsche is extremely close to signing. In fact, he has a final meeting with the execs on Monday morning. The only condition is that he wants to request his first partner, and it’s you.”  Kinn takes a long drink of his whiskey, sets the glass down, and runs his tongue over his teeth. “So you had to meet with me, urgently, to tell me that a beautiful boy wants me to fuck him, thinking I’d say no.” He drums his fingers on the bartop. “Which means there’s a catch.”

paint my kiss across your chest (your touch is like a happy pill) by darkknight

(16,000 words) Episode 8 era. "Porsche discovers different new ways of how good sex can feel, ways that would never even have crossed his mind before meeting Kinn."

quis custodiet ipsos custode by concernedlily

(8,600 words) Porsche being on dangerous missions and Kinn discovering he has Feelings About That. Missing scenes and Post Ep 14.

Wing of a Butterfly by Kalere

(320,000 words) Some years before the canon storyline, two young men have a random encounter at a bar. Their friendship changes everything. // The epic Porsche & Vegas friendship fic.

[amiserableseriesofevents]

acceptance - muse a kisses muse b’s forehead and lingers for Clegan ? 🥺❤️

Hi! ♥️

Some fluff set in the Such Stuff universe for you 🥰✨

John looks at the list on his phone one more time: ID, phone charger, one of Buck's books, eight clean shirts, two pairs of short sweatpants, underwear, socks, a spare pair of jeans, a camera, a notebook, toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, his trusted razor. For the body wash and shampoo, he'd debated whether to steal some of Buck's, but he'd like to still have a place to stay once he's back.

“All done?” The man in question asks him from where he's looming, leaning against the open door of their bedroom. He's feigning nonchalance but by now John's fully able to read him like an open book; the subtle crease of his brow and the glint of sadness in his eyes are enough to make him sigh as he zips his backpack closed. He still has less than half an hour before he has to go and pick up the others, and then they'll be off for a week touring with their new show, a shortened rendition of The Odyssey.

John would lie if he said he's not excited about it, it's the first show they're touring with since The Tempest; it's also the first time he's leaving to go on tour since moving in with Buck, and that's the not so great part of it. They are so used at having the other around all the time, at coexisting in the same space, at never going to sleep alone; and now John is leaving, even if not for long, and he knows the distance will be a little harder this time.

So he walks up to Buck, who's still stubbornly staring at the void in front of him, and tucks a finger under his chin to tilt his head up. “It's only a week,” he says softly. “I'll be back before you even notice.”

Buck tenses, then lets go. “I am already noticing,” he says, a huge fucking confession from one like him. “There's no beer in the fridge and no socks scattered around in our room. And you stole my book,” he adds, looking pointedly at his now empty bedside table.

“I thought you didn't like beer and having to pick up my dirty socks,” John tries with half a smile.

“It's better than spending a whole week by myself,” Buck answers, then he sighs and brings his hands up to his face, rubbing at it. “I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me. You're working, I know, you're not going on vacation without me. I shouldn't be here complaining like a child.”

John drops his backpack to the floor to hold his boyfriend properly, enveloping him in his strong arms until he can rest his cheek on the side of Buck's head; he feels him tense for a moment, almost resisting the hug, but then Buck melts into it, nuzzling his face in the curve of John's neck, breathing deeply as if to store the smell of him in his nose for the days to come. His arms snake behind John's back, hands clutching at the soft fabric of his sweatshirt to hold him there.

It's been a harsh period on Buck, John knows it very well. Now that he's not a substitute teacher anymore he earns more money and can be more relaxed about his financial stability but he also works a lot more, and now that the winter break is approaching there hasn't been a single day in the past two or three weeks where he didn't have lessons to prepare, tests and essays to grade, parents-teachers meetings to attend to – it's also the reason why he can't join John on these dates in Michigan, despite his tries.

“It's ok, love. You're just working too much,” he reassures him, petting his hair.

“I barely even have the time to take shifts at the Abbotts,” Buck responds, voice muffled by John's skin.

“But your students love you, algebra is doing well thanks to you, and the drama club is fire this year.”

“They are pretty good,” Buck admits making John smile. “I just can't wait for these two weeks to end. I'll be better in January, after I get some rest.”

“I know. Here's what we're gonna do: you're going to survive this week, I'll be sending you math puns and stupid pictures every day like I'm not even gone. Then when I'm back I'm going to take care of you for the remaining week, cleaning the house and cooking all your favorite foods, listening to your rants and cuddling you whenever you need it. Then, for Christmas, we're going to relax at my uncle's cabin just like we planned, and when I say relax I mean I'm not going to let you leave the bed for three days.”

“I don't know that I'm capable of sleeping that much,” Buck comments, a smile clear in his voice.

“And who said anything about sleeping?”

Before the playful teasing can continue though, the alarm on John's phone starts buzzing and he's forced to disentangle himself from the hug to shut it off.

“I have to go,” he says apologetically. Buck still looks like a kicked puppy, but there's more color on his cheeks and the faintest spark in the deep blue of his eyes – it can be enough, for now.

“Did you grab the instant ice?” He asks.

“Ah, fuck. No, I forgot. Don't worry, I'm gonna stop at the supermarket when we get there and-”

“I got you three packs,” Buck shuts him up, this time with a small smile on his lips. “Somehow I knew you were going to forget it.”

John plants a kiss on his lips in response. “That's about the millionth reason why I love you, Buck,” he tells him, making him blush, then he picks up the backpack and follows Buck to the kitchen where he's stored the medical supplies. Then it's really time for him to go, or he'll be late and Crosby will be insufferable.

Buck walks him to the door. John shoots a text to Brady to tell him to meet him at the car, then turns to his boyfriend one last time. “I'll call you when we get there,” he says, leaning to give him one more kiss.

“Be safe. I love you,” Buck tells him, so softly it makes John's heart flutter in his chest. He kisses Buck's forehead in response, lingers there inhaling the familiar smell of his shampoo. “I love you too,” he says, punctuates it with another kiss.

In all his years spent traveling around the country with this show or that one, he's never once felt such a pull to return to one specific place, not even to his parents's house in Wisconsin. He's never felt, John realizes as he watches Buck disappear behind the closing doors of the elevator, at home.

It fills his heart with love, and such tender nostalgia; now he knows how Odysseus felt on his long journey to Ithaca. Lucky for him, a week is bound to pass much quicker than ten years.

[somefanficrecomendations]

December Monthly Roundup

Here's December's fic round up!

DC/BATMAN

Worlds Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam   (gen)7k, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd-Centric Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.

Batstream by RandomReader13 (gen), 6k, Bats on social media, Humor   “I want it on record that I think this is a terrible idea and I’m only doing this to mitigate the damage." AKA Red Robin decides it's a great idea to livestream patrol while Batman's off-world. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

cards on the table by wesslan (gen) 67k, WIP, Fortune Teller AU, Tim Drake-Centric  Tim's parents faked their deaths and fled the country years ago, but neglected to take him with them. He spent some time on the streets, and now at 16, he makes a living as a fortune teller, stalking and hustling the shit out of Gotham's elite by telling them eerily accurate fortunes based on the information he gathers about them.  His life is peculiar but he wouldn't change a thing. When he gets booked for the big Wayne Halloween party, however, he finds himself getting all tangled up with the Waynes, and the more fortunes he tells, the tighter the snare becomes.  or: Tim just wanted to scam Gotham's elite, not end up on the Batfamily's watchlist. But it seems they just won't leave him alone..

(a not so) lonesome town by wesslan   (gen), 10k, 2-part series, Sentient Gotham, Jazz music. Two works in which Gotham City is sentient and adopts enough kids to rival Batman himself (Batman is one of them).

Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee) (gen), 43k, Meta Tim, Resurrection Powers   Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.  When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.  But most of all, Tim is alone.  (If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)

HUNGER GAMES

right here in the old therebefore by californianNostalgia (Katniss/Peeta) 14k, Canon Divergence, Ghosts There’s a ghost at the Hanging Tree. Katniss sees him first when she’s six, her hair in braids, the song about the growing gallows fresh in her mind. This changes nothing. This changes some things. (In which Lucy Gray killed Coriolanus at the lake.)

How Rue Became the Mockingjay by aimmyarrowshigh (multi) 5k, Different 74th Victors AU Katniss Everdeen and the girl from Eleven are ruining their best-laid plans – the Capitol’s and the Rebels’. So Caesar, they say. Announce the change. An alternate chronology for The Hunger Games.

CROSSOVERS

Annabeth and the Nine Step Career Plan by feeling_the_aster_9145 (Annabeth/Percy), 76k, PJO x DCU, Annabeth gets Lex Luthor arrested, BAMF Annabeth. Annabeth Chase does not accept limitations. Everyone knows that. If she wants something, no matter how impossible, she will find a way to make it happen. Though, perhaps she will allow Bruce Wayne and his ridiculous paranoia-induced company restrictions a small portion of the credit. Actually… now that she thinks about it, the man may have had a point in his worries. Wayne Technologies does not accept college interns. Annabeth always has a plan B.

A Lesson in Superiority by Nation-Ustria (gen), 96k, WIP, Batfam x Harry Potter, Damian Wayne is Harry Potter, Wizarding Politics “The good news is, he’s not cursed,” Constantine says. “And the bad news?” Dick asks sharply. Constantine squints. “I wouldn’t call it bad news so much as, er, news.” He turns to Damian with something like a grimace. “You’re a wizard, kid.” “...I’m a what?”

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 10 - Party]

Warnings: sexual harassment by a stranger, he gets what he deserves though, violence, sub!Reader, Dom!Taehyung, making out & dry humping on the dance floor, then there is: subby!Tae & Dom!Jimin with dry humping & cumming in pants, and then on a separate occasion: Dom!Jimin & sub!Reader, public sex in a club bathroom, thigh riding, sloppy making out, he fucks her against the sink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampies, dirty talk, choking & breath play, he calls her a needy slut at some parts, he is a cocky bastard and we love him, questionable blood drinking sjdjsj, this chapter goes from cute to hot to creepy to okay hot to Jimin nO

Wordcount: 19.3k (listen there is so much plot & thirst hahaha)

a/n: listen. he. does things to me. i am both scared and aroused. lmao please help.   

Yoongi and Jungkook are out hunting tonight. They took Hoseok with them. Seokjin and Emma are in their room. Their door is locked and if one decided to be a creep, one could hear certain sounds coming from inside. You take a huge step back once you realise what those grunts meant, apologizing quietly even if you are sure they didn’t even notice your presence.

You huff out air. Well there goes your plan for a fun board game evening with them.

“They deserve to have two on two time though”, you murmur, turning afterwards to make your way down the hallway, “I guess we have to make do with three players.”

You wanted to ask the gang if they were in the mood for games and some wine. Just moments ago, you finished the book you were reading the past week and started to feel rather bored in your room, while a board game evening started to sound like the perfect way to spend your evening. Emma and Seokjin are obviously out of the equation now and you hope that at least Jimin or Taehyung agree on playing a game.

You knock on Jimin’s room first because it is the one you pass by first.

He opens after a moment and like always, he wears nothing more than a towel. His hair is wet and the smell of shampoo is entering the hallway. It carries Taehyung’s scent in it. He was nice enough to borrow Jimin a bottle of it as Jimin obviously had no toiletry. Jimin and Taehyung went back to Thea earlier today to get Jimin’s very few belongings. However, a bottle of shampoo was not part of it, hence why Jimin now smells like Taehyung.

“What do you want?” he asks you, running his eyes up and down your body.

“Hey to you too”, you say, studying him. 

“Hey”, he says, “what do you want? I’m a little busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Washing my hair obviously?” he says and scoffs, “what else do you think I’m doing?”

“I think it looks good already”, you say, reaching out to tug a strand of it behind his ear.

He eyes your hand, “thanks.”

“You must admit, it’s nice having a warm shower again, isn’t it?” you say.

“I guess,” he says and nudges your hand away, “listen, what do you want?” he asks, sounding tired.

“Do you want to play board games?”

He scoffs condescendingly, “why should I play board games?”

You must admit, even if Jimin’s better than everything attitude is annoying at times, it is nice to know that he is getting some of it back again. Reuniting with Taehyung really gave him back some of his spark. You can also see it in the way his dark eye circles seem to have magically disappeared ever since he has Taehyung in his life again.

You shrug your shoulders, “don’t know. I’ll ask Tae as well. It’s just the three of us, maybe we could bond a little.”

Jimin grinds his teeth, studying your features. For a moment you think that he will throw the door closed on you, until he sighs dramatically. He rolls his eyes to the point you fear they will get stuck.

“Just tell me what Tae’s saying and then I’ll decide”, he says, closing the door on you right after. Seconds later you can hear R&B music playing and the sound of a blow dryer.

“Okay. Will do”, you murmur, leaving after giving his door one aggressive nudge, “rude. Don’t close the door on me.”

And so you continue your way to Taehyung’s room, hoping that he will say yes.

Taehyung doesn’t open the door, but calls out for you when you knock. So you enter, inhaling deeply. Goddamn, his room smells nice. Acrylic paints and his terribly expensive cologne with a hint of red wine. This is him. This is Taehyung on a good day. Expensive, artistice and sexy. You really missed this smell.

“Hello, my darling”, he says.

“Hey.”

“What brings you here?”

“I finished my book.”

“You did? Well, that’s wonderful to hear. How did you enjoy it?”

“It was nice. The ending felt a little rushed, but I think it still ended nicely.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

He is sitting on the floor, surrounded by his paints and wearing his painting clothes. No wonder he couldn’t get up, you have to do an entire gymnastics routine to make your way to him. You plop down on his lap.

“Oh? Hello there”, he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Hey”, you say, resting your cheek on his shoulder, “what are you doing?”

“Just painting a little. I had some inspiration”, he answers you whilst giving you the softest of nibbles with his teeth. It tickles just enough to make you shiver, “mhm darling, you smell so nice”, he says, “are you wearing perfume?”

“A little.”

“It’s very nice”, he says, rubbing his nose against your neck. A soft kiss follows.

With your eyes closed, you speak.

“It's the perfume you got me.”

“Last year for the masquerade ball?”

“Yes, that one. I really like it.”

“Mhhm I like it too”, Taehyung whispers, inhaling deeply. His long fingers give your hips a gentle squeeze, letting you know that he was affected by your scent.

“It's almost empty though”, you sigh the words. His touches and soft kisses felt too good not to.

“That is no problem. I will buy you a new one.”

“Thank you, Tae”, you say, twirling his hair at the back of his head, “hey, Tae?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you want to play some board games?”

“Board games? Are the others going to join us as well?”

“No, they already left.”

“Left for what?”

“Yoongi and Kookie are hunting and Hobi joined them.”

“I see. Well, that is a shame. I would have loved to join them too”, Taehyung says and huffs out air.

You lean in and kiss his cheek, “see it as something positive. We’ve got the house to ourselves.”

Taehyung’s pout turns into a mischievous grin. He drops his paintbrush, lifting you in his lap so he could place you down on it high enough so you were face to face with him. He runs his hands up and down your back, lingering on your butt ever so often.

“Well, if you put it like that, perhaps I should be glad that they didn’t tell me”, he says, fluttering his lashes at you playfully, “what do you want to play? Strip poker, mhm? But I should warn you, I am going to use my teeth to undress you.”

You giggle, “that could be fun, couldn’t it?”

“Yes. Very”, he says, inching closer.

“But I don’t know if Jimin would be down for it.”

Taehyung halts.

“Jimin is here as well?”

“Yes, he’s washing his hair. I thought maybe we could play games together? The three of us?”

“You would want that?”

“Yes. I think that it could be fun.”

“Oh darling”, Taehyung smiles so brightly, that you’re glad you asked him, “that would make me so happy”, he says and stands up with you in his arms.

“Gosh Tae, don’t surprise me like that”, you say, giggling when he bounces you in his arms and leaves the room just like that, “are you going to carry me to his room?”

“Yes, of course. You shouldn’t have to walk.”

“Ah so silly.”

Taehyung snickers and kisses your cheek.

Jimin opens the door after the second knock.

“Geez. Are you serious?” he groans, “why you gotta be so cringe?”

“Be quiet”, Taehyung says, bouncing you in his arms to tighten his grip, “do you want to play games with us?”

Jimin studies the two of you and gives in with a loud sigh, “fine, just let me change into pants.”

“Of course. We are in the kitchen. Come join us.”

And with that said, he descends the stairs and Jimin closes the door to change into pants.

Taehyung places you on the kitchen counter, feeling up your thighs while between your hips not even a feather could fit through.

“You truly smell so good”, he says, “oh darling, I can’t get enough of you.”

“Tae”, you giggle as he nuzzles his face into you, “why are you so snuggly today? Are you hungry?”

“A little. Can I have you later?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

Taehyung purrs, squeezing your thigh.

“Please?” he tries, making you chuckle.

“We’ll see about it once you made me cum.”

“Deal. Oh, you’ve got yourself a deal”, he says, rolling his hips into you.

A sigh runs through you.

“So about that strip poker you were talking about?”

Taehyung chuckles, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“Did I tempt you?”

“Maybe a little? It could be hot.”

“Yes? Do you want to play it?”

“No.”

You both look at the doorway.

“If guys are going to play strip poker, I am leaving. I’m not in the mood to watch you guys crawl up each others’ asses.”

“You are no fun, Jimin. Aren’t you basically undressed already?” you say, pointing at his naked torso.

“This?” he looks down at himself, “honey, that’s me being dressed, I don’t know what you’re on about.”

You scoff, jumping off the kitchen counter.

“Don’t worry though, we’re not gonna play strip poker”, you run your eyes up and down his body, “you are not seeing my tits tonight.”

“Trust me, I didn’t plan on doing that either way.”

Taehyung snickers, then throws his arms over both your and Jimin’s shoulders.

“Oh you two, tonight is going to be fun”, he says, dragging you to the dining table, “what should we play first?”

“Anything but strip poker.”

“Fine, then normal poker. The loser has to take a shot.”

“Or we could actually go out”, Jimin suggests, “like good old times.”

“Oh? A night out?” Taehyung gasps, turning to you, “would you be interested in going out with us?” he asks you.

“Yes, I think that could be fun”, you say.

“Oh how wonderful. Let’s get ready then”, Taehyung says and lets out a squeaky giggle, taking your hand to tug you upstairs, “I have the perfect clothes for going out. Oh, I’m so excited.”

“Wait. What? Tae I don’t even have clothes for it”, Jimin complains, getting dragged along with Taehyung.

“That is okay. I have something for you”, Taehyung assures him, “darling, do you need something too? I have clothes that you could like.”

“You packed clothes for me?”

“I purchased them in Geneva, but never got the chance to give them to you.”

He flusters you.

“You did? Oh darling, please show me”, you gush, feeling oh so happy.

The clothes turn out to be the matching piece to Taehyung’s outfit. A black turtleneck with its sleeves missing and the back exposed. Black sequins adorn the fabric and a matching black bra keeps the top from slipping to places it wasn’t supposed to slip. Tight jeans reach you on the smallest part of your waist, accentuating your curves with the help of a delicate black belt. Taehyung matches with a black sequin top and leather pants, highlighting the look with a red leather jacket. He looks to die for and you feel beautiful.

Jimin hasn’t decided on an outfit yet, currently eyeing every piece of clothing Taehyung presents to him with slight judgment.

“How about this?” Taehyung offers, holding a black leather harness against Jimin’s torso, “you would look so handsome in this.”

“No. Fuck off with that. It’s ugly”, Jimin hisses, pushing at Taehyung’s chest.

This is the fifth piece of clothing he rejected.

Taehyung stumbles back, staring at Jimin with widened eyes.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so angry all of a sudden?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t like your clothes”, Jimin says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Taehyung lowers his hands sadly, running his eyes up and down Jimin’s torso.

“But why? You look really handsome in them”, he says with a pout.

Jimin scoffs.

"I don’t like it, okay?" he hisses.

“Okay, that’s okay. I have something else. Give me a moment, please”, Taehyung says, dropping the harness to instead look for something else, “do you want to look more modern or classic? I could offer you a sheer top, which still shows off your chest.”

“I don’t want to go out anymore”, Jimin says.

“What?” Taehyung gasps, getting up from looking through his suitcase to stare at Jimin, “but why? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I just. I don’t want to go out anymore.”

“I have this v-neck shirt. Do you want to try this? It shows off skin as well.”

“No. I don’t want to.”

Taehyung closes his mouth and stares. He fumbles with his fingers.

“Why?” he asks in a whisper.

“Because. That’s why.”

“Okay?” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, “is it the clothes?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung looks sad.

“I don’t…”, Jimin takes a deep breath, “I don’t want to show my chest in public.”

“Oh.”

Taehyung’s eyes flit to the silver mark. Yours do as well. Jimin covers it with his hand instantly. He lowers his head.

“Fuck, this is so fucking stupid. You are both so annoying”, he spits and tries to flee.

Taehyung holds his hands before he can, pulling them to his chest and holding them hostage right where his heart was once beating.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I have shirts which will cover you”, he says.

“You do?” Jimin asks nervously.

“Of course I do. Stay and let me show you and, and if you still don’t like them, then you can leave. Please?”

Jimin nods his head. Taehyung turns and hurries to his suitcase. He looks for a fitting shirt for a few moments before he exclaims in victory. He pulls out a black button up with a loose fit and a black leather corset.

“Pair this shirt with this corset and you will look very handsome”, he says excitedly, hurrying back to Jimin. He hesitates, looking into Jimin’s eyes, “can I put it on for you?”

“I guess.”

Jimin stares at Taehyung’s face as the latter puts on the button up. His jaw is tight, but his eyes are soft. Taehyung runs his hands up Jimin’s arms and gives his shoulders a soft squeeze.

“The shoulders are a little too long”, he says.

“I don’t mind”, Jimin answers him.

Taehyung nods his head in understanding and slips his hands under the shirt. You can watch how Jimin’s chest lifts in a deep gasp. A squirm follows as Taehyung brushes his thumb over the silver mark.

“I think”, Taehyung whispers, “I think you look beautiful.”

Jimin exhales shakily, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling. Their eyes meet.

“I don’t think you should hide. It is a reminder that you survived”, Taehyung says, “in my eyes”, he adds, lifting his brows in unsure nervousness.

Jimin places his fingers around Taehyung’s wrists and nods his head.

“You’re a dreamer, Taetae”, he says, removing Taehyung’s hands and placing them on his own chest, “thank you for the shirt. I like it a lot. I’ll style it and come back”, he says and turns to disappear in the bathroom.

Taehyung wipes his balled fist over his eyes and turns to you.

“Hah”, he lets out, blinking the glassiness away, “forgive me”, he clears his throat.

“Are you okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, taking big steps to get to you.

“Come. Let us look at ourselves in the mirror.”

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

The clothes are perfect for you, fitting you as if they were made for you. Taehyung places his hands on your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at you in the reflection of the mirror.

“How do you feel?” he asks you.

“Really sexy. I like that it shows off my back and there”, you point at your exposed side, “I like this part a lot.”

Taehyung hums, turning his head to brush his lips over your neck in a kiss.

“I think you look like a goddess”, he whispers.

You sigh, placing your hands over his to give them a gentle squeeze. Taehyung lifts his gaze, giving you a playful smile.

“So you enjoy the clothes?” he asks.

“I love them”, you whisper, “Tae.”

“Yes, darling?”

“Your touch is nice.”

He smiles, “you are so beautiful. I won’t ever get enough of you”, he says, kissing your shoulder, “close your eyes, I have something else for you.”

“Okay.”

You wait for him with a fluttering heart.

Taehyung places something around your neck. It brushes your skin in a soft touch, making you gasp in reaction. It must be a necklace as Taehyung is closing something in the back, brushing his fingertips over your neck as gently as possible.

“Open your eyes”, he whispers.

It is a necklace. A golden heart locket on a delicate chain.

“Tae”, you gasp, touching it gently, “Tae, this is beautiful.”

“Open it”, he says, fingers resting on your waist and nervous eyes watching you.

You do as he told you. A strand of dark hair reveals itself to you.

“Is that?”

“It’s my hair”, Taehyung’s nervousness grows, “I want you to know that how I acted these past few weeks, it…it wasn’t who I wanted to be and I am ashamed of what I did and the awful things I said to you. I know it isn’t much, but I hope that this strand of hair can show you that you will always have a piece of me and that I love you”, he widens his eyes adorably, “most ardently.”

You close the locket to make sure the strand of hair will always stay safe. Then you turn, placing your hands at the back of his head. Taehyung’s eyes race between yours, his breathing is quickened.

“I love you too”, you say, playing with his hair slowly, “I know how much you had going on, so I know why you weren’t really yourself lately. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Do you really mean that?” he asks.

“Yes”, you cup his cheeks, “I’m so happy that you are finally starting to heal.”

Taehyung exhales shakily, shedding millions pounds of burden with this one single breath. He begins smiling, eyes sparkling in happy adoration.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

You pull him close, answering him by kissing his lips with all the love in the world. Taehyung sighs, chasing you with his trembling hands resting on your lower back and his lips allowing you to guide him. He hasn’t felt such relief and happiness in ages. To kiss you, knowing that all was well in the world and most importantly between you and him, feels like paradise to his gradually healing heart. He is aware that you never judged him for the twisted ways his grief forced him to act and yet he will never find the words to tell you just how grateful he is for your forgiveness. He will never take your loving heart for granted, promising you with the sweetest kiss that from now on he will make sure to carry it in his hands safely.

You break the kiss too soon for his taste, making him sigh for one more.

“Please”, he breathes, cupping your cheek and brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek, “don’t stop.”

“Oh Tae”, you sigh, pulling him into the kiss he craves with all his heart. Taehyung thanks you with a sweet moan and his fingers tightening on your cheek in desperate gratitude. It feels good to kiss Taehyung now that his heart has been unburdened from grief. He kisses you back as if he wanted it to happen and not because he thought it necessary to do. You have no selfish intent behind that joy, instead you are happy knowing that Taehyung feels relieved enough to finally enjoy the sweeter things of life again.

The kiss breaks not because you wanted it to happen, neither because Taehyung wanted to stop, but because the door to the bathroom opened and Jimin entered the bedroom. You and Taehyung look at him, but stay close, hands still connected with the other’s body.

Jimin wears black pants to his shirt and has his hair styled out of his face. Dark eye makeup accentuates the intensity of his gaze and translucent lip gloss makes his plumb lips shine.

“Look at you. You look stunning, Jimin”, Taehyung gasps, scanning over his best friend’s body from head to toe.

“You really do. That corset fits you so well”, you say, nodding your head in agreement.

“I know”, Jimin answers you confidently.

Taehyung closes the distance between him and Jimin to study his face.

“Did you put make-up on?”

“Of course I did. I look good in it. What are you looking at? Do you want it too?”

Taehyung shakes his head, lifting his shoulders to his ears shyly.

“It wouldn’t fit me.”

“Oh come now, don’t be ridiculous”, Jimin says and pushes Taehyung on the bed.

His back hits the mattress, eliciting a surprised gasp from him. Within seconds, Jimin is straddling his lap, now pinning him down with nothing but a look.

“Stay still”, he orders.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung hushes.

“Your make-up.”

“But I don’t-”

Jimin pins him down.

“Stay still, Tae. Your face’s made for it.”

Taehyung tries to stay still, staring up at Jimin with big eyes until it is time for him to close them as Jimin dances his make-up brush over his lids skilfully.

It is truly the most peculiar scene to watch. They seem so familiar with the situation. As if such occurrences are normal in their friendship. And it is truly peculiar, because Jimin somehow seems to fit so well on Taehyung’s lap. Sitting on him in the perfect spots as if muscle memory made him choose the right place.

“Stop fluttering your lashes, Tae”, he speaks softly.

“But it tickles”, Taehyung answers him and his voice sounds different than when he talks to other people. You can’t describe it. It just does. It sounds a little higher, maybe more innocent. As if a boy was talking to someone he looks up to. 

“I know. It’s because you are always moving your eyes. You have to stay still.”

“I can’t help it, you’re so rough.”

“I’m not, you crybaby.”

Taehyung opens his eyes, locking them with Jimin. You can watch how his hands, once resting on the mattress, find rest on Jimin’s thighs. Jimin, ever so roughly, grabs Taehyung’s chin to move his head from left to right as he inspects his work.

“You look handsome.”

“Did you use glitter?”

“Yeah of course I did. Like always.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll do the other eye now. So close them.”

Taehyung follows, parting his lips in relaxation while Jimin mixes and blends the most beautiful shades of gold and red on his lid.

So they did it before. Their dialogue was proof enough. This isn’t the first time they find themselves in such a situation. It makes you wonder just how far their friendship goes and how blurry those lines between them truly are. The more you get to watch them in the privacy of four walls and solitude, the blurrier they seem to you. Perhaps however this is what centuries of companionship does. Two souls connecting in unidentifiable ways, but with the only purpose to stay together because they were meant to do so. 

Taehyung dances his hands up Jimin’s thighs then, letting them linger on his hips before touching his waist. Fabric lies between his fingers and Jimin’s torso and yet, they both squirm as if he touched naked skin.

“Ah crap”, Jimin curses, licking his pinkie finger so he can clean off the falsely placed eye shadow.

“It’s my lid again, isn’t it?” Taehyung asks.

“Mhm-hm yeah. I always forget it’s different than your left and mess up”, Jimin speaks slowly as his concentration is on getting the look right. He licks his pointer finger, using his spit to wipe off the last remainders of his mistake.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s difficult to get right.”

“Don’t apologise, you have the most perfect eyes.”

Taehyung opens them.

“Keep them closed. “

And closes them, gripping Jimin’s hips with slight desperation. Truly, it fascinates you. You feel so out of place here, so forbidden. As if you are an unknowing bystander stumbling into a scene which was never meant to be shared with anyone except Taehyung and Jimin.

Jimin paints again. He goes slow, keeping minimal distance between their faces to see better. Taehyung’s hands run down Jimin’s thighs again, changing course once he reaches his knees. They disappear from your view, but you know that they are travelling up Jimin’s inner thighs. It makes the latter move his hips back and forth before his left hand disappears between his legs. In a rough movement he has Taehyung’s hands pinned above his head.

“Don’t get greedy”, he rasps.

Taehyung mewls.

“I’m not done with your look. You’re such a whore.”

“I’m not a whore.”

“Sure you are, you’ve always been one and will always be one.”

Taehyung opens his eyes to send Jimin a look. You can’t distinguish if it is supposed to be angry or innocent.

“You’re a whore too.”

“I know”, Jimin smirks, “now close your eyes. I’m almost done, just have to do the eyeliner.”

Taehyung closes his eyes.

“Are you going to do a colour?”

“I was going to do black. But do you want me to do a colour?”

“Yes, do a colour.”

“I’ll do red then. Red suits you.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

“Red suits you too.”

“I know. You look better though.”

“No, you do.”

Jimin chuckles.

Taehyung chuckles too. He touches Jimin’s thighs again, keeping his hands still.

Jimin parts his lips then, giving view to the tip of his tongue as he gets lost in concentration. He doesn’t want to mess up, holding Taehyung’s face between his strong fingers just so the latter wouldn’t accidentally move it and mess up his artwork.

“I did the left one perfectly”, he says, “now I just have to do the right one the same way.”

“You can do it, you’ve always had a talent for it.”

“I know. Now, stay still Tae.”

“I am”, Taehyung breathes.

Jimin works diligently, finishing off the wing with a click of his tongue and a proud smirk. He sits up, putting his weight on Taehyung’s lap. Then he closes the eyeliner, throwing it on the mattress next to his eyeshadow palette.

“Stay still, I have to dry it”, he orders and leans in, puckering his lips so he could blow on Taehyung’s lids.

The latter parts his lips, touching Jimin’s hips and giving them an almost greedy squeeze.

You can hear how Jimin blows on him. The sound is confident in the room, almost drowning out the sounds of outside traffic and people getting drunk on the streets. Which was most impossible to imagine as those sounds were scientifically louder in nature, but still somehow that gentle sound of blowing filled up the entire room. It was weighed with intimacy. With familiarity. With moments so well known they became a routine. And because it carried so much with it, it managed to overpower the louder sounds from outside.  

Jimin stops blowing, straightening up and shifting his weight back on Taehyung’s lap with a smooth roll of his hips. He places his hands on Taehyung’s chest then, distributing his weight between his lap and his torso. Then he arches his back just slightly, using the new position to stick out his ass.

“All done”, he says.

Taehyung flutters his eyes open, looking up at Jimin with his painted eyelids and his naked lips still parted. Jimin studies his face, rocking his body back and forth. It changes the point of where most of his weight was put on rhythmically.

“Actually”, he says, “I feel like you need something on your lips.”

Jimin disappears in the bathroom, but returns a second later with a bag of make-up. He sits down on Taehyung’s lap, choosing a higher-up position than last time.

You can watch how Taehyung parts his lips in a silent gasp and how his eyes seem to widen just slightly. You know exactly where he must have sat down. Oh truly, the lines are getting blurrier and blurrier.

Jimin seems unaffected however, rummaging around in his bag until he finds what he deems worthy. He pulls out a golden tube and places the black bag beside Taehyung’s head.

“What’s that?” Taehyung asks.

“Lipgloss. The one with golden shimmer in it”, Jimin says, grabbing Taehyung’s chin to keep his head steady.

“But I’ll just rub it off.”

“Then I’ll reapply it for you.”

“Jimin, it’s so much work.”

“No, it’s not. I’ll do it for you.”

Taehyung looks at Jimin.

“Trust me, you’ll look handsome in it.”

Taehyung seems to relax, keeping his lips in a position that would allow Jimin to apply the gloss. He finishes off by wiping away the spots where he messed up, wiping it into the sheets afterwards.

“Now you’re done.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, you look handsome. Do you want to see?”

Taehyung nods his head.

Jimin reaches for a hand mirror and lifts it to Taehyung’s face. Taehyung reaches for it, placing his hands over Jimin’s to keep the mirror steady. He moves his head left and right, fluttering his lashes and puckering his lips.

“And?”

“I like it.”

“Yeah? Do you think you’re handsome?”

“Yes, I look really handsome.”

“I know”, Jimin lowers the mirror and reaches out to give Taehyung’s left cheek a soft pinch, “you look really handsome.”

Taehyung giggles, lifting his shoulders to his ears. Jimin shows his teeth in a smile.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks.

“It’s nothing”, Taehyung covers his face with his hands.

“Hey, don’t”, Jimin warns, pinning his hands next to his head, “you’ll rub the make-up off.”

“I’m sorry”, Taehyung whispers, closing his fingers around Jimin’s hands.

Silence. Their eyes race between each other. They take a shaky breath. Their fingers squeeze each other.

“Taehyung, I”, Jimin begins in a whispers.

“Yes?” Taehyung breathes.

“I just…”

“Yes, Jimin?”

“I…I think we should go now before it gets too crowded.”

“Yes, I think that is a good idea.”

Jimin gets off Taehyung’s lap, shifting his gaze to you. His hand falls to the side of his neck, his eyes break away again.

“I’m getting a cab”, he says, hurrying out of the room in big steps.

Taehyung sits up, touching his chest. He smiles, squeezing his eyes shut and giggling quietly. He lifts his head when he feels your finger under his chin.

“You look so handsome”, you say, lighting up his eyes.

He stands up, holding your wrists gently.

“I’m happy”, he confesses.

“I’m happy too, my darling.”

“I'm really happy”, he says and you know the deeper meaning behind this sentence. 

“Me too, my darling”, you say and smile.

Taehyung giggles, “oh, I can’t wait for tonight. We will have so much fun.”

“I think so as well”, you say, “should we check if Jimin managed to get a cab?”

“Yes, let us check.”

Jimin is already outside by a car, looking stressed.

“Hurry up”, he calls out and waves at you, holding open the door to the cab he managed to successfully call.

You and Taehyung increase your steps, holding hands as you cross the street.

“You were successful”, you say as you get into the cab.

“I was”, Jimin says, waiting for Taehyung to get inside as well before he does the same. He closes the door and after Taehyung tells the driver the name of the club, the cab drives off.

Taehyung claimed the middle seat, spreading his legs and throwing his arm over your shoulder.

“I am so excited for tonight”, he says, “this is the first time you are partying with us, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is.”

“Oh, you will love it. We are so much fun.”

“I can imagine. Did you guys go to parties in the past?” 

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look, cracking up at the same time.

“Too many times to count. We were mad back then”, Taehyung snickers, nudging Jimin with his knee, “he loved to get high.”

“I still do”, Jimin says nonchalantly. 

“Yes? Are you hoping to get lucky tonight?” 

“Maybe. Let’s see what the night brings.”

“Hobi told me that you can only really get high through blood drinking”, you say.

“Indeed. But worry not, Jimin is in perfect control.”

“Hah yeah”, Jimin says, touching the side of his neck, “control’s not a problem for me.”

“See? So don't bug your mind with it, darling”, Taehyung assures you, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “maybe I can get lucky as well, mhm?”

“Tae not here”, you whisper, flustering vigorously.

“Mhm”, Taehyung hums and chuckles, leaving one lasting kiss on your neck before he straightens up again.

“You guys blood share?” Jimin asks, eyeing you.

“We do. Oh Jimin, she tastes so good.”

“I know”, Jimin says and for just a second the silence is awkward between the three of you.

Taehyung is the one to break it, laughing loudly.

“I completely forgot that you tasted her before. Oh dear, thank the heavens that we escaped this situation.”

Jimin smiles lazily, “yeah, totally”, he says, glancing at you.

It is awkward at first, but in the end you both end up chuckling. The air feels light again. 

“I partied with Fringella a few weeks ago”, Taehyung says. 

“You did? That must have gone splendidly”, Jimin says, cocking his right eyebrow up.

“It went how you imagine it to go. I got way too high”, Taehyung says and laughs.

Jimin chuckles, caressing Taehyung’s neck.

“You're so reckless, Taetae. Fringella’s not good company to get high with.”

“Certainly?” Taehyung looks at Jimin with widened eyes, “it surprises me to hear such words from you.”

“Yeah, I think dying made me boring. I think Fringella’s orgies would piss me off these days.”

“No, I don’t think they would. You just aren’t used to them anymore.”

“No Taetae, they would”, Jimin insists, playing with Taehyung’s hair, “I don’t like you seeing with Fringella. She isn’t good for you.”

Taehyung blinks in confusion. It is obvious that he didn’t expect Jimin to be so caring. 

“I don’t know what to say”, he confesses in a whisper.

“Don’t say anything. It’s fucking stupid either way”, Jimin says, turning away, “you should be with me, not with assholes.”

“Are you jealous?” Taehyung asks, leaning closer until he can hug Jimin’s waist. Like this, he is pressing his butt into the side of your thigh. 

“You know I am”, Jimin doesn’t feel the need to hide away.

“No Jimin, don’t be. Fringella’s nothing but temporary fun. She always has been. You know that, don’t you?”

“I guess” Jimin murmurs.

“Good. Don’t forget that”, Taehyung says and straightens back up. He turns to you, taking your hand. He leads it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. The gesture is sweet and makes you feel good.

The club is located a twenty minute drive from the apartment. The bouncer lets you inside right away after seeing Jimin.

“It has been ages hasn’t it?” he greets his old friend to which Jimin tells him that it has only been two years.

“Does he know you guys?”

“Yes, we spent countless nights in this club”, Taehyung tells you, keeping you close to him with a hand on your lower back. The touch feels nice because it lets you know that he was there even in this stuffy, busy club.

The club is dark inside except for the colourful neon lights illuminating the dance floor. Smoke from the smoke machines hangs heavy in the air, hiding the face of strangers from your view. You draw closer to Taehyung. He wraps his arm around you instantly, pressing you into him and making you feel so incredibly safe. It also feels really empowering to walk with him like that. People stare and they stare for a reason because Taehyung looks to die for. So knowing that you are the woman by his side feels incredible.

Jimin circles you so he is facing you and Taehyung. You step closer so you can hear him over the loud music.

“I’ll get the drinks. Any wishes?”

“I’ll take what Tae takes.”

“I’ll take what you take, Jimin”, Taehyung says to which Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Three Cosmos then”, he says and turns to disappear in the crowd.

“Come”, Taehyung says, taking your hands, “shall we dance?”

“Yes, I’d love to”, you tell him, allowing him to lead you to the middle of the dance floor. 

It is crowded and hot on the floor, but you don’t mind. Taehyung pulls you into him, keeping a protective grip on your hips. His eyes are locked onto yours, keeping you willing hostage. 

He knows how to dance immediately, moving your hips to the melody. There isn’t much melody. The deep bass and hard drums drown out any sense of melodic composition. But that doesn’t mean the music wasn’t art. It was. Addicting, body consuming art, forcing you to draw closer to Taehyung until you can almost merge with him. 

He leans closer, his voice tickles you as he speaks.

“You look so beautiful”, he says, “I can’t stop looking at you.”

He straightens up, looking into your eyes deeply. His hands slip from your hips, gliding up your waist until they linger and squeeze. Right where you are the most sensitive. Your knees buckle because of it, your hips chase him. 

Taehyung finally breaks eye contact to instead look at your lips. One. Two. Three seconds and he is pinning you down again. One. Two. Three seconds and he moves in. He presses his finger to your ear so he can talk normally and you can hear him perfectly. The gesture sends shivers down your spine.

“You have me bewitched”, he rasps, “we have been in this club for merely five minutes and I already want to rip these pesky little clothes off of you and bounce you on my cock.”

“Tae”, you gasp, moving back to gawk at him. This talk isn’t like him, leaving you dizzy.

Taehyung smirks lazily, taking your chin between two of his fingers. He brushes his thumb over your lips. Once. Twice. He pulls back and kisses the pad of his thumb, lowering his eyes playfully. He ignores the needy grip your fingers get on his shoulders, guiding his hands back to your waist with all the calm in the world.

“Beautiful”, he mouths the word as the music drowns out his voice. You twist his shirt at the front. The fabric feels rough on your skin. Taehyung stumbles closer, allowing you to pull his head down. He purrs when you hook your fingers behind his head and press your lips against his ear.

“You’re so mean. Why would you say that?”

Taehyung smirks, turning his head to speak in your stead. His lips tickle your ear, his voice is sultry.

“Why should I lie?” he asks, placing a feather light kiss on your neck afterwards. He growls playfully, “you smell so good, my sweetest”, he rasps.

You turn your head, making him shiver by running your fingers through his hair before twisting it and guiding his ear to your lips.

“I taste even better”, you coo, snickering when Taehyung lifts his head just to gawk in surprise.

He didn’t expect you to talk back. Good. You break away from him just to dance in front of him, throwing your arms over your head and swinging your hips to the melody. Taehyung chases you instantly, hips melted together and strong hands on your waist. He seeks your kiss, mouthing your name in a sigh. He’s got you charged. Aching for his lips. His taste. His hair tickles your fingers as you twist it again, your body chases him in rhythmic rolls.

Perhaps you never meant to go out tonight. Perhaps all you truly wanted to do was get pretty and chase each other in a dance of too much desire. Being here in this dark club with hot bodies surrounding you and the loud music making ever fibre in your body vibrate turns you on so fucking much.

Taehyung leans in, you flee with a tilt of your head. He purrs in desperation, squeezing your waist. He needs you. He needed you ever since he saw you in your clothes. Perhaps even earlier when you sat down on his lap and kissed his neck. He hasn’t carved you so ardently for months. His grief kept him hostage, made him want meaningless sex to drown out the pain and left him uninterested in the addicting pleasure your presence gives him. He didn’t want to soil it. The tension, the electricity, the feeling of being robbed of air. Only you can make him feel that way. And he didn’t want to taint it. It is way too precious to him.

And now he craves it. He feels starved of you. Your kiss, your touch, your taste. He needs you to feed him, fill his every vein with the essence of you.

Taehyung places his hand at the back of your neck, tilting your head up. There is no escape for you now. He has you caged and at his mercy. Taehyung claims your lips in a passionate kiss, forcing your knees to buckle. He moans into the kiss, feeling the needy whimper you let out against his lips. His veins fill with the essence of you, leaving him disorientated. Craving more. His right hand falls to your lower back, pressing you into him. You stumble, fingernails scratching down his neck as you claw for balance. He hasn’t kissed you like that in ages. You have already forgotten just how much passion he has for you. You don’t blame him for the distance he needed in the past few months, but you have to be honest with yourself and admit that you truly missed the manic desire he kissed you with in the past.

Mere minutes later and your panties are soaked in desperation, fingers twisting his hair painfully and lips feeling sensitive. Your lipsticks are smeared, covering your lower faces. Red gloss and dark lipstick. The combination is messy. Taehyung wipes it off your skin with his lips parted in a breathy moan and his half-lidded eyes making the hottest love to you.

“Sorry for making such a mess”, he rasps.

“I’m not”, you answer him, pulling him back into the kiss. Taehyung growls, parting his lips for your hungry tongue. He has a million scents in his nose and yet there is one which is as clear as day to him. Your desperation. You smell so fucking wet that Taehyung can taste it each time he gasps for air and it drives him insane.

He lifts his knee, your legs part for it instinctively. The kiss breaks as he pushes against your middle, your voice trembles in a gasped moan. You look up at him, surprised and droopy.

Taehyung curls his lips into a smirk, guiding your hips only for you to beat him to it and doing it all on your own. Smooth, needy rolls to the sound of the music. Your right hand slips from his hair, pressing against his crotch.

“Darling”, Taehyung gasps, stumbling for just a second. Your palm finds his cock instantly, rubbing his tip over the fabric of his pants. The pressure is intense, you are trying to make up for the thick leather dulling your touch. Taehyung feels weak because of it, licking into your mouth before actually kissing you. Tongue against tongue, needy sucks on them, pulsating lips and desperate movements.

You are getting off on each other, blind to anyone around you and hungry for one thing. The other’s pleasure.

The kiss breaks, Taehyung presses his lips against your neck.

“I should have fucked you before we left. I can’t think of anything else”, he rasps, moving his knee over your soaked pussy. He is tensing his muscles, sending electricity through your veins.

“Maybe you should have.”

Taehyung shows his fangs in a playful purr, lowering his eyes at you. 

“You're tempting me”, he rasps. 

“Tae”, you moan, moving your hips on his thigh in sync with your hand rubbing his clothed cock.

Taehyung moans and moves in to kiss you. Except that two glasses appear in your view before that can happen. The magic stops. You look to the side.

“Your drinks”, Jimin says, pushing the glasses against your chests, “do you guys seriously have to do that in the middle of the dance floor?”

You want to curse at him. How dare he ruin this moment for you. Taehyung breaks away, wanting to help you keep your modesty. Not that you acted very modest ten seconds ago.

“We were busy”, Taehyung says, accepting his drink and downing it quickly.

“I could see that.”

“Couldn’t you have waited?”

“And do what? Watch you while you masturbate each other like perverts? We’re here together, remember?”

Taehyung huffs out air in annoyance, glancing at you. Your skin is glowing in a healthy layer of sweat. He knows that it is only there because he got you worked up. You are clutching that glass with shaky fingers, gulping the liquid as if your life depended on it.

Jimin grabs Taehyung’s chin, turning his head to you.

“You’ve got messy”, he says, wetting his thumb to wipe away the messy lipstick. Taehyung feels wobbly because of it. You messed him up so much that such a simple touch by Jimin makes him weak. His skin is oversensitive. Every touch feels like fire.

He feels hands run up his torso and arms close around his waist from behind. There is an empty Cosmopolitan glass in one hand. He lowers himself so you can rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Pay attention to me”, you whisper against his neck, “I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Jimin says something you can’t hear because of the music, but Taehyung seems to understand him well.

“What did he say?” you ask him.

“That he can hear you.”

You lock eyes with Jimin. You expected annoyance, but there was something else too. Something primal and hungry. You break your eyes away, turning your head to kiss Taehyung’s neck.

“So what about it?”

Jimin talks again. Taehyung translates it for you.

“He says that he's not here to watch us have sex.”

“Then he should leave.”

Jimin lowers his eyes darkly. You snicker now that you pissed him off successfully.

“I’m getting another drink. Want something too?” you say.

“Another Cosmopolitan please”, Taehyung says, craning his neck in order to talk to you.

“Coming right up”, you say, leaving him needy and weak headed on the dance floor. You dance your way to the bar, dodging some grabby hands and ignoring too many lame pick up lines. Nobody can woo you as much as Taehyung. Oh, you can’t wait to return to him and continue where you left off.

There are four people in front of you. You don’t mind waiting, moving to the songs and watching the people. Taehyung is dancing with Jimin, having his eyes closed as he enjoys the music. He looks blissed out that way, moving his hips as if he was made to do so and resting his cheek on Jimin’s shoulder. The latter is looking at you, left hand on Taehyung’s hip while his right is hidden between their bodies. One second longer and you figure out why it moves the way it does and why Taehyung looks as blissed out as he does. You gulp, breaking your eyes away from Jimin and Taehyung. There are a few people making out around them. Actually, a few is an understatement. There are many people making out. There is one couple lost in more than a kiss. Right next to the DJ booth. You look away, back at the bar. Only two more people. Back to Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung stopped moving, Jimin took over for him, lips on his neck moving in dirty whispers and dark eyes still glued to you. It is like he wants you to know what he does to Taehyung. As if he wants you to partake in it even with all the distance between you and them. There is another couple. Right next to you. They call your attention for a second. She is kissing his neck. Or maybe not. Oh dear. Oh no. Oh, she is definitely biting him. His neck and her lips are covered in the red essence of her bite. Judging by her desperate grip on his waist and his blissed out expression this is both consensual and an act of utter lust. You sneak a glance at Taehyung. He is dancing again doing so with his head thrown back and his lips parted in a gasp. You know that expression. Fuck. Jimin is goddamn cruel for taking that first high from you. You wanted to be the one giving it to Taehyung.

“Hello.”

You look to your left. A stranger. Blonde hair and blue eyes. A man. He is eyeing your cleavage then your neck. You scrunch your nose up in annoyed disgust.

“I’m here with someone”, you tell him coldly.

“Oh? You are? Well, that’s a shame, I had hoped that a beautiful lady such as yourself would be interested in a conversation.”

“I have to decline.”

“I understand really.”

And despite that he stays next to you. Looking. Staring. Your neck and cleavage. Your neck and cleavage. Your neck. Staring. A step closer. Your cleavage. A step closer. Your neck. 

You move away. Closer to the bar, away from him. 

Your neck. Your cleavage. Back to your neck. He licks his lips. 

“I’m good friends with Yoongi”, you tell him and if he was part of the group you assume him to be part of, he will know to piss off now.

“Okay? Whoever that might be”, he dismisses you.

Well shit. He’s just a normal dude who can’t take a no.

“If you keep bothering me, you’ll find out. Trust me, you don’t want to.”

He laughs, lowering his eyes in what you assume to be flirty playfulness. You turn away from him, grinding your teeth. One more person then you can order and leave. 

“I’m here alone”, the stranger says, leaning in so close that you can smell his breath. Alcohol. 

You move away. 

“I’m not. My boyfriend’s with me. He is really strong.”

“I bet he is. I’m strong too”, he says and flexes his arms. He does have muscles. Which makes you even more scared of him. 

“I bet. It uh, yeah. I bet”, you stutter.

“Yeah right? It’s impressive. Do you want me to show you? I can lift you.”

You dodge his grabby hands by an inch. 

“Please leave me alone. I’ll scream.”

“What? Here? But it’s loud in here, nobody will hear.”

“What?”

“What?” he asks nonchalantly and laughs, “I’m only joking. Don’t you worry, I won’t touch a lovely lady without consent.” 

You laugh because you are scared that if you didn’t, he’d lash out.

It is your turn at the bar. You turn your back to the man, hoping that the attention of the bartender is enough to scare him off. You order, looking at the bartender the entire time and hoping that the creep gets the hint. Unluckily for you, the bartender has to turn away to prepare your drinks and all the other workers are too preoccupied with their orders to pay you any mind. 

“A Cosmopolitan, yeah? You didn’t strike me as a Cosmopolitan kinda girl”, the man’s breath swirls over the back of your neck, forcing your hair to stand up in fright. “I like it.”

You try to stay silent, hoping that ignoring him will make him piss off. 

It doesn’t. Oh it fucking doesn’t.  

He places his hand on your lower back. Every inch of your soul dies at that moment. You feel both hot and cold. Numb and overstimulated in fear. Silenced. You can’t even squeak for help.

“Pretty lady, don’t ignore me. Do you not want to play-”, he doesn’t get to finish his sentence and instead yelps up in pain. And continues. Groaning and moaning and grunting in pain. 

You turn in the right moment to witness Jimin stepping in front of you. He has a deathly grip on the man’s hand, twisting it into an unnatural position.

“Fucking piss off, you ugly fuck”, he growls. 

The man whimpers, gawking at Jimin’s exposed vampire face in horror. 

Jimin pushes the man’s broken hand away. The man flees instantly, clutching his hand and staring in shock. 

Jimin stares him down until he is gone. And only then he turns. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks you, running his eyes over your body.

“No he, uhm. Oh my god”, you get out, almost collapsing on the floor as your knees give up in shock. 

“Hey, careful”, Jimin catches you and lifts you atop a bar stool. He pulls his hands away instantly once you are safely sitting on it. 

“Oh my god, did this really just happen?” you get out. 

Jimin nods his head.

“Oh my god”, you whisper, closing your arms around yourself in a scared hug. 

Jimin watches with his brows furrowing in anger. He tilts your head up with one finger under your chin. The touch is barely there.

“He’s gone now.”

“What if he comes back?” 

“He won’t. Trust me.”

“Oh god”, you press out.

Jimin tightens his jaw.

“Should we take fresh air for a bit?” he offers.

“Yes please.”

“Come on, hold my waist”, he says, lifting his arms until you hug his middle tightly. He places his arm around you, keeping you close. He makes sure that nobody bumps into you by pushing the people around you away, using quite a lot of his true strength for it. They complain but Jimin could care rather little about them.

There is a small park outside just opposite of the club. Truly it is nothing more than two benches, a patch of grass and one tree under which a seesaw is standing. The benches are occupied, but that doesn’t stop Jimin from walking up to one of them.

“Bugger off, it’s our spot”, he hisses at the two drunk guys who were lost in conversation before.

They both stand up, towering over Jimin by a head.

“You wanna say that again?” one of them challenges.

“Fuck off. You’re at our spot”, Jimin hisses and pushes him so strongly he leaps through the air only to fall on the ground a good ten feet from you.

“Bro, what the fuck?” his friend gasps, “take the bench. The fuck’s your problem? Hey Mike, are you okay man?”

The two guys run away, never to be seen again. Jimin sits down with you, keeping his arm on the backrest behind you.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Shaken up, but I guess that I expected it. Fucking sad, isn’t it? That I have to expect shit like that when going literally anywhere.”

Jimin furrows his brows in anger.

“Thank you seriously. It’s so scary to be a woman sometimes.”

“Don’t mention it. I get it.”

“No it’s true. I gave him signs multiple times and he kept trying.”

“Yeah, those people are wrong in the head. They ignore cues for their selfish pursuit.”

You nod your head, balling your hands to fists.

“Sometimes I wish that people like that die painfully”, you confess in a whisper.

Jimin studies your side profile. He didn’t expect such a confession from you.

“Fuck, sorry. Why did I say that? Of course I don’t wish death on people”, you correct yourself, lowering your eyes, “sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it”, he assures you.

You let out a trembling breath, sagging your shoulders.

“Hey. Don’t worry, he’s not gonna come back”, Jimin says.

You sneak a glance at him, feeling your eyes drift behind him. You gulp. Jimin turns around. The creep from before is standing at the edge of the park, staring at you. His shirt is wrapped around his broken hand. He clearly hadn’t seen you, which would explain why he turns and then runs the other way.

“Fucking asshole”, Jimin mumbles under his breath, “stay here. I’ll be back”, he says and disappears.

“What?”

You are all alone again. Taehyung is busy dancing in the club and Jimin is gone. It all happened so fast. The harassment, Jimin breaking the criminal’s hand and him disappearing. Did this really just happen? 

“Hey.”

You flinch, eyes flitting to your side.

Jimin is back. 

“Where were you?”

“Just somewhere”, he says, sitting down next to you. He leans back, stretching his legs out. Then he lets his head fall back, pressing out a breathy “fuck.” His chest heaves up and down in heavy pants.

“Jimin, your mouth”, you gasp, staring at the deep red stain on the left corner of his lips.

“What?” he touches it, “oh that. Don’t mind it”, he dismisses you, wiping it away.

“Was that blood? What did you do? Who did you bite?”

“He had it coming.”

“He?”

Jimin runs his eyes up and down your body. 

“What?” he hisses, “he was a fucking sexual predator. Do you think that I’ll let scum like him live? You said so yourself that people like that should die painfully.”

“You-”, you gulp, “what did you do?”

“He won’t be able to hurt anyone from now on. I made sure of that.”

“Jimin, oh my god.”

“Fuck, you’re such a prude cunt. I did it for you, just saying”, he spits and tries to get up to leave. 

“Hey”, you grab his hand, pulling him back to you.

He falls back on the bench, looking at you with slight annoyance in his eyes. 

“Thank you”, you say.

Jimin’s gaze brushes over your lips before he looks away. He slips down on the bench until he can rest his head on the edge of the backrest, folding his hands in front of his tummy.

“Don’t mention it”, he says nonchalantly.

You slip down as well, mirroring his position. He sneaks a glance at you to check but soon returns to looking at the sky. The tree is unmoving except for the occasional faint breeze of air making the uppermost branches shake. The music of the club is quiet in your ears, filling the air with slight vibrations. The night is peaceful.

“Should we go back to Tae?” you ask into the silence.

“No, he’s busy. Trust me.”

“Busy?”

“Yeah. Cleaning up.”

“I saw.”

Jimin smirks victoriously.

“Good.”

You don’t know how to answer that and so you stay silent, staring at the sky. So you were right. Jimin stole that very first high from him.

“Shouldn’t we still check up on him?”

“Let’s just sit here for a moment.”

“Okay.”

“Fuck”, Jimin presses out, throwing his arm over his eyes, “fucking hell.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, something’s up.”

“The creep took something. It’s tripping me out.”

“What? Are you okay? Do you need help?” you gasp, straightening up.

“Relax”, Jimin pushes you back down with his hot hand on your tummy, “I like it. Just what I wanted.”

“Oh okay”, you relax, “uhm, that’s good then.”

“Yeah, it’s good”, Jimin says, retreating his hand. He leaves behind a cold shiver. His touch was so hot in contact and now it’s gone. The chilly night air feels so real on your skin. You place your hand on the spot he touched in hopes of cancelling it out. It works partially.

“Fuck”, Jimin presses out, “do you think Tae’s hooking up with strangers?”

“That’s so random. Why would you think that?”

“Cause he always does that. Whenever we go out, he makes out with strangers. Why’s he always with other people?”

You sneak a glance at him. He has his eyes closed but looks upset.

“I thought we’re here together. Why’s he such a fucking whore?” he says.

“But I thought that you guys are both really chill about sex with others.” 

“No.”

“I see. But you guys aren’t really a couple, are you?”

“Does it matter?” he hisses. 

“No, I guess it doesn’t”, you tilt your head to the side, “shouldn’t we go inside? What if he’s looking for us? I don’t think that he wants to meet strangers tonight. You’re just paranoid and are imagining things. You literally just made him cum. What more proof do you need?”

“No. I don’t want to check.”

You study his face, “are you scared that you’re right and he’s making out with someone? Is that why you don’t wanna leave here?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin hisses, avoiding eye contact which lets you know that it is exactly like that.

“I guess not. I don’t know.”

Jimin nods his head and takes a deep breath. You lean back on the bench. Sitting here for a few more moments does feel nice. The air was really stuffy in the club, so the fresh night air feels like a treat. You are positive that Jimin was wrong about Taehyung and that once you go inside again, you will find him dancing alone.

“Stupid shitshow”, Jimin murmurs, sitting up with an exhausted sigh. He tangles his hands between his spread legs, resting his elbows on his knees, “and you? Do you like it when he does it?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I think as long as he doesn’t make me feel as if I’m replaceable, I don’t mind. Besides, I’m with Yoongi and Kook as well. I’m the same.”

“I guess”, Jimin glances at you, “seriously, how the fuck did you and Yoongi happen? I thought you hated each other.”

“We did. For a while. Then it kind of clicked.”

“It clicked? Really? With Yoongi? How?”

“Why not? He’s so easy to fall in love with.”

Jimin snorts, “is he really?”

You sit up.

“Yes he is. Stop being a cunt. Yoongi means a lot to me and he is so loveable. Don’t talk bad about him”, you warn, making yourself bigger. 

Jimin chuckles in amusement. 

“I’m not saying anything”, he lifts his hands in defeat. 

“Tch”, you let out and click your tongue. 

Jimin studies your face with a victorious grin. It earns him a look from you. He chuckles lazily, letting himself fall back against the bench. He put his hands behind his head, looking up at the sky.

“It’s good”, he says.

“The drugs?”

“No. That you and Yoongi are a thing now.”

“Really?” you scoff, “don’t tell me that you’re happy for me.”

“Course not, I couldn’t care less about you.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m happy because that means that you’re not always stuck to Tae”, Jimin glances at you, “you piss me off when you are.”

You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue, “you’re so jealous, it’s unbelievable.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“No of course not. Not you”, sarcasm drips from your voice. You scoot closer to Jimin, nudging his knee, “loose up a little. Tae’s not gonna leave you and he’s also not making out with strangers right now. You’re just a paranoid, jealous idiot.”

Jimin tenses his jaw.

You shrug your shoulders, “I’m telling the truth. Take it or leave it.”

“Hah”, he scoffs, looking away, “you’re so annoying.”

“Thanks. You’re annoying too.”

He chuckles, glancing at you with friendly eyes. You give him a little grin.

Jimin gets to his feet then, stretching his arms above his head. He whispers a curse.

“I’m so high”, he says and laughs. Then he struts to the seesaw. There is a guy sitting on it. You watch Jimin pick him up by his clothes like a mother cat would its litter, except that Jimin then proceeds to throw the man a good ten feet to the side. The man stumbles to his feet and runs away in horror. Jimin plops down on the now empty seat nonchalantly, locking eyes with you and cracking you up with it. Jimin stares for only a few seconds and then your drunk giggles crack him up as well, eyes turning into crescent moons from how deeply he laughs.

You get up and hurry to him, claiming the other side. You are still laughing. Jimin does too.

“I can’t believe you just threw this man”, you snicker.

“He had it coming”, Jimin says in a chuckle and moves the seesaw.

You squeak, clutching the handle tightly.

“Warn me, oh my god”, you gasp, making Jimin laugh.

“I thought you were ready.”

“Well, I wasn’t”, you say in a laugh, having to squeak out a giggle when the movement of Jimin’s side hitting the ground makes you bounce.

Jimin pushes himself off again. Your side hits the ground. He bounces and laughs, almost falling off if he hadn’t closed his legs tightly.

And so it happens that you are rocking on a seesaw with him, laughing like children and having way too much fun for your own good. Time feels nicely spend. You genuinely enjoy his company. You really do. Jimin seems to reciprocate the feelings, throwing his head back in laughter each time he bounces in the air. You have never seen him like that before. Carefree and happy. Maybe it’s the drugs. You don’t really want to look for the reason however. He is so much more likable when he is like that.

Your play soon comes to a stop however when Jimin loses balance and falls off when he is the highest.

“Jimin! Oh god, are you okay?!” you gasp, tumbling off the seesaw as well.

He groans, rolling onto his back.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

“Fuck, that was fucking hilarious”, he says, cackling loudly.

His laughter is enough to assure you that everything was okay and so you laugh as well, rolling onto your back.

Jimin turns his head, locking eyes with you. His smile fades out, making you do the same because it felt like the right thing to do. Silence. The air feels heavy, but not uncomfortable. Jimin props himself up and crawls to you, letting himself plop down once you are close enough that your faces are just shoulder-length wide apart.

“That was fun”, he says in a whisper.

“Yeah it was”, you agree, looking everywhere but his lips. You can’t accept the truth behind that look. You won’t.

Jimin can.

“I’m glad that we ran into each other”, he confesses.

“What?” you breathe.

Jimin needs a second to process what he just said, widening his eyes once he does. He turns his head away, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I’m so high”, he says, throwing his arm over his eyes, “fuck.”

You look away, focusing on the tree above your heads with obsessed precision. He is trying to find stupid excuses for his slip of words. Holy fuck.

“I think that I should go back”, you say, sitting up.

Jimin lets you, staring at you with a flustered expression.

“Yeah”, he says.

You stand up, patting your butt clean from the bark mulch.

“Are you, uhm, gonna stay here?”

“I guess.”

“Okay. See you later.”

“Yeah.”

You turn and run back to the club. This can’t be happening. Nope. You are not feeling attracted to Park Jimin. Nope this is not happening.

The air in the club reeks of alcohol and sweaty bodies. You try to look for Taehyung, but can’t find him. He is lost in the crowd. You swerve to the toilets, feeling the strong urge to be alone.

Thankfully all of the three stalls are empty. You hide away in the first one, locking the door. You close the toilet seat to sit down on it afterwards. Your face falls into your hands. What is genuinely in the air tonight? You can’t be attracted to Jimin. Not him. Everyone but him.

It must be alcohol, the situation, the location. Not him. It must have been everything else. Yes. Everything else. The night is filled with tension and it would have happened with anyone you met.

You lift your head from your hands, knowing deep down that you just lied to yourself, but you don’t want to dwell on that thought for too long. It was just the tension in the air, not because Jimin is messing with your head. Yes. It was just the air. Nothing else.

“I have to find Tae”, you decide, “he’ll help me come to my senses. Yes, that’s what I have to do.”

And with that silly excuse of a plan you decide to leave the stall.

“Ah!” you yelp, stumbling back when someone is right in front of it, waiting for you. “Jimin, oh my god you just scared the living shit out of me.”

He is standing right in front of your stall, staring at you with dark eyes.

“Good thing we’re in a toilet then”, he says, making you laugh.  

He doesn’t laugh. He just stares.

You push yourself past him to wash your hands.

“What are you doing here? You’re aware that that’s the lady’s room, aren’t you?”

Jimin watches you with piercing eyes. You dry your hands, turning to him when he doesn’t say anything.

“What are you doing? Did you just come here to stare?” you ask him.

Jimin moves in so close that you have to crane your neck to look at him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

Jimin moves in just enough that his nose brushes over your skin and his lips are almost touching yours. You feel lightheaded, gawking at him with widened eyes. And yet you can’t pull away, something keeps you locked on him.

“Push me away”, whispers in a rasp.

“What?”

“Push me away”, he repeats, eyes flitting to your lips.

You know what he wants to say with that. Push me away and I won’t do it. Push me away and this never happened.

You can’t move away, eyes finally flitting to his lips.

The truth has been spoken and Jimin knows what to do. He cups your face and pulls you into a kiss, making your knees buckle because of it.

You break it with your hands pushing at his chest.

Jimin pulls you closer again, chasing your lips. But you move away, hands cupping his face just so you can tilt his head up. Your heart is racing like crazy.

“I don’t know if we can do that” you lie.

“Oh come on. Stop pretending as if you’re not feeling it as well.”

“Feeling what?”

Jimin pulls you into the kiss, pushing at you gently to get you to move.

Your knees buckle, you claw at his shirt, stumble back until your back hits the door. Somewhere far away you hear him lock it. His knee claims the emptiness between your legs to press right against your barely clothed pussy. You break the kiss just so you could gasp. 

“This”, he rasps, “you smell so fucking needy”, Jimin growls, chasing you with his puffy lips parted and his eyes glued to your mouth. He grips your hips with one hand, guiding them over his muscular thigh. He doesn’t miss one beat, making your hips dance to the music outside.

“O-oh god”, you stutter.

He kisses you as an answer, fingers twisting a bundle of your hair at the nape of your neck and tongue chasing the taste of your kiss. He fucking loves the way you taste – he has done so ever since he drank you blood in the practice room – he loves it so much, sucking on your lips with gluttony in his movements. 

You writhe, gripping his corseted waist to pull him closer. You blame the booze and the setting. You shouldn’t be so sickeningly attracted to Jimin and yet at this moment, you are. Everything about him. The way he is dressed tonight, the way he moved on the dance floor and laughed with you outside. How he couldn’t stop letting his eyes run over your body when he touched Taehyung and how you couldn’t stop looking at him. Jimin is right. You’re so fucking into him right now.

You grab him and force him to turn. The kiss breaks as Jimin lets out a throaty chuckle, back colliding with the door and head tilting back to reveal his thick neck to your eyes. His black hair is ruffled, hanging into his face in messy strands. His makeup is smudged from the intense kiss.

“Fuck, you’re hot”, he rasps.

“Shut up”, you spit, pulling him into a passionate kiss. 

Jimin moans, forcing your pussy back onto his thigh. His foot is propped up on the door, his thigh muscles are tensing in this position, feeling hard and rough against your pussy. The friction is maddeningly good, keeping you wanting more and more. You try not to think about it for too long. No thoughts. Not one thought. Just sensations. Messy hands, sloppy kisses, sculpted thighs, hungry moans. No thoughts, just sensations. If you start thinking, you will realise what the fuck you are doing right now and then it will start haunting you.

Jimin pushes himself off the door and picks you up from the floor just to bounce you in his arms twice. You wrap your legs around his middle, twisting his hair. The friction against your pussy feels so fucking good. You are messing up his clothes with your pleasure because of it. Wet and slick. Hot and sticky. So fucking sweet, Jimin thinks as he smells it, so goddamn fucking sweet. His hands slip under your shirt, forcing the material to punch up until it exposes your lower back fully. The kiss doesn’t break, on the contrary, Jimin tangles his tongue with you, moaning with his whole chest as he stumbles to the sink. 

“Ah, what”, you gasp, squirming when he sits you down on the wet, cold surface. 

“Say it”, he rasps, tugging you against his torso. Your pussy grinds against his corset like this. The leather feels sticky against your pants.

“Say what?” 

“Say that you don’t want this.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m gonna fuck you against this sink until you’re sobbing.”

You moan without wanting to, fingers hooking in his belt to open the clasp. Jimin understands, hooking his finger in it to rip it off his body. The ruined piece of leather gets dropped on the floor. 

“That was Tae’s belt.” 

“I’ll buy him a new one”, Jimin dismisses you, hooking his fingers in your pants, “one last chance.”

“Do it. Less talking.”

Jimin undresses you hastily. Your pants are around your ankles. He hooks his fingers in your panties and rips the fabric easily, putting the ruined panties into his pants pocket.

“For Tae”, he says and smirks when this makes you squirm, “I bet he’d rub one off to it.”

“You are both insane.”

“Thank you”, he rasps and takes his cock out, pulling you closer by the small of your back. Once he is happy with how close you are, he grabs the nape of your neck, forcing you to keep up eye contact as he begins rubbing his cock against your clit. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The friction is better than anything.

“Fuck”, you let out, chasing him with a roll of your hips. He feels so cold against your burning skin, making you crave more just so you can warm him up.

Jimin growls and kisses you, tongue chasing you instantly. He is really fucking into this. You’ve been messing with him for too long. Jimin thinks that it started way back when hadn’t died yet. Till this day he sometimes thinks about the kiss you shared in the alleyway as you were chased by granny vampire. He knows that you only did so as a cover up, but Jimin still can’t stop thinking about it. Just as he can’t stop thinking about the way you touched his mark that night. Your touch lingers on his skin even long after you stopped feeling him up. Maybe it’s because you are the prey he could never truly have, but Jimin can’t take it anymore. He has to have you. 

He pushes inside, breaking the kiss.

“Fuck”, he hisses, shivering upon being engulfed by your hot cunt. You’re better than he imagined you to be. Wet, hot, soft, tight. No wonder Taehyung can’t get enough of you. Your cunt’s like heaven. Jimin chases the sensation with a confident thrust of his hips, forcing more of him inside your soaked pussy.

You mewl, squirming against him.

“Too much?” he asks. 

“N-no”, you croak, “fuck”, you gasp, arching your back eventhough your pride is hating you for it.

“Shit”, he lets his saliva drip from his lips, “I want you”, he growls darkly and tugs your shirt and bra to the side just to cup your right breast and lean down to suck gluttonous hickeys on the flesh.

“Fuck, Jimin”, you gasp, arching into his touch with too much vigour.

Jimin growls. He is not gentle. He sucks hard and bites even harder. His grip is strong, punishing even. All while his cock is making your pussy wet and throb around it. He begins chasing the feeling, hips slamming into you to the hard beat of the music.

“I fucking want you”, Jimin growls, “you should be mine. Since the beginning. You should have been fucking mine.”

He curses and bruises your skin as he sucks on your tits. 

“Ah!” you squeak, meeting him with desperate squirms. This isn’t intelligent fucking. This is raw, stupid fucking between two people who know that once the thinking starts, it will feel wrong and therefore the fucks needs to be hard and fast. No thinking, just fucking. Desperate, greedy fucking. 

You twist his hair, scratch down the back of his neck, arch into him. Your pussy is making the wettest sound mixing with Jimin’s excessive slurping and the slap of his skin connecting with yours. 

“Fucking mine. You were mine. All mine”, his voice is dripping in gluttony, his hips are punishing. Almost as if they wanted to punish you for choosing Taehyung over him all those months ago. 

And he does. Right now, with your pussy creaming his cock and your skin bruising for him, Jimin wants to punish you. You were supposed to be their food. Their newest prey. And what did you turn into? Taehyung’s lover and Jimin’s biggest rival for his heart. And now he has you where he wants you to. Alone, weak and turned complacent by cock. Jimin finally got you. The prey he could never have. And he is fucking gluttonous for you.

Jimin moans, releasing your pulsating nipple. It is so fucking sensitive that you spill tears now that it is aching in the cold air each time he abandons it in sake for the other. You whimper when he bites down especially hard, scratching down the back of his neck because nothing else could help.

The pain of it forces Jimin to break away. He lets the saliva break and looks at you with eyes dark and half lidded. Black veins are spanning down his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, thrusts becoming harder now that he has you pulsating around him, “feel good?”

“Y-yeah”, you stutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you grasp the edge of the sink. You are getting fucked on a sink and with your clothes ripped to shreds. Holy fucking fuck, this is actually happening.

“Of course you do, I fuck like a fucking king”, he growls and wraps his hand around your throat.

“Ah!” you gasp, throwing your head back, “oh god.”

His eyes lower darkly as he watches the pleasure wash over your face. His fingers tighten on your throat, cutting off your blood and making you gasp for air. 

Your head pounds, breathing is really fucking hard. Panic. It gets you off to panic. You hate that it does. You squeak and gawk at him, hitting his chest as you fight for air. 

“Why are you so hot?” he spits, chasing you with harsh thrusts, “what’s fucking wrong with you?” he growls, deepening his grip, “you’re not supposed to be so fucking hot, you fucking- urgh fuck, why do you keep occupying my mind? Huh?”

He punishes you with a harsh thrust, forcing your back to hit the mirror. He tilts your head back, making you squeak for air. 

“Why do I want you so fucking bad?”

“Jimin”, you croak, hitting him harder.

“What do you want?”

 “Air.”

“Air?” he laughs maniacally, “why should I give you air? I should fucking kill you for messing with me.”

“Please”, you squeak.

“Fuck, you’re weak”, Jimin spits, releasing your neck. 

You gasp loudly, arching your back as life returns to you. Holy fucking shit, you feel high. 

“That's it, keep fighting. You’re so annoying, no matter what I try you'll always come back won’t you?” Jimin growls and grabs you just to sink you back down on his cock, pulling you into a rough kiss as he does. You can’t help but moan into his mouth, tightening your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You fuck yourself on his cock, meeting his movements sloppily and desperately. 

He grunts, bottoming out over and over and over again as he shows you just how good he can fuck. In and out, in and out, in and out. He makes sure to show your pussy who makes her fucking weep right now. 

The kiss breaks just enough for him to speak. “That’s it. Pull me closer like the greedy, little slut you are”, his words make you spiral, the kiss which follows steals your breath.

You have to give it to him. This is a lot more enjoyable than you thought sex with him to be. He is so much deeper than you thought he would be, using the melodies of outside to bounce you even better on his thick cock. His pubic bone rubs against your clit with every bounce whilst his once busy fingers grip your hips, making your toes curl.

“Jimin”, you whimper against his lips, voice pitched.

He raises his head, locking his eyes with you.

“Yes ___?” he rasps, voice heavy in arousal.

“F-feels good”, you say, despite the embarrassment you are feeling in an instant. Look at you. You are getting fucked by Park fucking Jimin, trembling on a sink in a public bathroom. 

“Yeah? Tell me how good my cock makes you feel”, he growls, angling his hips differently. He soaks up the way your face scrunches up in pleasure. “Tell me”, he orders, repeating what he had done before, “tell me how good that feels. Tell me. Fucking tell me.”

You still don’t completely like Jimin. Mostly because he is a self-obsessed dick. Yeah he is Taehyung’s best friend and he did redeem himself by dying or whatever, but you can’t particularly stand him. This right now however? Feels otherworldly. It is rough, angry and with enough danger that it gets you off. Exactly how you fucking like it.

“Good”, you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders, “so good. Oh god.”

“I knew it”, he smirks, “I fucking knew it. Such a slut, you’re such a slut”, he growls and moans, burying his face in the crook of your neck just so he can kiss you sloppily.

You wail loudly, clawing at his back as your pussy feels in paradise. His neck kisses are so rough, bordering painful to the point where you feel dizzy. Oh so dizzy. So fucking dizzy. Holy shit, you can’t breathe. Oh god you you’re so dizzy. 

Jimin thrusts his thick cock against your sensitive spot and sucks on your neck. 

“Jimi-”, you squeak out and cum. 

Hot. Rough. Aggressive. Forced. 

Jimin forces the hardest, most insane orgasm out of your trembling body, fucking into your pulsating cunt with angry, harsh thrusts. 

You hate that you are wailing and moaning and sobbing for him, but you can’t help it. He is so fast and strong, letting his powers control him, and that type of fuck feels so fucking good. 

Jimin growls against your neck, sucking harder and hungrier the more you scream and orgasm. 

You think that you are doing it a second time. You can’t tell as the first one never really died down and only got stronger. You blame the hot feeling of his cum shooting up your pussy for it. He fucks it out of you just as he is fucking it right back into you, moaning against your neck and slamming his fist into the mirror right beside your head just so he doesn’t break you. It shatters on impact, leaving deep imprints on Jimin’s ivory skin. 

He pulls his hands out of the shards, gripping you by the side of your neck just to tilt your head back. Fuck, his knuckles hurt. It’s better than hurting you though. Jimin thinks it is. He hates that he does, but it’s true. He cares for you enough that he doesn’t want to actually hurt you. Look at him. Goddamn fucking hell. He is cumming because of you. Fucking hell.

“Fuck”, he presses out, panting heavily. His hips slow down, staying snug against you so your pussy was still filled with his cock. He is rocking into you slowly, riding out your highs in lazy gluttony. He could go again. He could bury himself into you over and over again until you are drained. His body demands it. Every fiber aches for more. 

Jimin grunts and fights for air, gripping the edge of the sink as he forces his hips to stay calm. His instincts want to kick in. Jimin inhales deeply, shuddering. He tells them to calm down, to stop being a fucking Glutton for once. 

You feel so fucking dizzy and lightheaded, holding onto bundles of his hair as your only support. Breathing is difficult for you, your neck hurts from his kisses. You are also pretty sure that you can feel your pulse in your pussy. 

Jimin tilts his head, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cheek. You are so tired that you let it happen. He flicks it and purrs deeply. 

“You fucking cried”, he rasps, “they taste so good”, he adds and connects his lips with your cheek, kissing it softly. 

The gesture leaves you confused and flustered. 

Jimin lifts his head, eyes flitting to your neck.

“I”, he blinks as if he was surprised, fingers touching his lips, “I didn’t”, he whispers.

“What?” you ask, touching your neck, “ah? Ouch, it hurts. What did you do?”

You push him away, pulling your shirt back into place and turning to look into the shattered mirror. 

“You bit me!”

“I didn’t mean to”, he says, shaking his head, “it’s because you turned me on, I didn’t mean to”, he says, cupping your cheeks, “I didn’t mean to, seriously.”

“Why would you bite me? Oh my god, it’s bleeding so much”, you say, pressing your hand to your neck as tightly as possible.

“I didn’t mean to. Your neck was so close and you smelled so good a-and my, my fangs brushed it. It was an accident”, he insists, “hey stop. Stop wiggling.”

“It hurts.”

“Here uhm, here”, he keeps you hostage by pressing his body between your legs, forcing your head to turn back to him with two fingers under your chin. He bites his own wrist and offers it to you, “drink.”

“What? No, why should I drink your blood?” you say, shaking your head vigorously.

“You’re bleeding.”

“So? I don’t want to drink your blood.”

“Do it, you don’t want Tae to worry, do you?” He pushes his wrist closer to your lips, “drink.”

“No, fuck off.”

“Drink please. I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna bite you."

“Put your wrist away, I don’t want to drink your blood.”

“Drink.”

“No. You’re a Glutton.”

“So? Then don’t die. Easy”, Jimin says and lifts his wrist, “drink.”

“No.”

“I will rip that ring off your finger and force you if you don’t follow. Drink.”

“Why are you like this? I told you no, didn’t I?”

“Drink!” he growls and then presses his wrist against your lips

“Mmgm”, you let out in surprise, widening your eyes when that familiar burn of blood is scraping down your throat. You wiggle and squirm, but Jimin keeps you on him until your wound is healed. Then he pulls you off of him with his hand in your hair.

You cough, holding your throat because it burns like crazy.

“Better”, he says and presses you closer to the sink, “now stay”, he says and turns the water on and with the help of his hand in your hair, cleans off your neck.

“Why did you do that?” you choke out.

“Tae can’t know about this. Do you hear me? It, it never happened”, he stutters as he washes your neck roughly.

“Ah Jimin. Stop being so rough.”

“Stay still. I’ve got to clean you up.”

“We could have thought of something. Why did you force me?”

“What could we have done? This was the only way”, he insists, avoiding eye contact.

“You are so fucking awful sometimes. I’m telling Tae, I’m serious. What if I die? He needs to know.”

“Don’t tell him, I didn’t mean to bite you”, he says, tugging your pants back up.

“So? He still needs to know. I’m in danger now”, you say, letting out a little whimper.

Jimin stares at you in shock. He gawks, fingers on your pants stilling.

“It was an accident, I already said that I’m sorry. Don’t tell him”, he says in a shaky voice, avoiding eye contact. He tugs you closer to the wall, keeping you sitting on the sink with his hips against yours. He dries off your skin with some paper towels, holding you by the back of your head to stop you from wiggling away. He dries your tears as well, avoiding your eye contact at all cost.

“Why not? He needs to know. You just- oh my fucking god, I have your blood in my system. Oh my god, Jimin why did you have to do that?”

“Don’t tell him, please.”

“No. You hurt me.”

“Fine. Then tell him”,  he interrupts you, stepping so close you can smell his blood soaked breath swirl over your face, “go on tell him that I drank your blood without permission. Tell him and see what this does” he hisses, sending you a dark look, “you think he’d still want me here? No. I’d have to leave and you’d be the reason why his heart is broken again. You will be the reason why he loses his best friend again. All because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. So go on, tell him.”

You feel your stomach twist in disgust. Of course he would resort to blackmail at some point. Why did you think that someone like him could change? You look away, not bearing to see him any second longer. Maybe if you would have, you would have noticed the immense guilt and regret washing over his face and staying there with the intention of lingering for the rest of the night.

Jimin clicks his tongue and places his jacket around your shoulders and then steps back, “let’s leave. I’m sure Tae’s already wondering where we went off to.”

He intertwines his fingers with yours and tugs you outside. The air is stuffy, the hallways are dark, you collide with too many people until finally the dance floor with its flashing lights and bright smoke is revealing itself to your eyes. You barely take in any of it, getting dragged down further and further into the horrifying panic you are feeling.

You have Glutton blood inside of you. And you can’t even tell your love because it would break his heart. You are so scared. Feel so guilty. You can barely handle the burn in your stomach.

That is where you meet Taehyung. He is standing by the bar, looking worried until he meets your eyes and the worry gets replaced by relief. With a big grin on his lips, he makes his way to you, welcoming you back by grabbing your hips and pulling you snug against his hips.

“Where were you?” he calls over the loud music, “I was worried about you. I looked everywhere for you.”

“I,I”, you stutter, feeling sick to the stomach. Should you tell him? Should you be honest? Should you tell him that you were just bitten by Jimin in the bathroom only to get his cursed blood in your system? Taehyung looks at you with such sparkly eyes that your silence makes you feel sick.

He moves closer and furrows his brows.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Taehyung I just-”

“She was with me”, Jimin throws in, draping his arm over your shoulder so roughly you know that this is his warning to stay quiet. He even slams his chest into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. To Taehyung it looks like drunk stumbling however.

“With you?” Taehyung lifts his brows. He studies Jimin’s face, then yours and Jimin’s jacket on your shoulders, “oh dear”, he seems to realise. A big smile washes over his face. “Finally”, he says and giggles excitedly, “oh, I was hoping that the two of you would fuck”, he says and massages your hips tightly, “darling, we need to have a threesome very soon. I promise you, we are such fun.”

You are so overwhelmed. By everything. The secret. The fact that Jimin just bit you. The fact that you could turn into a Glutton in the next three days. The surprise that Taehyung wanted you and Jimin to fuck. And that he is asking for a threesome as if he practically waited for the day you would cave in. And you don’t blame him, because he didn’t fuck up, you did.

He pulls you closer, holding you with his big hands on your back. His lips are on your neck instantly, nibbling and sucking on the spots where mere seconds ago Jimin had bit you. The deep moan rumbling in his chest lets you know that Taehyung suspects nothing.

“You smell so sweet”, he rasps, “darling, a good fuck always makes you smell so good”, he lulls and purrs. His hands dance down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze, “is that right? Did Jimin fuck you good? Mhm?”

“I, I can’t breathe”, you choke out.

“What’s the matter?”

You push yourself away and then stumble to the exit. You have to get out of here. You are being eaten up alive by your emotions. You can’t breathe. Your eyes burn. Air. Please someone give you air. Please help.

You collide with someone outside. You can’t see them, stumbling past them without acknowledging their presence.

“Darling!” you hear Taehyung’s voice somewhere far away.

Holy shit, what have you done? Why did you drink Jimin’s blood? You could be a Glutton soon. You could actually turn into a Glutton. You just gave the curse roots in your body.

You collide with the ground and then it happens. With a painful convulse, your stomach empties itself. You are retching and gagging, feeling oh so incredibly awful. The blood makes it burn unbearably and yet you can’t stop. It’s spilling out of you, giving you no control over it.

“Darling”, Taehyung kneels down next to you. He places his hand on your back, patting it softly to make it easier for you, “oh darling. Did you drink too much?”

You gag again, convulsing oh so painfully. It burns. Throwing up blood burns just as much as it does when you swallow it. Maybe it burns even more as throwing up hurts on normal days already. It really hurts so much. You cry. It hurts so much.

“Oh no, this must be awful. It’s okay darling, let it all out. I’m here now.”

“Tae”, you sob, wheezing for air, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise darling. It happens to the best of us”, he assures you oh so sweetly, caressing the back of your head, “just don’t fight it. You will feel better afterwards.”

The gagging stops. There is physically nothing inside of you anymore which your body could get rid of. But the tears continue. They stream down your face heavy and hot, ruining your makeup.

You stare at what you had just done. The darkness of the night hides its true colour. It must be black. Black as the blood which is still rooted into your veins.

“Fuck”, you croak, “holy fuck. Taehyung I have to-”

“Here”, Jimin interrupts you, “drink this.”

You turn your head. He forces a bottle of water into your hand. His eyes are dark in warning.

“Yes darling, drink it”, Taehyung says, opening the bottle for you, “drink, it’ll do you good.”

“Yes ___, drink”, Jimin presses out through gritted teeth, lifting his brows in a way that lets you know that right now he is telling you to swallow down whatever you wanted to say and drink that stupid water instead.

You whimper, spilling tears which hardly affect him. Or so you think. The moment you look away, the guilt returns to Jimin’s features.

“Come now, drink”, Taehyung speaks to you in a soft voice, soothing over your hair.

You turn to him. There is no darkness on his face. Just worry.

In an instant, he reaches out to dry your tears, giving you a reassuring smile. 

With shaking fingers you lift the bottle to your lips and begin drinking. The water is cold. As if it was fresh out of the fridge. Jimin must have purchased it in the club. It would be a sweet gesture, if you didn’t know better. He didn’t do this because he was worried and wanted you to feel better. This is part of his plan to make it look as if you were too drunk.

You feel drunk. You know that you aren’t because you didn’t drink a lot tonight. You still feel drunk however. Dizzy, far away and not like yourself. You are aware that this is the panic and guilt playing your body like it’s a game. It’s the worst feeling have you ever experienced.

“Tae, I want to go home”, you press out.

“Of course”, he says and picks you up gently, “come now, relax against me sweetest. I’ve got you.”

He takes two steps with you in his arms when he turns and looks at Jimin.

“Jimin, aren’t you coming?” he asks.

Jimin looks at you, grinds his teeth then looks at Taehyung.

“Sure, I’m already coming”, he grumbles, jogging to catch up with you.

You don’t see the guilty look he sends you, as you are hiding away in Taehyung’s shoulder, soaking his shirt with your guilty tears.  

What have you done?

You aren’t alone when you enter the apartment. The lights are turned on and the television is blasting sounds.

Seokjin is still awake, relaxing with a random movie and a glass of blood. He turns his head even before you could announce yourself. He watches as Taehyung sets you down.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Seokjin is on his feet and by the door instantly. 

You stumble while your eyes are out of focus and your arms seem to tangle weakly. 

“Holy shit, ___. What happened? You look awful.”

“Seokjin I-”

“Nothing happened. She’s just drunk, a total lightweight. She threw up all over the streets”, Jimin says and picks you up after you stumbled again, “I’ve got you”, he says and hurries upstairs. He whispers into your ear when you are far enough away, “stay quiet. Hear me?” 

Seokjin and Taehyung follow you, appearing by Jimin’s side. Jimin lifts his head again, sneaking a suspicious glance at Taehyung.

“Are you sure that she’s alright? She looks like death.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong”, Taehyung says, soothing you by rubbing your back, “maybe someone drugged her drink? I didn’t see.” 

Nobody drugged you. At least not like humans drug other humans. Jimin did. Jimin drugged you with his blood and now one wrong step and you could turn into a Glutton. You aren’t clear in the head because anxiety is quite literally making you feel disorientated. 

“Take her to my room. Right here”, Taehyung tells Jimin, opening his bedroom door.

“Don’t worry my darling, it’s really not far anymore”, Taehyung says with unbearable worry in his voice. 

“Shouldn’t we take her to a hospital? What if it is serious?” Seokjin asks. 

“I thought that I could give her some of my blood if it gets worse.”

He misses the way Jimin looks to the side because of it.

“Tzt”, Seokjin seems displeased, but won’t dwell on it right now for the sake of you. 

But no hospital could help you. No amount of Taehyung’s blood could help you. Your veins were filled with a cursed secret and you were slipping further and further away from reality.

Seokjin is talking to you. Taehyung says something as well. 

You can’t hear them. Well, you hear them but they are far, far away from you. As if you were underwater sinking further and further down into darkness.

Hands are on your body. Someone is talking to you.

You feel hardness hit your back. Maybe this it's the ocean floor. 

Fire. Stinging, unbearable fire. It rains down on you and makes you gasp for air. It burns. It is so hot. It is so loud. Rushing in your ears. 

You can’t stop shivering. Your muscles ache from tensing. Your teeth are sensitive from clattering. 

The fire stops, leaving behind wet skin. 

“I’m sorry”, Taehyung’s voice is clear in your ears again. 

You peel your eyes open, blink in disorientation.

You are in the bathtub, propped up against the wall.

You lift your head. His face is in your vision, pulled into a grimace of utter worry. His shirt and pants are soaked as he is kneeling in front of you with the shower head in his hand

“Are you feeling alright? I’m sorry for doing this to you. I had to get you back to me”, he says.

You look around the room. It’s just the two of you.

“I sent the others away. I had to get you out of your clothes. They were full of sick”, Taehyung brushes his wet thumb over your cheekbones, “did Jimin hurt you?”

“Tae”, you press out and sob. The dam breaks. Like the water once raining down on you, all it took for you to break was his safe presence. 

“He did, didn’t he? Did he force himself onto you?”

You shake your head.

“So what else? Oh my darling, what did he do to you?”

You are hurting oh so much. You want to tell him what happened, but you can’t. You physically can’t bring yourself to speak the words. You would break Taehyung’s heart. That’s what Jimin said. The truth would hurt him and it would be your fault. Solely imagining such a future forces your chest to tighten in anxiety and guilt and for your tears to feel unending.

“N-nothing”, you choke out, shaking your head.

You don’t want to break his heart. You don’t want to lie. Please someone take this burden from you.

“It’s, all too much. It’s too much.”

“Hush, it’s okay. You’re back home now, nothing will hurt you here”, he whispers and picks you up.

He sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and wraps a warm, dry towel around your body. 

His arms engulf you, pressing you against his strong chest. You are still shivering, but at least your muscles ache less.

“You can tell me anything, I promise you that I won’t be angry at you”, Taehyung whispers, kissing the crown of your head repeatedly.

“Tae, I have to-”

“I’ve got some water”, Jimin interrupts you, entering the room right as you were about to confess the secret.

Oh you want to cry. Why is he always interrupting you? You sob louder, hiding away in Taehyung with your trembling fingers barely managing to hold him.

“Put it on my nightstand”, Taehyung’s voice is cold, “did you hurt her? I swear to god if you did something she didn’t consent to, I will make sure you truly die”, he snarls at Jimin.

“I didn’t”, Jimin stumbles back, “I swear. I hate nothing more than sexual predators. You know that. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I sure hope you didn’t or else you can go back to where you came from.”

Jimin closes his mouth, looking at you with panicky eyes.

“I, I didn’t”, he whispers, shaking his head vigorously.

So Jimin was right. Telling Taehyung would ruin their friendship and break his heart. Oh no, Jimin was right. He was right. You can’t tell him. You sob. Why is this happening to you?

“Leave us alone”, Taehyung hisses at Jimin.

“But I can help.”

“No. You’re making it worse. Leave.”

Jimin glances at you. “Fuck”, he presses out and leaves with his stomach twisted in nervousness.

The door closes.

Taehyung turns back to you, squatting down in front of you.

“I’m here, my sweetest”, Taehyung is speaking to you again, soft and full of love, “wrap your arms around me and let’s get you into some clothes”, he speaks softly, picking you up with ease to carry you outside. 

He sets you down on the armchair and squats down before you, keeping his hands on your thigh to make sure your mind stays with him.

“I will take off your towel, is that alright?”

You nod your head wordlessly, sobbing into your hands.

Taehyung takes off your towel so he could pat you dry.

So now you are before him naked and with a sickening secret on your tongue. Never before have you felt more uncomfortable with being bared in front of him. Like this, it feels as if he could see right through your lies. 

Your cheeks burn as new tears spill out of you. Taehyung wipes them away, just as he dries your body carefully. Your legs and feet first, then your torso and arms. And lastly your face. He works carefully around your nose and ears, doing his best not to tug on them in any way.

“There we go, you’re all dry now. Come now, wrap your arms around my neck.” 

You obey. Taehyung lifts you to carry you to bed. 

The door opens just as he manages to pull the blanket over your body. 

Seokjin seems to be back, he has Yoongi and Hoseok following him. Jimin sneaks into the room as well, hovering behind them like a nervous shadow.

“What the hell happened?” Yoongi sounds angry in worry. 

“Why would you bring him?” you hear Taehyung ask. He sounds scared. 

“Because he knows what to do”, Seokjin seems to answer him and then their conversation dies out in your ears.

Yoongi is calling your attention. He is by your side in the blink of an eye, holding your hand, “she’s ice cold. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing, I didn’t do anything”, Taehyung says, voice sounding distorted in guilt, “she was fine until suddenly she couldn’t breathe anymore and seconds later she threw up. I didn’t do anything.”

“Tch”, Yoongi sends Taehyung a dark look then turns to you. He cups your face, runs his thumb over your cheekbone, “princess.”

Your eyes, once restless in anxiety, focus on his face. 

“Yoongi”, you press out, “Yoongi, please don’t let me die.” 

The plead was heavy in your desperation. It was urgent. Oh so urgent. Please don’t let me die and come back a Glutton. Please don’t let me turn into this. 

“Hey, of course not”, he doesn’t know of the grandiosity however, “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Promise me Yoongi, please.”

“I promise you”, Yoongi says and squeezes your hand, “I promise you with all my heart.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know, I can smell it. But don’t be. You are drunk, very drunk so it seems. I can smell the booze, it’s so strong”, you don’t miss the icy glance he sends at Taehyung, “and that state feels awful, but you’ll feel normal again come tomorrow. I promise.”

“Can I? Can I really be Normal?”

“Yes princess. You can be normal, I promise. It’ll pass, I promise.”

“Yoongi please hold me”, you beg, crying heavy tears.

“Come here”, he says, picking you up from bed to cradle you against his chest. He makes sure that you are wrapped in the blanket to cover your bared body from the looks of others, but also to keep you warm. You are shaking like crazy in his arms and you are ice cold.

“Thank you”, you press out and cry into the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay. I’m right here”, Yoongi whispers, turning to leave.

Taehyung steps in front of him. Yoongi stops and scowls.

“Where are you taking her?” Taehyung asks.

“My room, I’m not leaving her with you.”

“But I can take care of her too.”

“No you can’t. You couldn’t even stop her from getting so fucking drunk. You’re a great boyfriend aren’t you? Do you even know how reckless this was? What if she fell and hurt herself or stumbled into a random vampire’s arms and he bit her?”

“Don’t put this on me. I truly monitored how much she was drinking because I didn’t want her to go through something like that. I don’t know what happened, you have to believe me”, Taehyung defends himself.

Yoongi clicks his tongue and bounces you in his arms to fix his grip, “at least you brought her home safely. I’m taking over now.”

“Do you truly trust me that little?”

“I’m taking over now”, Yoongi hisses through gritted teeth, flashing Taehyung his real eyes.

Taehyung stumbles back and closes his mouth, knowing that it was time for him to shut up.

“Okay”, he gets out, “fine. Take over. Fuck”, he hisses then turns to you, touching your back, “I’m so sorry darling, I really didn’t want you to get that drunk.”

“I know.”

“Oh darling”, he says and pouts, “I feel terrible. I’m so sorry that I didn’t take better care of you.” He places his chin on your shoulder even if that makes Yoongi frown and almost move you away from him. “I’m truly so regretful”, he confesses and lowers his forehead to your shoulder, “it won’t happen again, I promise”, he whispers.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault”, you say, speaking the truth. It wasn’t his fault.

He inhales you deeply and shudders.

“Oh darling”, he whispers, “Yoongi is right. The alcohol is overshadowing everything. I can’t smell anything other than alcohol. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay”, you tell him quietly. 

“You should sleep. It’s the best remedy against too much alcohol”, Taehyung says and makes sure you are tugged in safely, “Yoongi is going to stay with you and I’ll be just next door. Nothing can hurt you anymore.”

Yoongi looks at Taehyung one last time. He is so angry, but doesn’t let it show for your sake. He knew that entrusting your wellbeing with him would be a mistake. He never should have trusted him that much. 

“Tch”, he turns his head away and leaves, followed by Seokjin and Hoseok. He makes sure to bump his shoulder with Jimin on the way out with such vigour that the latter stumbles back with a pained groan.

The door falls closed and Taehyung is all alone with Jimin. He turns, touching the side of his neck.

“Fuck”, he presses out, “what happened, Jimin?”

“I, I don’t- listen, Tae, listen I don’t know what happened. Serious.”

Hoseok and Seokjin follow you to Yoongi’s room, watching you shiver in his arms with worry in their chests. Yoongi places you down on his bed, making sure the blanket still covers you and then steps back to get some clothes.

You reach for him when his hand slips from yours but you feel too exhausted to truly hold him close. So Yoongi steps back and makes space for Hoseok and Seokjin.

Seokjin places a glass of water by your bedside table. 

“You should drink this, it will lessen the hangover tomorrow”, he says.

Hoseok places a rubbish bin next to the bed. 

“I learned this trick during my college days. If you need to throw up, just do so in the bin. Works wonders, it really does”, he says and then nudges your shoulder, “hang in there ___, don’t forget to stick out one leg to ground yourself. You’re our strongest soldier tonight, I salute you”, he says and does a big salute, looking oh so adorable doing it.

You give them each a weak smile and watch how they retreat back to Yoongi. They are talking quietly, but you can still hear them.

“She seems to be really drunk”, Hoseok says, “I couldn’t smell drugs on her, just booze.”

“Yeah neither could I. She reeks of booze though, it overshadows everything else”, Yoongi says and looks at you, “fucking Tae and his cunt best friend, I never should have let her go out with them.”

“I’m sure that she appreciates that you are not acting like a controlling boyfriend though”, Seokjin says.

“Yeah, totally. Controlling partners are a huge ick”, Hoseok agrees, “she’s a grown woman and very capable of deciding if she wants to go somewhere or not.”

“Mhm, I know”, Yoongi nods his head, “now leave, I have everything under control.”

“Yeah”, they both nod their heads then send you a reassuring smile.

“Sleep tight, ___”, Seokjin says.

“Yeah and don’t forget to put your leg out of the blanket if you’re too dizzy”, Hoseok says.

You nod your head. They leave seconds later, abandoning you with Yoongi.

You close your eyes and exhale shakily. You feel so defeated. A part of you had hoped that Yoongi would be able to smell that something was off. That something about you carried a burdening scent to you and that he would expose Jimin’s secret that way. If he had, then you wouldn’t have to carry around such a big secret. But Yoongi couldn’t smell anything, because of all the stupid alcohol you consumed tonight. And so you are still left with the terrible secret gnawing at your insides.

You didn’t even realise that you were crying again until you feel Yoongi wipe them away with his healing, always safe touch.

“Don’t cry my princess, I’m here now. You’re safe”, he whispers and with it, calms you down. He calms you down because having him close again reminded you that for as long as you have Yoongi by your side, nothing will hurt you. You won’t die in the next three days because Yoongi will be there to prevent it. Jimin’s curse will leave your body again and you will be able to live on. 

You peel your eyes open, realising that he is kneeling by your side. His face is mere inches away. Looking into his eyes feels like coming home.

“Yoongi”, you croak, seeking refuge by cupping his cheek weakly, “please don’t leave me.”

“Of course I won’t leave you. The fuck you talking about, you drunk baby?” he says and kisses your palm, “I could never leave you. Now come, sit up. I’ll give you one of my shirts.”

“The really comfy one, please.”

“Of course”, he smiles sweetly, moving closer so he could nudge your cheek with his nose, “only the comfiest clothes for my princess”, he whispers, making you giggle because it feels good to be his princess.

[deltaharrington]

BEST FRIENDS?

PAIRING: John B Routledge x Female!Reader

WARNINGS: Small bit of angst, unrequited love, dramatics.

SUMMARY: It hurts you to see John B and Sarah together, and it hurts the Pogues who know about your love for the blonde to see you in pain.

“Somebody help!” You heard, your heart immediately racing at the familiar female voice.

You and the rest of the Pogues rushed to the sound, only to see John B on the ground. He had either fallen or been pushed.

“John B!” You said, about to rush to his aid when Sarah Cameron cradled him close.

You couldn’t deny the jealousy that coursed through your veins, and JJ saw this, pushing you back.

You knew now was not the time for this.

John B had been your best friend since you two were in diapers. Your dads knew each other and we’re best friends, so it was only fair that you two were.

JJ entered and you three became a trio in the third grade. All was well until you made it to middle school.

That’s when you began to realize your feelings for John B were not just platonic.

As the years went on, the more you craved and yearned to be with him. He was perfect for you.

The other Pogues assumed you guys were macking, until Sarah came into the picture.

Earlier that night, John B had brought it up and you and Kie were both shocked. You were more hurt, and JJ knew. Of course he did.

He could always read you like a book. That made you hate him and love him at the same time.

He knew that John B was hurting you. It was only a matter of time before your pot overflowed.

When John B met the Pogues at The Wreck the next day, he was surprised when he didn’t see you.

Regardless, he told the others about his current situation, how he was staying with the Cameron’s and that they finally had a map of Tannyhill.

When you didn’t arrive after an hour, John B became worried. Where had you gone?

“Where’s Y/n?” He asked and JJ sighed, looking towards his friend with a cast.

“She wasn’t feeling too good, she was going to stay home but work called her in.” JJ said with a shrug. In reality, you didn’t want to see John B, you couldn’t face him after the night before.

“I’m gonna go find her” John B said “To make sure she’s okay” He added and JJ tried to stop his friend but John B was intent on finding you.

You worked at the Country Club in Figure 8 part-time as a waitress. Even though you had to deal with Kooks, it paid well, and you gained a lot of tips.

While on your break, a frantic Topper approached you. Knowing what he did to John B, you tried to retreat back inside, but Topper stopped you.

“I didn’t push him” Topper explained and you looked shocked “You have to believe me. I don’t like him, but I’d never-“ He continued but a hand on his shoulder interrupted him.

“Get the fuck away from her, Thornton” John B said, pulling the Kook away from you. Topper pulled his hands upwards in surrender and he backed away.

“I didn’t do it!” He called and you shook your head before turning around to walk back inside, not even acknowledging John B.

“Hey! Hey, where are you going?” He asked and too stopped, turning to face him. God, you wanted to hug him so bad.

As if he could read your mind, he held his arms out to you. You fell into him, soft cries leaving your throat.

“Y/n…why are you crying?” He asked and pulled back enough so that he could see your face. He gently cupped your cheek with his non-broken hand, wiping your tears away.

“You could have fucking died!” You said and he laughed a bit, causing you to hit him on the chest, laughing a bit too.

“I wouldn’t ever leave you.” He said and you swore your heart stopped in your chest.

“Don’t do that, John B.” You said and he looked confused. He was confused. What did you mean?

“Don’t do what?” He questioned and you looked hurt. You were.

“Nothing, I need to get back to work” You said and he nodded his head, a sigh leaving his lips at your mood change.

A few weeks had passed and you distanced yourself from the Pogues. You worked more so that you wouldn’t have to be around John B and Sarah.

It hurt your heart too much. The other Pogues knew, but John B didn’t.

“Why doesn’t Y/n come around anymore?” John B asked and JJ and Kie both looked at each other before him.

“It hurts her too much” JJ said and John B’s head shot up.

“What?” He started, running a hand through his hair “How can hanging out with your best friends hurt?” He asked and Kie huffed.

“She’s in love with you, idiot” She said and John B immediately felt like shit. “She can’t be around you and Sarah and not want to break down…” She added.

“Me and Sarah aren’t even together anymore” John B said and Kie sighed.

“How would she know that?”

“You fumbled” JJ said and got an elbow from Kie “I heard she’s seeing Rafe Cameron now” He added and John B was shocked.

His Y/n wasn’t seeing anyone. Was she?

John B was going to find out.

John B found you at work, Rafe Cameron was perched by the monitor you were cashing people out at.

You laughed at something he said and John B swore he felt his heart clench in his chest. He couldn’t let you be with Rafe.

Fuck, maybe he was in love with you too.

He walked into the club and right up to you, the sight of him making your heart race.

“John B?” You said and Rafe turned to look at the Pogue, glaring.

“What are you doing here?” He asked and John B scoffed, stepping in between the two of you.

“Back off, Cameron” He said “She’s mine” John B said and your heart stopped.

Wasn’t he with Sarah?

Rafe didn’t want to fight John B in the Club so he backed off retreating to his seat.

You had just gotten done with your shift so you moved to put your stuff away and John B waited.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked and you shrugged, nodding.

The wind hit you as soon as you both stepped out of the club. You looked to John B and he looked at you too, stopping at the entrance of the club.

“John B” You said and he smiled.

“Kiss me” He said and you nodded, pulling him close in the collar of his shirt. You both kissed each other with desperation, his hands trailing along your exposed waist.

You smiled when you pulled away, John B doing the same.

“I love you too” He said with a laugh, grabbing your hand to walk you home.

TO BE CONTINUED?

[buckets-and-trees]

UPDATED 11/26/23

In the summer I created a discord server with a "book club" approach to reading and reblogging fanfic for Bucky Barnes. It was a mix of readers and writers - some I knew a bit before the server, some I was getting to know for the very first time. We had weekly themes, a couple of sleepovers, and lots of connections were made across the group.

We're inviting new members for winter!

Our purpose is simple: READ Bucky fics (with an emphasis on works that have been published over the last year), REBLOG them with some commentary, and REVEL in doing that with other book club members.

There will be a new theme each week now through the new year, and fic recommendations will come directly from our members. There's not a quota of reblogs to fill every week to be part of the club, but I AM looking for our book club to have members who generally want to participate - no eternal lurkers. We will be encouraging the highlight works of different lengths (flash fiction, short and long one-shots, and multi-part works) so each member can engage as they have time and energy.

While Bucky fic recs and reading is why we came together, it's only part of what we do - there are areas for pets, plants, memes, general chatter, writing and brainstorming, birthday celebrations, sleepover games, thirst channels, and just general fun to be had all around.

THIS IS A STRICTLY A 20+ SERVER.

The other thing that's vital to me for this book club is the sense of belonging which being part of a group like this can bring, and all of our current members know and understand that and have built a unique culture of genuine connection. Some are active multiple times a day, some we just see a few times a week, but there is commitment to show up and engage to get to know each other. I've been part of two book clubs where I both met strangers that became lifelong friends and got to know people I already knew better by bonding over the reading/discussing/general book club antics/discussions (both ridiculous and heart-to-heart kind). B&N is proving to be a place like that for the membership that have made it what it is now.

So if you read this and you want to join based off what I'm putting down here, please join us.

I feel like this goes without saying, but I'd rather state it outright than have anyone get the wrong idea: this is a Bucky Barnes book club. We will be reading/reccing Bucky Barnes fics only. Additionally, it's gonna be majority x reader. If Bucky x reader is not your jam or on regular rotation, then this will not be the place for you. (And that's okay for us to acknowledge and accept.)

[iamthemain-character]

sit a while

kaz brekker x reader

gender neutral pronouns

TW: just kaz’s trauma

a/n: i binged watched both seasons of S&B over spring break and now this is my hyperfixiation. i’m going to get my hands on the books hopefully this week, but for now i’m just going with the show canon

a/n 2: As an asexual, this is one of my favorite songs and it made me think of kaz so much (i know that he’s not technically asexual but the fact that it would take so much for him to have sex kinda hits home ya know?) so anyways here’s him to this song

Shadow and Bone Masterlist

Depollute me, gentle angel

And I'll feel the sickness less and less

For a very long time, Kaz Brekker had been locked in a room. A room full of memories of a cold harbor, clammy, dead bodies, and the horrors he had to witness, had to survive. His life had been nothing but pain, with little moments of sunshine from The Crows. But still he was haunted, a shell of a man who was trying to pretend he had everything figured out.

But then they had come along, and like an open window in spring, there was a freshness to them, and something in Kaz’s dark soul stirred a little. Terrified, he desperately tried to shut that window again and again, only to find his long-standing walls slowly crumbling. So even as Y/n found their place among The Crows, Kaz did everything in his power to keep them away.

But while Kaz never showed how much he cared on the outside, he found Y/n on his mind constantly. He started to notice the smallest things, not out of a need to be alert, but simply being their existence consumed him. Sometimes he would find small gifts to leave in front of their door. Kaz never let it showed, but his heart would swell whenever he saw Y/n wearing the earrings he had picked out or when they would display their new trinket in their room.

So despite Dirtyhand’s best efforts, Kaz Brekker had formed a special place in his wounded heart for Y/n. And while everything constantly screamed at him that it was a weakness, that it would only bring pain, Kaz couldn’t deny the way he felt when he was around Y/n. So he kept them close, finding reasons to be near them, just so he could bask in the joy he felt around them. And slowly, piece by piece, Kaz started to find more optimism in each day.

It was simple, it was sweetness

It was good to know

Gently, Y/n knocked on the door to Kaz Brekker’s room. The Crows had returned from a job, but when some things went wrong, Kaz ended up without his gloves. Y/n had seen the panic in his eyes, the way they were unfocused, clearly somewhere else. As soon as they had returned to the Crow Club, Kaz had locked himself away in his room.

Y/n had tried to give him space, but it had been an hour and they hadn’t heard from him. So carefully they had carried a cup of tea and some biscuits up the stairs, hoping that it would at least help calm their boss and friend.

“Come in.” Kaz’s voice was unwavering, but Y/n couldn’t forget the way he had looked when his hands had touched skin.

Y/n opened the door and saw Kaz sitting on the edge of his bed, his face a mask of perfect calm and control once again. Unsure of what to do or say, Y/n elected to just place the tray down on the bedside table.

“I brought you some chamomile tea, and some biscuits, but I’m afraid Jesper or Nina may have gotten to them first.”

Kaz didn’t say anything in return, instead just giving a curt nod.

After making sure the tray was situated, Y/n took a step back, but didn’t leave. They knew they probably weren’t helping, but Y/n couldn’t leave again without knowing that their friend was okay.

“Are you…” Y/n sucked in a breath. “Are you alright?”

Kaz raised his head, eyes meeting Y/n’s, but there was an unreadable expression in them. For a moment the two just stood their, locked in each other’s gaze, the silence stretching between them.

Just as Y/n shifted to leave, Kaz’s voice stopped them.

“Do you know why I wear gloves?”

Carefully Y/n lowered themself to the ground, not wanting to startle Kaz for fear he would fold back into himself just as he was opening up. But to Kaz’s credit, he didn’t; with a low voice, he slowly described the events that had led to his aversion to touch, and the nightmares that returned when he was forced to.

When he was finished, they both just sat again in the silence. Y/n’s heart twisted for the man in front of them; they wished they knew a way to comfort him, but instead they looked him in the eye and said,

“You’re safe with me.”

Kaz ignored the lump in his throat that appeared when Y/n said those four words, nodding his head. Then, in a voice just barely above a whisper, he said two of his own that he rarely uttered.

“Thank you.”

If I said you could never touch me

You'd come over and say I looked lovely

Y/n left the busy club floor and made their way upstairs. Seeing the door to his room was cracked open, they entered and found Kaz standing at the window, staring out at the night sky.

“You retired early; are you alright?”

The young man’s back remained unturned. “I’d concluded my business for today, there was no reason for me to linger.”

Y/n ignored the twinge in their heart, use to Kaz’s terse words enough to realize they were his defense. “I thought you were going to join me for a drink tonight.”

Kaz’s shoulders tensed. “You seemed to have company enough.” He spat out.

For a moment Y/n paused, unsure as to what Kaz was talking about.

“Oh, do you mean the boys at the table?” they realized. “Well, I suppose you’re right, at least one of them probably wished I was accompanying them tonight.”

Kaz’s head turned ever so slightly, looking at Y/n out of the corner of his eye. “Then why don’t you?”

Y/n fully closed the door behind them, walking deeper into the room to stand behind Kaz. “Because while they might’ve wanted my company, I did not want their’s.”

That simple statement took Kaz by surprise, and he tried to ignore the way his heart sped up at the idea that Y/n might be alluding to wanting to spend time with him.

“Then who’s company do you want?”

Y/n’s eyes were soft, but they seemed to penetrate straight into Kaz’s soul as he looked into them. “Do you really not know?”

Kaz swallowed hard, trying to ignore the desperate, but futile, urge to take Y/n into his arms. Shaking his head, Kaz pulled his gaze away from Y/n’s eyes. “You do not want my company. You would do better off with someone else-“

“You cannot tell me what will make me happy, Kaz Brekker.” Kaz couldn’t help but look back at Y/n, their voice so defiant, so sure in themself, in Kaz. “You, you make me happy. Your company is the only one I want, day or night. So please, do not insult me so by suggesting another’s might be better for me.”

Kaz turned fully, moving ever so slightly towards Y/n. He could not touch them, but they were like a center of gravity, pulling him closer and closer. Carefully Kaz lifted his hand, his fingers just hovering over Y/n’s arm.

“I cannot give you what other men can. I cannot…” Kaz took a deep breath, hating to admit his weakness aloud. “I cannot touch you.”

A smile broke across Y/n’s face, one that was so genuine and full of warmth that Kaz’s heart skipped when he saw it.

“I do not need your touch, Kaz. Yes, other men’s touch may set my skin on fire, but you set my soul on fire.” Kaz could see the tears glistening in Y/n’s eyes.” You are everything I dream of, and I want to spend every moment with you. So no, I do not need your touch. I am happy with you just as you are Kaz Brekker.”

Kaz felt like he couldn’t breathe, but only because he feared if he did this would be a dream and disappear. But carefully he nodded, gently taking Y/n’s hand inside his gloved one. “And I am happy with you.”

You look perfect, you look different

I don't wonder about your indifference

Even after that night, Kaz still struggled, both to believe that Y/n would truly stay with him and with the fact he could not touch them. He loved them so, and therefore wanted to give them the world. Y/n assured Kaz that they were fine, that they were happy with him just as he way, but that didn’t stop Kaz from trying his best to show his affection in his own way.

Slowly, Kaz opened himself up to Y/n more and more, allowing the person who had captured his heart to see him as he really was. Part of him assumed that they would go running, but to their credit, Y/n stayed through it all. Kaz even slowly tried to touch them; it was difficult, nay, excruciating work, and even the barest brush of fingers sent Kaz spiraling back, he despaired. But the hope that one day he would be able to just hold his lover’s hand pushed him forward, slowly working through the pain that had lingered on his skin his whole life.

And Y/n was there every step of the way, cheering on Kaz’s successes and soothing when it caused distress. They never pushed him, instead allowing him to move at his own pace. And true to their word, Y/n loved Kaz just as he was. They too found a way to show love, through acts of service or spending time with Kaz. The couple didn’t necessary always do something together, instead sometimes electing to do separate activities in the vicinity of each other. It soothed both of them just to know the other was their, and sometimes their eyes would meet, and they would just know it meant, “I’m here, I love you.”

It was simple, you are sweetness

Let's just sit a while

The rain pattered against the window pane in Kaz’s office, it’s repetitive sound calming as it mingled with the crackling of the fireplace. Carefully Kaz looked over his books, seeing what needed to be taken care of and ensuring everything was in order.

Kaz heard a knock on the door, but he immediately knew it was Y/n. Quietly they entered, bringing with them a cup of tea for the both of them. Kaz cleared a space for it on the desk, and as Y/n set it down, he pulled up their chair next to his. This was really part of their nightly routine, with Y/n reading or working on something of their own beside Kaz as he finished up business for the day.

But instead of immediately going back to his numbers, Kaz took a moment to appreciate the person beside him. They thumbed through their book, finally settling in as they found the page they had left off on. Unaware of their lover staring at them, a small smile rested on Y/n’s face as they finally relaxed and settled in for the night. Y/n was beautiful, and once again Kaz thanked whatever higher power there may be for bringing them into his life.

Grappled by the desire that came everytime Kaz was with Y/n, he decided to take a chance. Shakily, he took his hand out of his glove. For a moment he stared at it, terrified as to what nah happen. But Kaz looked at Y/n once again, and he could not shake the love or the calm he felt with them, and Kaz realized he did not want his life to be dictated by what one person had done to him.

So Kaz extended his hand, palm up, towards Y/n. The tips of his fingers brushed the back of their hand, but as Kaz looked into Y/n’s eyes, he pushed back the memories that resurfaced, instead focusing on what was in front of him.

Wordlessly and gently, Y/n took Kaz’s hand, and the latter intertwined their fingers. The smile on Y/n’s face spread, a look of pure joy lighting up their features, and Kaz felt that anything was worth seeing that. Knowing that he was safe in his home with his lover, Kaz allowed a small smile to crack across his face, showing just a sliver of the true joy he felt.

Hands still intertwined, Kaz turned back to his books and Y/n to their story. The night continued on with its rain and the blazes slowly turning to embers, but for the couple in the office, the world had a million possibilities with the love of the person beside them.