#other times i bang out 3k words in one sitting

[zeroeightzeroone]

lover of mine - bang chan

genre: angst, hurt eventual comfort

pairings: idol!bang chan x female reader

warnings: none

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~3k|moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"i'll never give you away, 'cause i've already made that mistake,

if my name never fell off your lips again, i know it'd be such a shame.

when i take a look at my life, and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right."

lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer

you always thought that the next time chan would be making you cry would be at your wedding ceremony.

initially, you would try to hold in your tears, just enough so that you weren't full-on sobbing and ruining your makeup. eventually failing as the tears flow freely listening to the man tell you the moment he fell in love with you, the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the promises he vows to keep forever. chan's eyes would never leave yours as you exchanged vows; in that moment, only you and chan existed, the proclamation and celebration of your love were the only things that mattered.

instead, here you are crying over chan. sitting in the driver's seat of your car, sobbing over the man who once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, now not wanting to fight for that future anymore.

…

"you're doing it again."

the sound of your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, attention now on the girl sitting across from you, "huh?"

she reaches over and places her hand on yours with a sympathetic smile on her face. no words are needed from her to make you realize what you were doing whilst zoning out; fiddling around with your ring finger. a habit you picked up after chan proposed, and a habit that hadn't changed even without the band on your finger; your fingers instinctively moving to spin and twist a non-existent ring.

"right," you clear your throat awkwardly.

your hands slipping out from under hers, sliding them under your thighs hoping that maybe sitting on your hands would work against the habit.

"how are you?"

the word 'lost' feels like an understatement. the word couldn't encapsulate even a quarter of your feelings.

you felt directionless, overwhelmed by the constant switch between emotions: anger, frustration, sadness, and denial, it left you exhausted. day by day, you only grew more emotionally drained, the desire to feel nothing only intensifying.

the mere thought of the dimpled man gave you whiplash, your heart and your head conflicting with each other and your feelings pulling you from one end to the other. you couldn't pinpoint exactly how you felt about him.

god, you wished that you didn't even think about him.

you wished that you weren't plagued by the thought of him at every waking moment. everything reminded you of him, everything brought you back to the memory of how easy it was for him to let you, the person he proclaimed to want to spend the rest of his life with, to watch them walk out the door, to just give up without a fight.

why couldn't it have been easy for you too? why couldn't you just let him go the way he did you? forget him like he meant absolutely nothing?

as much as you wished it was, you knew it wouldn't be easy to move on from chan.

your early adulthood started with chan, moving in with him almost a year and a half after you started dating. he became a part of your routine and you became part of his; there was a time when your day didn't feel complete without hearing a goodnight from him or getting that goodnight kiss. your lives were intertwined, and your future plans were intertwined.

you believed chan was your future. he made you believe that you would write the next chapters of your lives together, that you two would be side by side on the road to forever. you envisioned your future with chan, without him you've hit a crossroads, struggling to navigate where to go from here. you were scared.

scared to learn what the future holds for you, scared to take a step towards a future without him.

on top of all that came public attention.

the news about your breakup hadn't been confirmed by chan or jyp entertainment. regardless that didn't stop the speculations and rumours that came with the lack of seeing you and chan in public together, seeing you without your ring, and other proofs fans would dig up. the algorithm also working against you as whenever you refreshed social media, the first couple of posts would be news articles, headlines and what have you, discussing the speculations.

'did stray kids' bang chan and his long term girlfriend call it quits?'

'fans of stray kids speculate bang chan and his partner have called off the engagement'

'netizens react to alleged proofs that bang chan and long term girlfriend have split up'

'breaking: did stray kids' bang chan and girlfriend split up? here's why fans are wondering about the status of the long-term couple'

your comments were flooded with questions regarding the rumours, mourning fans hoping that they were baseless and haters congratulating you on setting the man free. you wondered why the news hadn't been spoken about by chan or any official representatives but the speculations drove you to log out of social media. the realization that one day the articles and headlines will change from 'speculations' to 'confirmations' the anticipation and anxiety driving you insane.

you look back up to your friend, your lips pursed together in a small smile as you reply:

"i'm fine."

…

"chan hyung!"

the boy pulls the pillow up and over his head, trying to block out the noises from outside the door. hoping that the longer he ignored, the realization that he wanted to be alone would sink in and everyone would leave him be. that hope was short-lived as the door swung open.

"chan hyung!" changbin calls from his spot at the door, "you need to eat something."

from where he's standing, changbin watches chan groan out a response from under the pillow, making no effort to get up and go eat something. changbin's eyes drift to the older boy's bedside table, a picture frame is lying face down (probably a photo of you), and sitting on top of the frame is a gold band with a large diamond: your engagement ring. the sight of the band sitting on chan's bedside table and not on your finger has a small frown adorning changbin's lips.

"hyung, i know it's hard but please. you need to take care of yourself too," the younger boy sighs, "locking yourself in your room won't do anyone good."

of course, it wasn't easy for them to see chan in such a state.

chan had always been the one putting up a strong front, walking around with his head up no matter the circumstances as the leader. but these past couple of weeks, whenever chan was out of the public eye he'd walk with his head down, dragging his feet, no words leaving him. almost like he's being forced to be anywhere outside of his bedroom.

the members in the other dorm were curious about their leader, wondering how he'd been holding up but chan stopped replying to the group chat. it got to the point where the members made a chat without chan, using that to ask jisung, changbin and hyunjin how the older one was doing.

for as long as you were in chan's life, you were also in the member's lives. the news of the breakup came as a shock to them as well. they were all curious as to how you were doing too, but were hesitant to ask you directly for fear of making things harder for you. you met all of them through chan, and seeing their names pop up on your phone may just be another reminder of your ex.

changbin's eyes are on chan as the older boy takes the pillow off his head, slowly sitting up on the bed, feet hitting the floor but making no move to stand up. instead he's slouched over, head in his hands and sighing.

"do you, uh…" chan's voice barely above a whisper, "do you think i made a mistake?"

changbin shuts the door behind him hearing chan's question, realizing right now his friend needed someone to talk to before, maybe, going to eat something.

leaning against the door, he replies, "what do you mean?"

"w– was proposing… a mistake?"

"do you feel like it was a mistake?"

chan shakes his head, "no."

"did you mean everything you said when you proposed?"

"yes."

"then it wasn't a mistake."

chan lifts his head out of his hands, head turning to the younger boy leaning at the door. even in the dim purple lighting of chan's room, changbin can see how glossy his eyes are, how the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent since yesterday.

"was… was letting her go," chan's voice shaky, "a mistake?"

changbin pushes himself off the door, making his way to sit next to his hyung on the bed. a comforting hand moving to chan's back.

"that's a question only you can answer," changbin's lips are pursed to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he continues, "did it feel like a mistake at the time?"

"i- i thought i was doing the right… thing," chan's voice pitches higher at the end, questioning his own answer, "when i came home, an–and saw the dinner table, full of food she made for us. when she told me everything she was feeling, the look i-in her eyes."

chan loves your eyes, it's by far his favourite thing about you.

looking into your eyes had him falling in love with you before he even knew it. looking into them made it feel as if he was looking into your soul, almost like your eyes could tell him what your words couldn't. chan's day would immediately be flipped upside down just at the sight of your eyes, a shitty day becoming the best day when he caught a glimpse of those radiant, warm pools of life, your eyes sparkling with a zest and excitement for life that sent a wave of comfort over him. whenever he looked at you, that glimmer of hope in your eyes made him feel like everything would be okay.

but that night, the look in your eyes that night is seared into chan's memory. haunting him whenever he closes his eyes, whenever his eyes fall on your ring sitting on his bedside table.

that night when you told him just how lonely you'd been feeling, how you felt like he was treating you like the help and not as his fiancé; those words knocked some sense into chan. the harsh reality glaring him down: he had been falling short in your relationship. he had been so blind to that fact for who knows how long, listening to you had chan wallowing in guilt.

at one point chan felt like he was a third person watching everything go down, but it felt like he was watching you and a whole different person. he wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't feel anything other than guilt eating him alive.

when he looked into your eyes, that's when everything came crashing down.

the eyes that once gleamed up at him, washing a wave of comfort and reassurance through his body were boring into his own. the contrast had his blood running cold. the sight of your hollow and dull orbs gazing up at him, even the sources of light around you did nothing to bring back that sparkle. the way your eyes looked incredibly sunken in, tired, swimming with distress as they searched his. he wondered how he hadn't seen the change before.

a change that happened because of him. the light in your eyes is gone all thanks to him. he wanted to be the one to preserve and make sure your eyes light up for the rest of your life, but instead he's the reason you look defeated. he couldn't handle the guilt eating him up at the sight.

"i-i broke her," chan whispers, "you could see it in her eyes how my shortcomings, the ones i was too blind and stupid to notice… that broke her. i broke her."

changbin doesn't say anything.

"i thought it would be better for me to let her go… get her away from me who was sucking the life out of her," chan's hands run through his hair, "she deserves so much more than me."

the older boy cries. his thoughts, feelings, everything just clouded with you.

"hyung," changbin's tone is soft, feeling out the atmosphere, "don't you think that it's sucking the life out of her even more, to be away from you?"

this time chan is the one who doesn't say anything.

"she wanted you to stay, she wanted you to convince her to stay."

"convince me to stay… please."

"i'm sorry."

"yes. from what you told us the day after you broke up, she does deserve better."

changbin's words send a dagger to chan's heart.

"but don't you want to be the one she deserves?"

chan's head turns to look at changbin.

"you need to work to be better, to be the one y/n deserves. that's what she wants, she wants you hyung."

"… m-me?"

"she wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if she didn't want you for the rest of her life."

…

your plan for the day was to wake up around noon, order some takeout or ransack your best friend's freezer for some food (and ice cream), chill on the couch and watch some netflix. instead you're jolted awake, at ten in the morning, by pounding at the front door.

rolling your eyes in annoyance, stretching your arm out, feeling around before grasping a pillow and clutching it over your head, trying your hardest to block out the noises and fall asleep. hoping the longer you hold out, it will give off the illusion that no one's home and come back later. a couple moments pass, a sigh of relief falls from your lips when the knocking stops, allowing you to loosen your grip on the pillow around your head.

maybe the neighbours got annoyed and kicked whoever that was out.

at the silence, you roll onto your side and shift your body around to get comfortable in the mattress. another long breath leaving your lips once that optimal position to fall asleep in is found, closing your eyes and getting ready to be lulled back into dreamland.

now you think someone is fucking with you.

the knocking starts up again, for a second you thought you'd fallen asleep and the knocking was continuing in your dreams but no. sadly, you weren't lulled back into dreamland like you hoped, the pounding in your head making it apparent that this was indeed, reality.

on top of all the things happening in your life lately, being woken up by a stranger relentlessly hammering the life out of their fist on your– actually, your best friend's– door is the kicker to a great day. a whine leaving your lips as you roll out of bed, pouting as you trudge to the door of the guest bedroom and continue your trek down the hall, towards the front door.

sure, you wouldn't have minded if your best friend, the person who lives in this unit, was actually home to answer the door. alas, she's at work whilst you're here; straightening out your pyjamas and plastering the fakest smile on your lips whilst you undo the locks, twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open.

"hello, mis—"

your jaw drops. posture immediately straightening due to the wave of tension that rushes through your veins, your mind comes up with two options: hide behind the door or run. your heart begins to race in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment but your feet are cemented to the ground. any urge you had to run away and hide quickly depleting at the sight of the man in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"chan… wh-what are you doing here?"

there he is: the man of the hour.

in front of you, in the flesh. standing a couple inches away from you clad in his usual all-black attire. you're avoiding his gaze but can't seem to pry your eyes off the bouquet in the man's hold.

a medley of red and white roses, baby's breath peeking throughout the arrangement.

"i- i needed to see you," chan's voice comes out husky.

shifting awkwardly on your feet, you sigh, "how did you know i was here?"

"multiple calls to your best friend and a long speech," he uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his lips.

'she's getting a long speech from me too.'

"okay, well…" you clear your throat, "you saw me so bye."

you go to shut the door but chan stumbles forward, holding it open as he stands in the doorframe. the gush of air from his sudden movements gives you a whiff of his cologne. that along with the closer proximity has a lump forming in your throat.

"w-wait, i wanted to talk too."

"y-you spoke and so did i so, bye," you choke out, trying to close the door again but to no avail as his body blocks your way, "please chan, what more do you want from me? don't make this harder for me."

chan reaches forward at the sight of a tear falling, wanting to wipe it away but you flinch away from his touch. your reaction has chan recoiling, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. you go to turn away from him.

"i made a mistake," he states, his words coming out rushed.

you gulp, angling your body towards the man again. this time your arms crossed over your chest, your gaze still falling away from his face. chan's throat clears when he realizes that you're not going to speak.

"that night, i shouldn't have let you go," he continues, "i should've told you, said something, said anything to convince you to stay… but… fuck. i- i was scared."

your eyes glance up at his face, only to look away just as quickly.

"you're probably thinking, of what?" chan runs a hand through his hair, "but listening to everything you said, everything that i was stupid, ignorant enough not to notice, all those things that i did– or, uh didn't do… that hurt you. it scared me to tell you i wanted you to stay."

your eyebrows furrow in frustration, this time your gaze stays on his face, making no move to wipe the tears running down your cheeks.

"listening to you, hearing how much i hurt you. i- i thought it would've been selfish of me to tell you to stay," chan's voice cracks, tears falling from his eyes as well, "i thought i would hurt you more if you stayed… that you didn't deserve that, y-you deserved so much more than me."

"god, chan.…" a bitter smile on your lips, "you saying nothing, letting me leave… a-and not fighting for me, for us! fuck… that hurt more than anything."

the memories of that night have your heart aching. whimpering as the tears continue to fall, the sight has chan's gradually getting heavier in his chest. he wants nothing but to pull you into his arms and to never let go.

"i know… i know. baby, i'm so sorry," chan's cheeks are soaked with tears but he makes no effort to wipe them away, "i'm so fucking sorry. i thought i was doing what was best for you, but i fucked up, i fucked up big time."

your eyes lock with chan's. glossy, tear-filled orbs gazing into each other, at that moment the tears only build until the both of you are crying a river in the hallway.

chan quite literally launches himself at you. throwing his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, nuzzling your head into his shirt. bodies trembling and shaking as the both of you cry in each other's arms.

chan soaks up every single thing about this moment; the warmth of your body radiating onto him, your face nuzzled into his chest, the smell of your hair, the way your hands grip the back of his shirt, the feeling of your body pressed up against his. he isn't even sure that you'll take him back. regardless, he knows he wants to work his hardest to ensure he'll have you in his arms every day for the rest of his life.

in his arms, he holds the person who has been with him every step of the way and supported him day in and day out. the biggest mistakes chan ever made took place on that day: not convincing you to stay, not telling you how he loves you with his entire heart, and holding your engagement ring in his hand while he watched you walk out.

chan wants you to be so much more than just his past and present, he wants you to be his future, his forever. he's always wanted that but he failed at showing you, instead hurting you in ways he was completely ignorant of.

"i love you," chan cries, you can hear his heart racing in his chest, "i love you so much. if you let me, i'll work every single moment of every day to show you that. when i told you i wanted you for the rest of my life, i meant it. i mean it with my whole heart. i fucked up–majorly, but i swear to you! i swear i'll show you that i'm the one you deserve, that i can give you that life you deserve."

chan looks down at you, enveloped in his arms as your gaze naturally lifts to meet his eyes.

chan's heart skips a beat.

there it is.

that sparkle.

main masterlist

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

The Bet | Bang Chan

•Synopsis: After losing a bet with your boyfriend, your penalty is to do whatever he says that night. But what sort of penalty does he have in mind in the middle of a nightclub and why are crotchless panties involved?

Who would've thought losing a bet would be so much fun?

•Pairing: au Bang Chan x Female Reader

•Content Includes: Heavy smut, Established relationship, Public unprotected sex, slight Restricted movement, Soft Dom Chan, Minimal fluff, Crowded area

wc:3k+

an: edited but might still contain some errors

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

“Remember the bet, baby girl.”

Your boyfriend Chan whispers in your ear making you shiver.

You're innocently sitting on his lap in the VIP section of an upscale nightclub somewhere in downtown DC. The club pulses with energy as the heavy bass reverberates through the sleek, dimly-lit space. The air is infused with the scent of expensive perfumes and colognes, mingling with the subtle aroma of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

Smooth leather couches, separated by a red velvet rope line the perimeter of the dance floor, offering cozy spots for groups like our own to relax and chat amidst the excitement. The group of friends you two came with, move with confidence on the dance floor in front of you bathed in hues of deep purples and blues. Hip-hop, EDM, and R&B classics fill every corner of the room. You nod at your boyfriend's words believing he wouldn't go through with the penalty of the bet you lost against him.

Why you bet him that you could deep throat him without gagging wasn't the smartest thing you've done. Chan is far too thick and lengthy to take every inch without gagging even a little when he hits the back of your throat with the swollen head of his cock. Now you wait in a short black leather pleated skirt with a pair of crotchless panties underneath waiting for his command. With every drum his finger plays on your hips you feel your body respond to him. Little touches here and there make you fully aware of all the places his hands and fingers linger on your body. From your back, through the exposed slit down your blouse to your navel. He touches every bit of flesh he can without the movements looking indecent.

There's possibly over a hundred people inside the club and that's just on the floor you're on, there's two other floors below you. You feel certain Chan won't do anything too drastic around all of these people, that he just wants to tease you and keep you on your toes. Though with this man you've been with for years now, you can't ever put anything past him. He's capable of doing so many things others would never dream of doing. If he wants something then nothing will stop him from his goal. It was that way when you met through your boyfriend at the time. He was a toxic asshole and Chris knew he could treat you a thousand times better than he ever could. So he proved it to you every chance he got. Won your heart and eventually your mind, body and soul. You've been happy ever since. Everyday was an adventure with him, full of spontaneity for you, yet carefully thought out in his mind.

So when you feel him lower the zipper of his designer black ripped jeans you're not really surprised. You aren't prepared for him to wrap his arms around your midsection though. In one quick move he pulls you back against his chest and you yelp in surprise. The movement frees his cock from the opening in the front of his boxers. It springs up and out, resting against your ass. Your eyes go wide, your mouth agape and you're at a loss for words. It would take one shift from you for him to slip between your thighs or inside of you. As if he can read your mind, Chan settles his palm flat on your thigh with just enough pressure for you to understand him without words. Doesn't stop him from whispering in your ear though, knowing how his breath on your neck will affect you.

“Don't move baby. Not until I say so. This is a penalty remember… not a reward.” He smirks, proud of himself for this brilliant idea.

Chan is loving this little game of his and he wants to drag it out for as long as he can but the feel of your soft supple ass flushed against his hard length makes him feel like a mad man. He wants to ram himself inside of your sweet slippery walls and plow himself into you until you're creaming all over his cock and dripping down to his balls. He flexes the stiff muscle and grins wickedly when you groan softly. How long can he repeat that move until he feels it inch further and further away from where it rests? until it plops into your needy cunt? He wonders to himself. Maybe if he calculates it right he can make it so his cock doesn't find its way inside of you just yet. He'd love to fuck your thighs for a little bit. Feel you squeeze him with those thick fleshy thighs that he loves.

While you're sitting as still as possible forcing yourself to look as if nothing is wrong, Chan plots behind and underneath you for more ways to tease you like this. Momentarily you're both pulled out of your inner thoughts and intimate bubble when a couple of your friends come over to the table to hydrate and to get you two onto the floor to join them dancing.

“Come on bestie dance with us! Hannie keeps stepping on my feet.” Your best friend exclaims setting down her drink and side eyeing her boyfriend.

“Hey hey that wasn't my fault Minho bumped into me. I'm being framed.” Han puts his hands up in surrender.

You're laughing at the couples playful bickering in front of you but you can feel Chan’s erection twitch again as your laughter rocks your body.

“You two go ahead, you know Chan and I like vibing and watching you guys have fun. We'll join you before the night's over.” You smile in their direction and Chan's does it again.

This time flexing his cock three times making it bounce under you until it slips through your thighs briefly brushing past your clit. Your eyes go wide and you gasp. Very quickly you pretend to sneeze covering your mouth with your hands.

“Bless you baby.” Chan says and you can hear the smile. “Why don't you two show us exactly how to have fun yeah? See if we can compete with you guys later.” He adds over your shoulder and whatever Han sees on his buddies face he's taking your friends hand and pulling her away from the lush VIP area.

He chuckles watching the pair disappear into the crowd and pushes up off the couch as if he's trying to get comfortable but the move only rubs your aching clit with the side of his stiffness. Every vein and ridge brushes the nub making you squeeze your legs together which is exactly what he wanted.

He groans softly before he whispers in your ear, “No moving remember?” and you groan in frustration.

“Please Channie. I'm so wet can't you feel how bad I need you?” You whine, turning your head to look at him.

His coffee colored eyes glitter when they find yours. His full lush lips part and he runs his tongue over them. When you bite down on your own lip you feel him again and you know he's just being stubborn in not giving in and filling you up.

“Because you said please. Slowly scoot up forward to grab your drink off the table and then back down.” He instructs and you nod turning back around.

Your drink, a mix of pineapple and cranberry juice sits in front of you on the oval glass table with beads of condensation dripping down the sides. Stretching your arm out, you slowly inch forward feeling Chan sliding down between your folds becoming slick with your juices. Your hand makes contact with the glass and when you slowly move back to how you were you feel him stretching your cunt wide each inch you push back onto him. The sensation is heavenly and you want to take your time. To enjoy the feeling of him finally inside of you but Chan is an inpatient man and he’s gripping your hips, pulling you back with such force that your drink splashes over the surface and onto the floor. You inhale sharply clutching the glass tighter than you normally would on a normal night out.

If you thought the feeling of Chan inside of you was heavenly, he'll describe it as exquisitely delectable. God he loves it when he bottoms out inside of you, loves it when you take all of him so well. He'll push himself even further though there's no where left for him to go just to hear you whimper the way you are now.

“Shhhh baby, that's it. Fuck. Now no moving no matter what. Good.”

You feel his cock pulsating inside you and keeping a neutral face has never been more difficult than now. If you two weren't surrounded by at least a hundred people right now your ass would be bouncing up and down on him until he was shooting and filling you up but instead you sit still, following his directions and sporting a very natural blush that no makeup brand could ever replicate.

How long could you both sit here like this without needing to cum? How could he even control himself to not thrust. Damn it… he feels too good and you need some stimulation so you ignore what he's told you to do and begin rocking back and forth nodding your head like you're doing nothing more than enjoying the song that the DJ plays. It's enough to make you cum right there but Chan's strong hands stops you with a groan sucking in air between his teeth.

“Hey hey hey.” He says softly. “You were being such a good girl.” His voice his husky and low, it makes your muscles clench around him and when he groans again it does nothing to stop the need you feel.

“Channie.” You whine, not caring about your dignity. “I can't do this. It's too much I need you to fuck me.” You admit squeezing your legs and in the process, squeezing his cock with your cunt.

He curses under his breath fanning your hair at the nape of your neck making you shiver. It's unintentional, completely innocent but you shivering pulls a instinctive thrust from Chan. When you moan he does it again and you have to remember that you're not alone when the urge to arch your back and grind your way into a climax tries to take over. Chan is fighting a battle that he feels he may lose because you just feel too good wrapped around him. Even if you don't move, all you have to do is bear hug his cock and he'll lose his sanity, his composer and unravel.

He didn't think he'd be the one suffering right along with you. As someone who thinks everything through he didn't think of this part. Now he's fighting his compulsions and the impulse to fuck you hard and rough even with an audience. When he makes any sort of sound it only turns you on even more and he knows your walls can't help but clench in response. The way your pussy swallows him up, contracting around him like it's trying to milk him has his brain going fuzzy.

“Fuck, y/n baby. I'm so glad this pussy is mine. If I fucked you right now could you control yourself baby? Or would everyone know that I'm deep inside of you giving you all eight inches of my cock? Hm?” Chan growls gritting his teeth digging his fingertips into your skin.

“Mm- I… I can try baby. I can't make any promises. You've got me too worked up. Please just fuck me though. I don't want to wait until we're home and I definitely don't want you to stop.” You reply sounding breathless as if you two had already been going at it.

“If we're doing this you have to keep still, no moving yeah? You do exactly what I say. If not then we're stopping. This is so we don't get caught okay?”

You nod looking straight ahead, focusing your eyes on the lighting fixtures that hang from the ceiling. They cast subtle patterns on the walls, adding to the ambiance around the club. Occasionally, bursts of colored light sweep across the room, adding to the atmosphere and hypnotizing you when you feel Chan start to move. He's squeezing his legs together like you were doing and bounces his legs to the beat of the song. Each squeeze and bounce creates a tiny thrust, his cock, barely moving in and out but it feels so good you almost close your eyes.

“Dance with me baby. Tap your foot. Fuck- mnh squeeze my cock with your pussy.”

You don't need to be told twice you do as asked without hesitation and the added movement on your part increases the thrusts. He's able to pull out of your cunt further, before snapping back up into you. The music is your focus though you don't hear what's playing, you keep the rhythm Chan has, nodding your head and keeping your breathing even. It's not easy, there's moments where you let slip a moan or a gasp that gets drowned out by the bumping bass. Even Chan can't control the raw uncontrolled sounds that escape him each time your pelvic muscles grip him.

Luckily for you two all your friends are still on the dancefloor but for how long? That thought is all too apparent to Chan and he cannot have anyone interrupting this. It feels too good to stop; he'd be liable to burn the place down in a fit of rage if he was forced to pull out of you before creaming your pussy, breeding you just how you both love. Heads will roll if he doesn't get to finish you both off.

“Need… mmm. Shit baby girl, I need you to cum q- quick can you do that for me?” He asks, his voice strains and his hands snake around your abdomen wrapping you in his arms. You nod in response. It's all you can do, you're afraid that if you try to utter a single word you won't be able to stop the noises that will spill from your lips.

“Good girl, now squeeze me and rock your body to the beat like you were doing before.” He steals your drink from your hand and brings it up to his lips nonchalantly but you hear his moans when you tighten your muscles.

Chan is close; he just needs you to reach your peak so that he can spill himself inside of your greedy cunt. So with his free hand he gently presses his palm down on your stomach just below your belly button. The pressure makes your legs shake and you stutter with your rocking but you find the rhythm again with ease, grateful that the song is a fast paced one.

With his cock throbbing inside of you and the rocking motion of your hips, Chan is now grunting behind you, quietly praising you behind the glass of your drink.

“Oh fuck baby, keep going. Mhm you're close now aren't you y/n? Yeah, I can feel it. So gorgeous when you cum. I can just imagine how you look right now, flushed cheeks, lips parted wanting to scream my name.” He grunts and adds more pressure to your abdomen and bucks his hips once and fast.

He's right you are close and you're more than certain that you're making a mess of the front of his jeans. Neither of you care, your impending shared orgasm on the forefront of your minds. With every rock of your hips you feel Chan's cock bump against that sweet spot nestled deep inside of you that only he can reach. Your walls quiver and you bite down hard on your bottom lip. Your brows crinkle together, making you look angry while you fail to look like nothing is happening other than a happy couple enjoying the music the DJ provides. Behind you Chan is struggling but not for long. With a popping sound, your bottom lip springs out from your teeth and you're gasping like you can't get enough air into your lungs.

“Chan… fuck.” You gasp and that's all that he needs to hear. He understands exactly what you mean.

“Yes…” He hisses, pushing his pelvis hard against you. “That's my girl. Oh fuck,” He gasps along with you. “Cum all over me y/n.” Chan mutters cumming inside of you, shooting hard and deep while the walls of your cunt throb with your own release.

With your movements slightly restricted to stay unnoticed, the orgasm is unlike any others that Chan has coaxed from you. It’s as if you've been plunged into an icy lake and the suddenness takes your breath away. Your body is on pins and needles and fucking hell does it feel unbelievable for both you and Chan. Your cunt devours every bit of his seed, still hungry for more. You're shaking all over and it takes Chan’s strong arms hugging you to slow down your breathing and your body to relax.

“Fuck.” You whisper and he chuckles.

“Mhm, I can't wait to get you home y/n. Hope you've got nothing planned tomorrow. I don't think you'll be able to walk when I'm done with you baby.” He informs you and your pussy reacts clamping down around his slowly softening cock.

“Oh, is someone already ready for another round?”

“Another round? Hell yeah bro let's end the night with a fucking bang!” Felix cheers from seemingly out of nowhere, pulling you and Chan back to the now. The shy giggles you two let out leave everyone confused as they join the table one by one.

After ordering another round for the group you both excuse yourselves and as descritley as possible separate from each other without anyone noticing. The whole way to the restroom laughter erupts from you and Chan.

“I can't believe we did that!” Chan shouts over the music and pulls you into his arms. His lips land on yours kissing you until your head is spinning.

“Keep that up Mr. Bang and I'm pulling you into the bathroom with me.” You scold him playfully. He calls your bluff, kissing you again and grabbing your ass for good measure.

“Go on, I'll be waiting beautiful.” he nods in the direction of the restroom doors.

Once cleaned up you and Chan rejoin your friends. Finally making it to the dancefloor, you dance an entirely different dance than before. Your body still feels lit up and the craving you have for your boyfriend still remains. You'll hold him to his promise when you get home but the one thing you love about him is that he always stays true to his word. You know he'll deliver, he's all action as well as words. Who would've thought losing a bet could be so much fun?

[pettypartypooper]

! lee know fic recommendation part 2 ¡

lee know fic recommendation list part 1

other members fic recommendation lists

s = smut , f = fluff , a = angst

quiet love-making with lee know [s] by @lixiesol​

little do you know series [s] by @illusivedark

total word count: 35k

summary: lee minho is handsome, kind, and successful; yet can’t land a long term commitment. and when it comes to the skeletons tucked away in his hedonistic closet, you’re going to find out precisely why that is. kink exploration!au

just you [sug] by @hyuniyz

word count: 2.3k

summary: after a tiring day, all you need is your boyfriend and the comfort he provides

friendship with hyunjin and minho [s,a] by @ballelino​

word count: 9.2k

summary: your friend with benefits minho wants both you and his roommate hyunjin to get what you want

just watch [s] by @ksmins

word count: 3k

summary: when your boyfriend is away, you find ways to make it work

minho using the fact that he is ambidextrous for fingering the reader while doing a hand job for felix [s] by @threevracha

all night (lee know, han jisung) [s] by @j-0ne25

word count: 3.7k

summary: there’s three things minho prefers: 1) getting drunk with his best friends instead of attending a lame frat party, 2) playing truth or dare instead of admitting his true feelings by speaking them out loud, 3) allowing jisung to make you feel good instead of having you all to himself

a pillow in between [s,a] by @starlostseungmin

word count: 7.2k

enemies to lovers trope

6:19 pm [s] by @bbyquokka

word count: 1k

[11:36] ft lee minho, han jisung [s] by bbyquokka

word count: 1.3k

he's soft for you [s] by @httpseiki

when he wants you to sit on his face [s] by @fluffylino

something new [s] by @subskz

word count: 4.1k

sub!lee know with sensitive thighs [s] by @smoonjis

good to me [s] by @daizymax

word count: 7.2k

summary: maybe agreeing to play a drinking game with friends while harboring a secret isn’t the best idea, but minho is tired of keeping the shift in your relationship a secret, anyway

hotline ft bang chan, lee minho, han jisung [s] by @planet-dusk​

word count: 1.5k

summary: “not so fast.” chan speaks up again. “there’s one rule: they can play with you, but only if you can correctly guess which one of them is controlling the vibrator you’re allowed to cum”

wrapped up [s,f] by @joyfulhopelox

word count: 12.4k

summary: the dance soc is not the place to flirt but you promised yourself you’d try new things this year, and when the boy wearing the colourful cosy sweater approaches you with a compliment you can’t resist but respond to him

WRONG CROWD. [s,f] by @seospicybin

word count: 24k

summary: you meet minho again at the high school reunion, the kid who used to sleep in class turns a tattoo artist

west side ft bang chan, lee miho [s] by @setsugekka

word count: 6.5k

summary: a very special valentines with your two boyfriends

between us (lee know, kim seungmin) [s] by @cb97percent

word count: 5.7k

host requested: lee know from one night at the back door series [s] by cb97percent

word count: 5.2k

minho + bondage kink [s] by @lix-ables

minho + voyeurism [s] by lix-ables

[5:27pm] [f,a] by @propertyoftoru

word count: 2.3k

smother me [s] by propertyoftoru

word count: 2.5k

“you’re the only thing that i think i got right” [s] by @straylightdream

word count: 5.8k

summary: the lines between friends and lovers is quick to blur. there isn’t anyone you would rather spend your time with, and he finds his sweet escape when he’s alone with you. what started out as casual thing that was supposed to be secret kept between the two of you leads to so much more

sudden desire - i want everything with you [s] by straylightdream

word count: 2.6k

summary: you always thought you knew exactly what you wanted in life. but being with minho makes you realize you want so much more with him

bad day (lee know, kim seungmin) [s] by @gimmeurtmi

word count: 2.4k

audience ft lee minho, kim seungmin [s] by gimmeurtmi

word count: 5.1k

summary: min & y/n (ft. minho) engaging in exhibitionism. y/n has a wet dream about minho and it’s kept her restless and horny — obviously seungmin takes note and asks whats going on and y/ns all like nooo youre gonna think im weird and i feel bad i don’t want you to hate me but he’s quick to shut that down and reassures her that he’s into it too because no matter what y/n will always belong to him

piercings (lee know, kim seungmin) [s] by gimmeurtmi

word count: 2.4k

eating reader out (lee know, kim seungmin) [s] by gimmeurtmi

discovery [s] by gimmeurtmi

summary: after a tiring day, all you need is your boyfriend and the comfort he provides

tell me [s] by gimmeurtmi

word count: 2.1k

kisses with minho [f] by @rachalixie

the best man [f] by rachalixie

word count: 1.4k

summary: your best friend's getting married, and you're the maid of honor. minho is the best man. you're just trying your best to not let him get under your skin

the best man part 2 [s] by @tasteracha

word count: 1.5k

summary: the best man and the maid of honor have to fuck after the wedding, right? it's the rules

painting (lee know, kim seungmin) [s] by tasteracha

summary: you did something wrong. or, alternatively, 2min are possessive

word count: 1.9k

drabble (lee know, yang jeongin) [s] by tasteracha

summary: minho lets felix get away with anything, including sleeping with his girlfriend

let me see you [s] by tasteracha

gates of hell [s] by tasteracha

word count: 2.2k

you didn’t think your first one night stand would turn out like this [s] by tasteracha

feel the beat [s] by tasteracha

summary: minho has this way of bringing out the most obedient sub in you

minho's long hair [s] by tasteracha

minho eating your pussy like it's a five star meal [s] by tasteracha

cockwarming computer science major minho [s] by tasteracha

kisses with minho [sug] by tasteracha

between (bang chan, lee know) [s] by @tasteleeknow

word count: 5k

summary: your two roommates are your best friends in the world. you’d also love nothing more than to be sandwiched between them. queue tension and smut with feelings

strawberries ft lee minho, han jisung [s] by @tasteleeknow​

word count: 5k

summary: your boyfriend catches his best friend moaning your name

everything and no one [s,f,a] by tasteleeknow

word count: 14.3k

summary: you’re a royal servant, someone who was supposed to sink into the shadows and speak only when spoken to. power: you had none… except when it came to the crown prince

addicted to you: one week [s] part 2 by tasteleeknow

word count: 1.2k

summary: minho has been on tour for weeks, he can’t sleep, so you send him an audio message to help him relax aka minho humps a pillow

lovely and sweet [s,a,f] by tasteleeknow

word count: 6.3k

summary: you’re insecure, both about being inexperienced and about revealing your body to him fully. minho asks if he can show you how much he likes you. a sickly sweet, body worship, virgin!reader smut

feast [s] by tasteleeknow

word count: 2k

summary: minho teaches you self defence and then…. well ya know

knife kink [s] by tasteleeknow

lee know fic recommendation list part 1

other members fic recommendation lists

[yuujispinkhair]

To the end (Chapter 1)

The end of the world as you knew it began with the virus spreading in your dorm. Six months later, you are once again on the run. By your side is Sukuna, the bad boy of your camp, the most unlikely companion you expected. But maybe this is exactly as it should be because sometimes hope comes in the form of a smug smirk and a tattooed pair of sword-yielding arms.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, horror, smut and some fluff Word Count: 3k Warnings: 18+, violence, gore, angst, smut in later chapters, zombies, fighting, knives, blood, mentions of several side characters' deaths, alcohol, suicidal thoughts. This AU is based on The Walking Dead, so imagine a world like this. It's cruel and hopeless at times, but there is also a love story :) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact. I have to re-post this chapter because it didn't show up on people's dash the first time.

The attack happens so fast that you don't even have time to process what is happening. One moment you are fast asleep on your bed in the small trailer you share with your former college dormmate. The next moment you are awoken by screams and the sound of someone banging on the door.

You sit up in bed with a gasp, instantly fully awake. Your heart is beating up to your throat as fear grips you, making you feel sick and letting black spots dance in front of your eyes.

Please not again!

But you know there is no other explanation. You know these sounds. They are here. Another wave of zombies. They always find you, no matter where you go.

You started out six months ago in your college town when the mysterious virus began to spread all over the country. At first, you and the others in your dorm had decided to lock yourself in the building. It had seemed like a fortress, like a safe place. You had enough blankets, clothes, food, and drinks to last a long time. Maybe it could have really worked. But then that blonde girl from your English course suddenly lunged at her roommate, tearing out a chunk of her arm right in front of your eyes.

The virus couldn't be stopped from spreading through your supposedly safe place after that. The moment you found out that you had to destroy the brain, it was already too late, and even the poor souls you had assumed had found eternal rest came back to life in the most gruesome way.

The battle was lost. No matter how many of your former classmates you and the other survivors had to stab, there was always another one who suddenly went into predator mode.

You had to give up the dorm and flee the city. In the beginning, you were a group of ten, but you lost several on the way. In the end, only your roommate and you made it out of the city.

The two of you found shelter in a former kindergarten in a suburb until that was run over by a wave coming from the city.

After that, you were on the road in a shabby old trailer, sharing it with three other people from the kindergarten.

A farmer's family took you in after a few weeks and let your little group move into their barn if you helped protect the farm.

It was actually nice there. The people were kind and helpful and always had enough food and clean clothes.

But after several months, gunshots sounded one night, and ten minutes later, the friendly farmer family was no more, and instead, the farm was taken over by a group of brutal rogues. Your friend and you were the only ones who managed to escape by crawling through the pigpen until you were far away enough to dare to stand up and run.

A week later, you found a new place to stay. This small camp with several trailers and tents. The group was an array of people, small groups of twos or threes who had made it here like you and your roommate and decided to join this community.

Several weeks had passed, and you had begun to feel pretty safe here. The camp was peaceful most of the time. There were hardly any problems. People got assigned jobs depending on their skills, so everyone contributed to ensuring the group stayed alive. The few encounters you had with zombies were solved quickly.

You should have known that it wouldn't stay that way.

You hastily grab your backpack and the long knife you use as a weapon before stumbling out into the night.

The camp is illuminated by a full moon and several torches that some people are swinging to try to chase away the walkers.

"Those are too many. We will never be able to keep the camp!"

Your friend's voice is full of fear, bordering on hysterical, as she steps out behind you and sees the chaos that is reigning out here.

You know that she is right.

"Let's get away from here!"

The next few minutes go by in a frantic blur. People are screaming, the grass is slippery from things you don't want to think about, and fire is everywhere, blinding you, making you disoriented.

"In which direction do we have to go to get to the road?"

There is no answer.

Your heart clenches in dread as you turn around to your friend. She isn't where she's supposed to be.

Instead of following you through the chaos, she is on the ground several meters away, beneath a pile of zombies. Her face is distorted in pain, eyes wide with fear, and a horrible-sounding scream finds its way out of her lips.

You automatically clutch the knife tighter in your hand, taking a step towards her, instinctively wanting to help, even though the rational part of your brain knows it's too late.

Your attempt to save her is aborted by another walker falling on top of your friend. It buries her under its weight, and the piercing scream from her mouth stops instantly.

Your eyes widen in shock. Unable to move, you stare at the place where your only friend left just disappeared under the greedy bodies of those undead monsters.

It's a gunshot to your right that makes you come out of your stupor. Your breath comes out in panicky huffs as you start running again without knowing where you are going. Hopefully, you will find the way to the road so you can follow it to a hiding place.

Your heart is beating too fast, panic is making you run at a higher speed, but you can't breathe, and you see lights dancing before your eyes, making you disoriented and stumble over stones and other obstacles.

A desperate sob escapes your mouth. You won't make it out of here. You can't see where you are going, and you have lost orientation. You are all alone! How are you supposed to make it?

Suddenly a hand grabs your arm, and you gasp in fear, instinctively trying to shake the attacker off, lifting your hand that's holding the knife, but it gets pressed down again. You struggle against the iron grip but have no chance.

"Stop it, brat! Do you want to get us both killed? I'm trying to save your life here!"

The voice seems vaguely familiar. Your head whips around, and you see moonlight illuminating pastel pink hair. Relief washes over you. Pink is good! Pink is safe! Pink means this is one of the Itadori twins!

Sukuna, you realize a second later when you see the black tattoos on his face and the mad glint in his maroon eyes.

Now that you know who grabbed you, your resistance is gone, and he can easily pull you along. You stumble after him, grateful for his firm grip on you. Your free hand is desperately clutching the handle of your knife while you're breathing harshly and looking feverishly around for any attackers.

There are some on the small path before you, but Sukuna takes care of them with three powerful swings of his sword.

You were always fascinated by the katana he carries around with him. It looks impressive, and combined with Sukuna's strength, it is probably the deadliest weapon in this whole camp. Sukuna looks majestic when swinging it.

He is always imposing, with or without the sword in his hands. Sukuna is tall and muscular. The dangerous smirk and cold rage in his eyes combined with the black tattoed lines adorning his face and body give him a powerful and untouchable aura.

You can't really claim to know him. But you occasionally interacted with him, mainly when your group needed a strong guy to help carry something and you couldn't find Yuuji, the nicer one of the Itadori twins. The brothers live in a mobile home on the other end of the camp. Or used to. You doubt any of it is still standing. The camp is lost.

A sob escapes your mouth before you can help it, but luckily it gets drowned out by the gurgling noises of the zombies Sukuna is slaying.

There are more coming your way, you realize, and you lift your hand that's holding the knife, suddenly getting a spur of adrenaline and hope now that he's here and dragging you with him, away from certain death.

You have no idea where you're going or if you will live to see the sunrise one more time, but at least there's a chance of survival now that one of the best fighters of your former camp is here. 

And the least you can do is help your temporary savior. A bitter conviction settles over you. If you go down tonight, it will be with a fight, and you will make sure the pink-haired twin is the last to go. You owe that to him.

His gaze meets yours across the blood splattering off the blades of his katana and your knife as you stab two zombies next to each other.

A small smirk tugs at Sukuna's lips, and he gives you a curt nod, showing you that he approves of your decision to fight alongside him.

He turns around, muscular arms lifted high in the air to bring his katana down again to slay more attackers. You follow him quickly, backing him up with your knife in your hands, ready to strike any moment.

"Hold on to me so you don't get lost. I want to seek shelter in the woods."

You do as he tells you, grabbing his backpack with one hand while you fall into step with him, keeping watch of your surroundings, knife ready.

You are working on autopilot right now, step after step, lifting your knife to stab at the occasional zombie coming up to you. Blinking away the blood that drizzles down on you when Sukuna takes another swing with his katana.

You don't know how long you stumble through the grass like that. Your muscles ache, and your lungs hurt with the harsh breaths you take. But your mind is clear and focused on the task of staying alive.

It must have been at least fifteen minutes since you last saw anyone from your camp. That thought makes your next step falter for a moment, making you stumble against Sukuna's muscular frame.

You don't have anyone left, but Sukuna still has his brother, so why is he out here without the other pink-haired twin?

"Where is your brother?"

Sukuna's next strike with his katana is even more brutal, beheading a walker with so much force that the head flies through the air in a grotesque imitation of a baseball game.

"I don't know. We got separated."

He presses out between his teeth, sounding strained for the first time this night.

"I... I'm sorry!"

"Yuuji knows how to fight. He has good instincts, so I know he went into the woods too. We will find him!"

The last part is a vicious-sounding growl as if Sukuna is trying to convince himself as much as he's trying to convince you that his brother is ok and he will see him again.

Sukuna's left foot connects with the head of a zombie that's crawling towards the two of you, crashing it beneath the soles of his black army boots, exorcising yet another demon and reminding you to stay alert. This fight isn't over yet.

You finally make it into the woods, hacking your way through some bushes until you reach a forest path that leads you deeper between the giant trees.

The attacks become less frequent until they stop altogether. It was a good decision to go into the forest, the direction where the walkers came from. In their mindless hunger, they just kept on following after their group.

But Sukuna doesn't stop walking. You struggle to keep up with his large strides, almost running to stay by his side.

When your sneakers catch on a root, Sukuna's arm darts out to catch you before you can fall. Even after hours of fighting, he's still alert and strong. He has the body and wit of a warrior. Tall and full of lean muscles combined with a sharp mind. A perfect killing machine.

He doesn't let go of you again after your almost fall. Instead, his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against his side so he can drag you along.

You are grateful for it. Without Sukuna, you'd probably tumble to the ground and stay there lying in the dirt, body unable to muster up the strength to keep walking.

"Over there."

Your gaze follows the direction Sukuna is pointing at with his free hand. On a small clearing between a group of large dark trees is a wooden hut.

Sukuna is already walking towards it, pulling you along while he unsheathes his katana.

"Let's check if it's clear. It would be a good place to stay for the rest of the night."

To your relief, there is no sight of any walkers or other people. The hut seems to have been abandoned a long time ago. Its interior is dusty and has a stale smell. It is small but sufficient for the two of you. A bed, a cupboard, and a small table with a chair are there. You assume the cabin belonged to a hunter who sometimes spent the nights here.

Sukuna grins and gives you a thumbs up, finally letting go of you so he can put his backpack and sword on the table and barricade the door by pushing the heavy wooden cupboard against it.

You lean exhaustedly against the wall next to the door and let out a long sigh. Finally, you can get some rest. You close your eyes, feeling some of the tension leave your body as your fists unclench by your side.

But unfortunately, not being in the middle of a fight or on a quest to find shelter also gives you time to think.

And suddenly, it all crashes over you. The exhaustion, the fear, and all the death and destruction you saw tonight. Your friend's body trapped under the horde of walkers, seeing their hands wrap around her arms and legs, their teeth digging into her flesh.

Your knees give in, and you slide down the wooden wall of the cabin, crumbling bonelessly to the floor. A broken sob escapes your mouth as you wrap your arms around your knees, pulling them to your body, hugging yourself, nails digging into your legs as you shake.

Your whole body is trembling, shaken by the desperate sobs that force their way out of your lips, too frequent and too intense. You are crying so hard that it hurts your lungs and throat.

You lost another person! Another friend. The last one you still had. You are alone!

Suddenly a warm hand lands on your arm, startling you. Your head snaps up, and your gaze meets a pair of narrowed maroon eyes.

"Hey, brat, what are you doing? Are you having a panic attack or something?"

Sukuna is crouching down before you, mustering you with those unrelenting eyes. The blood and dirt on his face mingle with his tattoos and paint a creepy pattern on his skin. He looks like the personification of this night full of violence.

"N...no I...I... I'm ok."

He raises an eyebrow and laughs that arrogant mocking laugh you have often heard across the camp.

"Oh, don't even try that shit on me, honey. We both know that's a lie."

You bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away the tears only for fresh ones to well up immediately. Your chest heaves with another loud sob. It's painful to talk, and if you weren't so exhausted, you'd feel ashamed for how broken you sound.

"I don't have anyone anymore."

You bury your face in your hands, shaking with more sobs. But through your desperation, Sukuna's low, calm voice carries to your ears,

"That's not true. You have me."

Warm, strong fingers wrap around your wrists and pull your hands away from your face. You blink against the tears streaming down your face and lift your head to look at Sukuna.

This is the gentlest you have ever heard him speak. His eyes are still staring you down, though, two burning fires that glitter dangerously in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

"Listen, brat. You have to get a fucking grip. I need you to keep going because we are in this freak show together now."

The words he chooses are harsh, but they give you a strange kind of comfort. Sukuna isn't the type to sugarcoat things. He knows that only the strong ones survive out here. But he said "we," reassuring you again that you aren't alone in this. It keeps you from falling back down into that dark hole inside your mind.

Without realizing it, your fingers are suddenly intertwined with his, nails digging into the back of Sukuna's hands, clutching them so tightly that it must be painful. But you cling to him as if he is the only thing keeping you alive.

And he really is, isn't he?

You often ask yourself why you even still go on. Death seems like the easy option. The promise of eternal sleep sounds like a relief. And yet, you find yourself going on day after dark day. Maybe that's what human nature is. Even when you are stripped of anything else, there is still this little spark of hope that makes you keep going, no matter how meaningless it all seems. Maybe that hope is the cruelest curse of it all.

But tonight, you are grateful for it. Because when facing death earlier in the camp, you knew one thing for sure. You didn't want to die. Not like this.

So hope is a good thing, and tonight it came in the form of a smug smirk and a tattooed pair of sword-yielding arms.

You cling to Sukuna as if you cling to dear life. His eyes widen, and he tugs at his hands, freeing them from your violent grasp.

A dark laugh escapes his lips as he rubs the back of his hands where your nails left bloody marks,

"So are you ok again? You're not gonna have another breakdown?"

You nod slightly as a soft laugh bubbles out of your aching chest, bordering on hysterical. You quickly bump a fist against your chest and cough softly before you whisper,

"I think I'll...I'll manage. Thank you."

Sukuna seems to be satisfied with your answer. He rises to his feet, towering over you in all his glory, tall and strong.

"Alright, seems like this is a relatively safe place to spend the rest of the night. Try to get some sleep. We'll clean up and decide what to do once you have gotten some rest."

The last thing you are aware of is Sukuna pulling you up from the floor and lifting you into his strong arms to carry you over to the dusty bed and dumping you there.

You fall asleep to the memory of his low voice saying, "we".

You aren't alone.

Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of my Halloween series!! I hope you enjoyed it! The idea has been in my drafts for several months now, and I'm thrilled to finally work on it. I love TWD, and while taking a walk in the woods several months ago, I was reminded of the series, and suddenly I pictured Sukuna in it, and that's how the idea for this AU was born. I spent the whole walk imagining a story with him, and I couldn't get it out of my head again. Honestly, if I had to pick someone to be by my side during the zombie apocalypse, it would be this version of Sukuna :) Please let me know what you think! Would you pick him as your zombie apocalypse partner too? Comments and reblogs would mean a lot to me!

Chapter 2

[quietlyimplode]

@broken--bow my dear one, words cannot thank you for everything. How I wish they could. From your brain to my words. I hope I did it justice.

look at the stars. look how they shine.

Warnings: children witnessing dissociation, dissociation, grief. I swore I wouldn’t write endgame - but this is endgame with no death - snap happened but no one died.

Summary: Nathaniel and Clint build a marble run. (3k)

.

Nate yawns.

The Saturday morning makes him grin as he sits up in bed and pads out of his room to find his parents.

Saturday sounds already in the kitchen, and he finds his mum and sister already awake and eating.

“Hey sleepy,” his mum greets him with a kiss on the forehead.

He smiles at her and sits at the table, watching his sister draw arrows and people, Nate steals a pencil to help her.

“Nate, no!” she groans as he starts to colour in.

“Hey buddy, come sit over here,” his mum guides, and he frowns, wanting to draw.

He moves down the bench seat, and twirls the pencil, the green colour moulding as it spins.

He does it again, before it flies out of his hand and hits Lila.

“Nate!” she exclaims, exasperated.

His mum looks at him, with the look she gets when he’s not quite in trouble, but on his way there.

He frowns.

“Come grab some pancakes.”

He’s guided to the bench again, and he picks up two, opting for chocolate syrup and sugar.

He gets strawberries thrown on his plate and he goes back to sit down, away from Lila who still seems annoyed at him.

He didn’t mean to.

He wanted to help.

“Where’s dad?”

“Soccer with Cooper,” Lila answers, “they’ll be back soon, cause mum needs to take us to Max’s birthday party and then she’s going to get —“

Nate’s stomach curls in jealousy.

“I want to come,” he says, his mum wondering over.

“Oh honey, it’s Max’s birthday, it’s for Lila and Cooper.”

He stands, pushing out his chair and pushing away his breakfast.

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“Because you weren’t invited,” Lila says, standing up, her voice loud.

“That’s not fair, I can go too, I know Max,” he argues.

“But you weren’t invited,” Lila argues back.

Nate crosses his arms.

His mum seems to see it coming, he bangs his fist on the table and tries to step forward to Lila. He’s done nothing right since he woke up, it doesn’t matter, he feels like he’s in trouble anyway.

He reaches out to push Lila, only to be stopped.

“Nate, stop.”

The boundary is clear and he pulls himself back.

“I didn’t even want to go,” he says, sticking his tongue out to stop tears as he runs away.

He hates being the youngest, the one who always gets left out.

He heads back to his bedroom and sits on his bed, kicking his Lego breaking it apart.

No one comes after him, and he thinks his mum must have taken Lila’s side.

Anger burns in him as he looks around his room.

It’s not fair.

He did want to go.

Doesn’t Max like him too?

He slows his body down, just like his dad taught him, taking a deep breath and squats to put his Lego back together.

It’s not the same.

A small knock on the door reveals both his mum and dad and immediately he feels like he’s in trouble.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, looking to them both.

“Oh buddy; it’s okay, it sucks that you can’t come too, but this is just for Lila and Cooper,” his mum starts.

“Plus, you and I get to hang together!” his dad finishes.

He brightens at that.

He feels he never gets to spend time just the two of them.

He goes to his cupboard and drags out a marble run he’s been dying to put together, but no one had wanted to do it with him.

His dad nods and smiles.

“Come down and say goodbye to Mum and the others, and then we’ll build it, bigger than any we’ve built before.”

Nate grins.

“Deal,” he says, high fiving his dad as hard as he can.

He acts predictably and shakes his hand out and then offers his hands behind him and Nate high fives him again; following him down the stairs.

Saying goodbye to the others is easy and his dad drags out the marble run.

Nate watches him and copies putting pieces together, careful in testing his favourite blue marble to make sure all the pieces were aligned and working.

Gently, he add the last piece, climbing on the chair and then carefully let’s his marble fly.

“It works!!!” he yells in glee, then turns around waiting to be told to be quieter. It doesn’t come, instead his dad whoops with him and they hug as Nate looks at the box of marbles grinning in anticipation.

“Can we..”

His dad laughs.

“Let’s put them all down!”

Dragging the box over, he looks at them and finds the colours he likes.

Blue.

Red.

Green.

Yellow.

The colours standing out against the clear ones.

“We can take turns,” Nate says generously.

He puts the blue one down and then hands his dad a red one.

He loves the sounds of it rolling.

“Can you hear it, dad? Can you hear it?”

His dad shakes his head but signs that he can see it.

Nate frowns.

He drags his dads hand over to the run, and pushes it on. He does the same with his hand and let’s the green one fly.

“I can feel it,” his dad smiles.

Nate grins.

Pushing the yellow marble into his dad’s hand, he looks away for a second to get more.

He doesn’t hear the click clack of the marble go down and he turns back around.

Nate freezes.

His dad is frozen too.

Fear and pain on his face.

At least that’s what he thinks it is.

“Dad?” he tries, his stomach dropping.

“Daddy?”

It’s clear he can’t hear him.

“Dad?” he tries again.

He’s staring at the yellow marble.

Nate tries to take it away, but the result is his father pulling away, closing his hand over it and dropping to his knees.

“No…” he hears him say, his voice angry and quiet.

“It’s okay, Dad,” he whispers.

He’s not sure what to do.

The world feels dark and his dad isn’t feeling well.

He thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m just going to call Mum, okay?”

Leaving the room, he stares momentarily at his father, his eyes still on the yellow marble as he touches it.

It’s like he can’t hear him.

The phone is where it always is.

Nate presses the buttons, just like Aunty Nat taught him so long ago.

“Mum!?”

He hears her pick up, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Mum??”

“Nate?”

It’s Cooper.

He doesn’t want Cooper.

“Get mum,” he asks, moving back to find his father in exactly the same position.

“I heard you were making trouble this morning,” Cooper laughs at him.

“Please, get Mum,” he asks again, on the verge of tears.

There’s something in his voice that makes Cooper hand the phone over.

His mum’s voice pushes him over the edge.

“Nate? Are you okay?”

He feels the first tear fall.

“Dad’s not… he’s stuck,” he gets out, trying to take a deep breath and then sits next to his fathers inert body.

“Dad?”

There’s no response.

“Hang on.”

He hears her say something to his siblings then her attention seems to come back to him. Slowly he reaches out to touch his father.

A finger.

Then another.

His dad is crying and he can’t help.

“It’s okay, Dad, I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Nate? Are you okay?”

He puts his mum on speaker phone.

“Can you talk to Dad? He’s not talking. He’s crying..”

She’s silent.

“Am I on speakerphone?”

He nods.

“Nate?”

“Um, yes, he doesn’t have his ears in though.”

He watches his father carefully.

The marble still sitting in his palm.

“Daddy? Mum’s here. It’s okay, okay? I’m sorry,” he says, pushing the phone closer.

“Clint?”

Nate doesn’t listen to the start, he pushes the marble run away. It’s joy is gone.

He watches his father sit back at the sound of his mother’s voice.

He hears her talking.

He sits back down next to his father and draws on his hand, just like his dad usually does for him when he doesn’t feel well.

“Nate? Are you there sweetie?”

He nods.

His dad seems to be waking up, or coming back, it’s slow but there’s some signs of life.

“Nate?”

“Yeah, Mum, I’m here.”

“Are you okay?” she’s worried, he can hear it.

“I’m okay, I think… I think it’s my fault.”

“Nate, this isn’t you’re fault okay? Do you remember that Thanksgiving when Aunty Nat was here and she seemed to freeze at dinner? And you noticed, and told us she wasn’t feeling well?”

He nods. He remembers.

“But Dad already knew, he was already helping her,” he argues quietly.

“I know, but you’re going to help Dad until we get there, okay? We are on the way home.”

Nate nods.

“Can you open the window? Get a breeze in. Grab your drink bottle and see if Dad wants any, okay?”

Nate gets up and follows his mum’s ideas.

His bottle is next to the bag of marbles and again, he feels guilty.

“It’s my fault,” he says, voice shaking. “I gave him a yellow one.”

He doesn’t know the significance, but Copper was right. He made trouble. He couldn’t help it. It’s all his fault.

“It’s not your fault,” he hears his dad say.

His voice is quite and he pats the spot next to him.

“Sit with me,” he croaks, his eyes unfocused and hands shaking.

Nate obeys.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he cries.

“Nate, Clint, we’re almost home, you’re going to hear the car.”

He does, the wheels on gravel and the heaviness in the air.

He feels the difference in the world.

Drawing on his father’s hand, he can’t look up at him. He doesn’t want to see his dad cry.

He also doesn’t want his dad to see him cry.

Nate hears the front door, the slow climb of his mum’s feet up the stairs.

The door opens slowly, but it’s not his mum through the door first.

“Natasha?”

His dad’s voice is still croaky, but there’s some movement in his body.

Nate rises with him, holding onto his hand.

Aunty Nat and his mum enter his room, and immediately he feels better.

There’s some else here to help.

They’re going to help his dad.

The three adults move to Nate’s bed, quiet voices speaking words that he doesn’t care to listen to. He doesn’t really want to stay either.

Leaving the room, he takes on last look at his mum holding his dad’s hand and Natasha holding his face in her hands.

It seems almost intrusive to be there.

Adult business.

Nate leaves.

Uncomfortableness in his guts as he feels unsure of what to do next.

He plods down the stairs to get some water, the snap changed everything. Everyone was different.

Everyone felt sad all the time.

His dad, his tattoos, his siblings, even his mum who was snapped with them.

He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t understand.

Nate fixes his laces, then heads outside to the swings.

Wishing that he’d been able to go Max’s birthday, he lets himself cry as he swings.

It’s moments before his mum comes out to him, and sits on the swing next to him.

“Hey buddy,” she opens.

“Scary seeing Dad like that, huh?”

Nate nods but doesn’t answer.

“He’s seen a lot of things that make him feel sad lately. It looks like you guys were building a pretty cool marble run.”

He takes a deep breath.

“We were going to take a photo to show Uncle Tony. Dad said he’d like it, you know, while he recovers.”

He thinks back.

“It’s my fault, I gave him the yellow marble,” he confesses with a hiccup.

His mum stands, and then stands in front of where he’s swinging, stopping him and crouching so she’s at his level.

“Sweetheart. That is not your fault. You are not responsible for your dad’s reactions okay?”

She doesn’t let him swing, even though he can’t look at her.

“Do you remember, we talked about somethings that make Aunty Nat sad? That there are some times that remind her of something she doesn’t want to think about? Dad has that too, sometimes he’s better able to hide it from you guys, but today, the yellow marble reminded him of something he wasn’t ready for.”

Nate finally looks at her.

“What?”

She looks to the ground.

“There was a mission to get us all back, do you remember Dad talking about it? He got to go to outer space, yeah?”

Nate nods.

He likes the story of the spaceship in outer space, with Rocket the Raccoon and the search for the stones to bring everyone back.

He digs his feet into the dirt.

“Was it something in outer space?”

His mum nods.

“There was something your Dad and Aunty Nat had to find, but to find it, they had to do something dangerous.”

Nate narrows his eyes.

“How dangerous?”

His mum swallows.

“Aunty Nat, technically… she died… so they could find it.”

His mum stands, and moves back to the swing.

“But mum, Aunt Nat is here, you went to pick her up?”

The swing in silence for a bit, and Nate watches the shadows of people in his room.

It seems his dad is more mobile, and Aunty Nat is helping.

She’s not dead.

“I know, but your dad didn’t know that when Tony brought everyone back, that she’d come back too. The yellow marble… it reminds him that she was gone for a bit.”

Nate nods.

He understands.

He does.

Sometimes he feels sad too, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He sees Natasha and his dad enter the kitchen and he hops off the swing.

“Can I go apologise to him?” he asks, “tell him I didn’t mean it?”

His mum stands and gives him a big bone crushing hug .

“You have nothing to apologise for, okay? This is not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

She kisses him on the top of his head and they walk hand in hand back to the house.

“Mum?” he sighs heavily.

“Do you think Dad will want to play with me again?”

His mum looks down and smiles.

“I know he will.”

Nate enters cautiously, moving slowly, and looks for his dad who’s now making tea in the kitchen.

“Nate,” he greets, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

He opens his arms and Nate hugs him readily.

He was so worried.

His dad, though still moving slowly, feels better, the world feels better. He lets himself get picked up and he revels in the constant touch and reconnection.

“Some chocolate milk?”

Nate nods.

“For me too?”

He grins at his aunt. Hopping down he hugs her too.

She feels different, somehow; than before the snap, and he doesn’t ask about the scaring on her fingers and how it travels up her arms.

It doesn’t feel polite.

Maybe his dad will tell him the story of Natasha’s scars and his own tattoos one day. Maybe he’ll request it as a bedtime story.

Instead he lets himself be dragged to the table, where Natasha seats herself next to him and they watch his dad make the hot chocolate.

“I’ve got to go pick up the others,” his mum calls and Nate nods and waves.

She kisses him, then Nat and then his Dad and leaves them all in the Kitchen.

“Dad tells me you made a cool marble run,” Natasha starts, and Nate shrugs. He wants to pull it apart and never play with it again.

“It’s so big and intricate,” his Dad calls, stirring drinks.

“Should we show Nat after this?”

Nate feels hesitant.

He’s proud of what they did.

But he doesn’t want to repeat what happened.

Leaving abruptly, he runs to to his room.

Yellow marbles.

He finds the bag and pulls them out, sorting them all into colours.

A knock at the door and his dad calls his name, maybe in worry as he tells him to hold on.

He does it quickly and systematically until he finds all the yellow and puts them into their own bag.

Maybe now they can play.

He opens the door to find both adults standing there - hot chocolate in hand, and he opens it wider to let them in.

“I put them away,” he tells them.

“You put what away?”

Natasha is always quicker.

“Yellow marbles?”

“You don’t have to worry about it when we play now, it won’t make you… sad.”

He gets another hug, this time sandwiched in between two bodies.

Nate grins. He likes doing right by people.

It’s how the others find them; sitting in the bedroom playing, rotating and putting marbles down the run, moving bits and making it bigger in some sections and smaller in others.

Til dinner they play and nothing happens.

He continually checks, making sure that his Dad or Aunty Nat don’t go anywhere.

They talk of nothing and lots of things.

His dad leaves to help his mum with dinner.

Lila joins them and then Cooper.

Nate feels the day pass and even though it started as a no good kind of day, he feels like it got better.

He tells Natasha, as he lays on his bed with her, watching Cooper change the marble run to be something else.

“I have days like that too,” she tells him.

“Not every day has to be all good.”

He nods.

She’s so warm and safe that he closes his eyes to the click clack of the marbles rolling.

.

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑮𝒚𝒗𝒆𝒓 & 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒚: 𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍

Paid story for @alohomorasomnium. Word Count: 3k Warnings: swears, implied past domestic violence/abuse (slight details), stalking

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

DALTON.

*Last Night*

It was easy getting them drunk. The key was looking as if you were keeping up, as if you were drinking just as much. Brad was easier to fool, even though he was bigger than Riley; both taller and muscular. But Riley had a lot more going on in his head, he just wanted to prove himself – which always brought a man’s self-confidence down. No matter what.

  I knew these two would be the perfect lackies. One with no brains, and the other so desperate to fit in that he would do anything… But I’d have to work my way up to that first.

  Because first, I needed to make Riley feel as though he had a friend, a true friend.

“How you going?” Dalton said, leaning against the bar, Riley was awkwardly bopping his head to the music, beer in hand.

   “Huh? Oh, yeah yeah, really good-“ Riley gave a tight-lipped smile and took another sip of his beer. It was lukewarm now.

   “Wanna get outta here?” Dalton asked, bumping his shoulder against the smaller man.

“And go where?” Riley asked, eyes glued to the dancefloor, to where Brad was dancing with two women. The only two women who were attractive. The rest of the bar was half-full of twenty-somethings who had finished work.

  It was the closest bar, an hour out of Charming. They’d have to drive at least another hour to find a proper club.

   When one of the girls grabbed onto Brad’s hand and started leading him off the dancefloor, Riley sculled the last of his beer and nodded his head.

   “Yeah, lets go-“

KAELIE.

After an hour and a half of riding, Opie’s phone started to buzz. You knew, because you could feel the vibrations from his back pocket against your thigh.

   You knew you couldn’t pull it out, because even if either of you could press the phone against your ear, you wouldn’’t be able to hear the person on the other end.

 So, you let it ring out, the vibrating becoming more and more awkward as it continued on. And god, it wouldn’t let up. It made your stomach clench; it must be important. Very important.

  It had to be about Dalton.

He’d done something, he had to have, for the phone to still be ringing, every ten minutes.

  You had no idea how much longer you were going to be on the road for, but you knew next time you’d have to get Opie to keep his phone somewhere else. Because you were trying to daydream, and this was making it impossible to do so.

You weren’t going to sit here and let anxiety take hold of you. You’d had enough of Dalton and his shit. So, you decided to actively change what your mind was thinking of.

   You could feel the sweat forming on your scalp, sliding down your temple, over your forehead and it started dripping from your nose. Ew, ew, ew, you thought. Just wanting to get in the shower. You needed to stay in there and scrub yourself. God, you wished you could’ve brought all of your toiletries, but only a toothbrush, toothpaste and some make up would fit.

JAX.

 The gavel banged and the Sons left the meeting.

Half-sack was behind the bar, wiping down the bench and nodded at each of the men as they walked past.

   “You’re with us,” Clay barked at the Prospect, and he practically dropped the cloth.

Outside, Jax walked past Clay, and climbed onto his bike. He watched as Clay got onto his own, clipped on his helmet, revved his bike, and rode off. Tig, Bobby, Juice and Half-sack followed him, Tig blowing them kisses as he went.

   They were going to meet with Zobelle, see what he was about. What he had to say.

Jax and Chibs had other orders.

    “Ye right Jackie?” Chibs called out, sliding on his sunglasses and leather gloves. The sun beat down on them, hot and unyielding.

“Yeah, all good,” Jax replied back, turning on his bike and kicking the little stand into place. He waited until Chibs’ bike was rumbling to leave, and off they went.

  By the time they reached Opie’s place, both of them were soaked through. Though neither would take off their kutte. They hadn’t even thought about it. And yet, Jax still wore his long jeans, as Chibs wore long pants as well.

This was the first-time any of the Sons had visited Opie’s house without him there. It felt weird, or maybe it just felt weird not to have Opie in town. He had grown up there, hadn’t vacationed in another country, or even another state. Even his honeymoon with Donna wasn’t too far from town.

So, it was very odd to see that the windows had been closed, the shutters down, curtains blocking anyone’s view from the outside. Even when Opie left the house, everything was open. He even left the door unlocked. (Which had freaked you out when you first started staying with him. But he explained that everyone knew it was his place. And then you explained Dalton and … he started locking everything.)

   As the two men walked up the front steps, Jax with Opie’s mail in his back pocket, had found the spare key underneath a withered pot plant, and opened the door. Opie had told him where the key was hidden – a new one that was cut only days before you both left.

Opening the door, Jax’s attention was drawn instantly to the floor, to an envelope.

 It didn’t say who it was from, but both already knew.

The yellow A3 envelope contained photos of Kaelie and Opie leaving, but more annoyingly, of the Prospect who had been trailing Dalton as well.

    “Well, that fucker is pretty good,” Chibs said as he closed the door and took a look at the photos. “Hell, Opie looks the most happy since Donna …” The Scotsman raised his brows and blinked slowly, and then looked at Jax, who just nodded.

 “That’s why I want to nail this guy. When he’s gone, Opie and Kaelie can come back. It’s what Ope deserves, after everything.”

OPIE.

All this shit with Kaelie had to stop at some point, and they would return to Charming. But for now, Opie wanted to give her some good experiences. Make a few great memories.

It was why they arrived at one of the nicest places he had stayed. With Donna. But he wasn’t going to tell Kaelie that.

  Opie could hear your voice, the awe at the large cottage. It was a bed and breakfast, a nice one too. Opie didn’t mind spending a bit more for the night, unbeknownst to him that you would pay for this one as soon as you had the chance to.

The driveway was large and had a parking lot beside the house. This time of year it wouldn’t be too busy, with people wanting to visit the beach rather than a cottage not too far from the city.

  You practically leapt from the bike, almost hurting yourself as you unclipped the stupid helmet and quickly fixed your damp hair. Once you had slung your back over your back and tied up your hair, you were glad to follow Ope into the cosy house.

  There was a large porch, with a swinging chair, and vines that seemingly wrapped and grew around every part of the house. There were bushes with flowers and gnomes that stood proudly in front of the lush garden.

   “It’s beautiful,” you said as you stood beside Opie, there was a large bell mounted beside the front door, which said ‘open,’ in pretty dainty script across the glass.

Opie opened the door and let you walk in first, and you groaned in appreciation. The air conditioner was on and stood in the middle of the room, letting the air blast you. Minutes passed as Opie checked the both of you in and asked for one bed.

There was one flight of stairs and the lovely lady from the desk, who must also be the owner, unlocked the room and handed over the key.

   Inside was breathtaking. There was a four-poster bed, with a large window overlooking the forest (luckily not the parking lot), the sunlight filtered through the window. But it didn’t heat up the room, there was a thermostat on the wall next to the door. You smiled. A giddy feeling in your stomach, and then you walked past the desk that had a mirror and you frowned.

   “I’m taking a shower,” you announced and Opie nodded, a small smile forming.

You walked into the ensuite and nearly gasped. There was actual shampoo and conditioner, proper body wash and fresh towels. In a flash, you shut the door, kicked off your shoes and undressed.

While you were in the bathroom, Opie pulled out his phone and pressed a few buttons. Within three rings, the other person answered it.

   “Hey,” Jax answered, “where are you guys? How are you guys.”

“We’re just past Lodi now, a few hours from town. I can tell Kaelie’s getting restless.”

 Opie kicked off his large boots and sat on the bed as he listened to Jax talk.

     “You guys are gonna have to come home at some point, and I have an idea-“ Off came Opie’s socks and kutte. He leaned back on the bed.

“So, you’re gonna need some leverage. And don’t worry Ope, this guy is majorly fucked up. Unser’s found some shit on him. But I thought you could find something, especially with Kaelie’s help. You’ll be able to come home.”

  “Yeah, we can do that. And I’m not surprised he’s done some fucked up shit. Any way Unser can use his actual badge and arrest this guy?” Stifling a yawn, Opie rubbed at one of his eyes.

“He needs evidence, but the right kind, and Dalton might be locked up for a while.”

Opie’s eyebrows rose, but eyes felt heavy, “shit, that’s some good news.”

   “Yeah it is, but you need to start looking. Get to a computer and look him up, maybe there’s an old report on him.”

   “Got it,” Opie said and yawned.

“I’m gonna have to go,” Jax said, another voice coming from his end, “look, I love you Ope, be safe.” And he hung up.

  That’s all Opie registered before he fell asleep.

GEMMA.

The day was hot and yet Gemma still wore her usual black. It was gonna be somebody’s funeral, she swore as she walked up the steps to the local library.

She shifted her large handbag as she walked into the airconned building. Sweat slid down her chest, and her irritability rose.

   “Hey,” she said at the empty front desk. Not caring that there were other people in the building. She fucking hated libraries. It wasn’t the books, no, she liked reading. It was the fucking audacity of the librarians coming to press their fingers against their lips and shoosh her. It happened from her childhood to the day she didn’t have to go to the fucking library anymore.

  A middle-aged woman with greying hair came out from the back. A stack of books in her hands, she hurried to the desk and smiled. “How can I help you?”

   “You got a computer?”

“Oh, yes we have a few. It’s five dollars for twenty minutes.” The woman didn’t look like a normal librarian, no pursed lips or narrowed eyes.

   “Ugh thought libraries were supposed to be free or somethin’,” Gemma scoffed, rifling through her bag to find her purse. But she hadn’t noticed how her voice had quietened.

“I know, I hate having to say that. The library is the only place you’re not expected to buy anything. But the computers are new and I don’t know I have to charge you honey,” she shrugged her shoulders empathetically.

Handing over the money, the librarian beckoned her to follow as she walked to the other end of the building. There were rows and rows of books, and then they came to an area with five computers, two of them were occupied.

   “Thanks,” Gemma said as the lady pulled out the chair, nodded and walked off.

Gemma sat down on the plastic chair and took out her glasses and a piece of folded paper with Dalton’s full name, date of birth and old childhood address. She typed it into the search bar and clicked enter.

KAELIE.

The shower was more than pleasant. The pressure was perfect; you were in there for forty-five minutes.

  Stepping out and wrapping the towel around yourself, you squeezed the excess water from your hair, dried yourself and re-dressed. Wiping a hand over the fogged mirror, you stared at yourself for a few moments. There seemed to be a sunkissed glow from your face and neck, and you spotted a few more freckles. Those hours riding in the sun did more than just make you sweaty and give you a sore back.

   You french-braided your hair and walked into the bedroom. Even the carpet felt nicer than the motel’s. It felt … plusher. Wiggling your toes, you opened your mouth and then heard a very small snore coming from the bed.

   Tilting your head to the side, you put your glasses on and took a few steps. The giant form of Opie lay half on the bed, his feet still on the ground. But he was too far into dreamland to bother to move.

   “Hmm,” you said and walked over to him.

Opie Winston looked so much younger when he was asleep. Even with the beard. There was an innate serenity that seemed to emanate from him, especially when he was asleep. Like it was radiating from him.

  You noticed his kutte and picked it up. It had some weight to it, unexpectedly. You moved it to the chair, displaying it, giving it its own seat.

   Then you moved his boots and tucked his socks inside them. You hadn’t thought of how exhausted he must be, and chastised yourself for it.

   “Hey,” you said lightly. You thought about moving his legs around but decided against it, thinking of possible injury.

  He didn’t move, so you lightly shook him.

“Yea-huh?” Opie said groggily, and blinked slowly.

     “You fell asleep like this, do you want to get into a more comfortable position?” You whispered, trying to keep Opie as …sleepy as possible.

   “What? Oh, I fell asleep?” He said starting to sit up.

“No no, lay back down, everything’s okay. Just move up,” you leant down and gently grasped his legs, and he understood.

   “Thanks,” he said with a yawn and did as you said.

Smiling as he nestled on his side, you went over to your bag to get out a book.

DALTON.

It had to be apart of the plot for me to look hungover, so I didn’t comb my hair as usual and rubbed my eyes before walking into the break room. It was empty except for Riley, who looked green and was slumped over in his chair.

   “I feel fucking terrible,” I announced as I walked in and plunked down on the seat closest to Riley. His eyes shot to me and the movement seemed to upset him more.

 “You don’t look that bad,” he remarked, and I heard his stomach gurgle. Lightweight, I wanted to bark at him. They had left the bar well before one am, and Riley had been babbling about how much he hated Brad, hated his mother and … his life. God, he was going to be an easy target.

It was then that Brad walked in, a swagger in his steps, “morning gentlemen,” he said with a smirk. His blonde hair was as windsept as always, and as loaded with hairspray as always.

  I heard Riley make a slight noise, almost like a whimper, and he ran out of the room, clutching his stomach.

    “Oh shit,” Brad said, and took Riley’s seat, “he doesn’t look good.” The words were said without concern and with slight amusement.

“He said he drank,” I murmured, squinting. Brad only grunted, and sat back, that smirk still on his face. Okay, I’ll bite.

    “Where’d you end up?” I asked, taking a sip out of my water bottle.

“Those two chicks I left with? Yeah, went back to one of their places and we fucked,” he said shamelessly.

   This fucking guy.

“No shit, wow, I’m impressed,” I put as much pep as I could muster into my reply. What a fucking liar, he saw him get back in his car and leave from the window.

  “Yeah, I think one was a virgin,” he coughed, and nodded. As soon as Peter walked in he sat up straight.

   “Morning ho- where’s Riley?” Peter started then stopped, his eyes flickering between Brad and I.

GEMMA.

 ‘This kid is fucking insane,’ Gemma mumbled, scrolling through the article she’d found.

It had taken a half-hour to find something solid, but she had found it, nonetheless. Unser had given her the dates and names of people, places, and towns – and she nearly jumped from her chair when she everything corroborated.

After reading that article, it didn’t take long for another one to stand out. One had truly horrified Gemma.

It was a fire. A deadly one.

  Three people had perished in the fire. Well, two people and a baby.

The source of the fire couldn’t be found, but police say it had been purposefully lit. The whole house had burned, utterly and completely, to the ground. The sole survivor was the foster teen who was unnamed for safety reasons.

   “Could he be in the Juvenile records?,” Gemma asked herself, taking off her glasses and leaning back in the chair.

She crossed her arms and closed her eyes. There was a dirty feeling, like oil in the pit of her stomach, or like a thousand eyes were staring at her bare body.

  ‘God, a baby,’ Gemma thought, and her mouth went dry.

[daceydeath]

Gentle Saviour

pairing: bang chan x reader word count: 3k genre: angst and fluff with the barest speck of suggestiveness at the end

------

you have always dealt with insecurities and having a family life where your sense of worth is questioned leaves you with issues, good thing you have bang chan and his selfless support of you.

----- a/n: written entirely in lower case. also not totally edited so there may be some grammatical errors but i'm dyslexic so i mess spelling and grammar up sorry.

insecurity was something you had always dealt with. being run into the ground because of what you wanted, asked for or often even how you were made you constantly hyper aware of your flaws. the fact that it was usually at the hands of people you loved, trusted and adored made it all the worse, conditioning you into someone who could rarely ever trust that the people around you or whatever praise they may send your way. it made your relationship with yourself and others more difficult than it ever needed to be often leading to fights, tears and breakdowns. you felt isolated from the happiness you saw around you. resenting those who managed to feel happy with their lives.

meeting chan had only made it harder for you in some ways. He was so kind, so sweet and far too good a person to be wasting his time on you but he did and he always insisted he had no place he would rather be than with you. you had met by accident when he ducked into a small cafe to avoid photographers who were tailing him. looking for a place to sit that was out of the way he plopped himself down into the last table in the back corner half covered by the indoor plants that made the decor seem more homely. not noticing a bag already sitting on one of the chairs that you had left when you went to order your iced honey latte. when you approached the table it had surprised you to find him there but he had quickly apologised a look of guilt crossing his face as he planned where he could next hide. in an unexpected move on your behalf you had invited him to stay where he was you were only going to be reading anyway it didn't matter if there was another person with you. he had thanked you repeatedly his adorable dimples and smile lighting up his face. he seemed nice you had thought before retreating back into your head. when he felt it was safe to leave he did but not without thanking you again and sliding a note into your belongings with his name, a number and an email hopeful you would contact him.

that day had been a little over a year ago and although it had taken you a day to pluck up the courage to text him it had been a fateful decision that had turned your life around. at first it had just been texts back and forth then after a week or so he started calling you which was pleasant, his voice seemed to always melt away the stress you felt in your everyday life. after a month though he finally had some free time to actually catch up with you so you had leapt at the chance to actually see him, even if it was a little strange since all of your contact had been via your phone, he made you feel like you had been friends for years. made you feel safe and cared for and very quickly you had fallen for him.

"what are you thinking about" his voice bringing you back to the present to the quiet park you sat in together "you have been spacing out for a while now are you feeling alright?" he waited for your eyes to meet his before placing the back of his hand on your forehead to check your temperature

"im alright chan i'm just tired" you explained slowly smiling at him and he took his hand back and ran it through his blue hair "mum has just been really hard on me lately and my brother is alway on her side. it gets exhausting to be honest with you" chan furrowed his eyebrows are he frowned he knew you had a hard home life but it was increasingly oblivious that you were struggling more than you ever had

"what is it about this time? if you don't mind me asking that is" chan had always tried to get the details from you without pushing too hard he knew that would make it worse for you and he would never want that besides you were one of the the only people he knew that wasn't in the industry or family he wanted to keep you as close as he could. you gave him perspective, kept him grounded in a way that no one else did you were very special to him.

"just my life decisions nothing i do is ever good enough, my job doesn't pay enough, my education isn't good enough, i'm not smart enough and that i will never be pretty enough to marry well. just the usual really" you explained glumly "it's getting harder for me to ignore it nowadays it's just all the time i can't take much more of it"

"then don't" the blue haired boy exclaimed "come back to the dorm with me. just for the night the boys love you and i can totally stay on the couch or the floor" his quick verbal deluge surprised you. you had never stayed the night with chan you had fallen asleep on his shoulder watching movies before but he always woke you up and made sure you got home safe "on top of that your job isn't permanent you can get another one if you like and you are gorgeous so dating son't be hard for you"

"i can't do that what if someone at the company found out or worse one of those psycho fans of yours" your head was almost spinning at the suggestion you would love to stay at chan's for the night if you were honest you would love to stay with chan forever. he unwittingly had made you fall in love with him so soon after you met that you could never bring yourself to even imagine being with someone else preferring to be alone than with a guy who wasn't him. you were so caught up in the possibility of what could go wrong you had totally missed him calling you beautiful.

"yes you can and you will im not giving you the option tonight. you will come for dinner and a movie and then it will be too late and dangerous for you to go home so you will have to stay. the guys will back me up on this so don't make me call them" he was already texting the group chat to let them know what was happening. you sighed you knew that determined look chan was wearing on his face and it was pretty much impossible for anyone to change his mind once he decided that strongly something.

'ok chan if you're sure it will be ok" you agreed tentatively watching as his phone lit up with endless comments from the boys. felix was already starting on chocolate chip cookies for you all, lee know was asking about your food preferences and jeongin wanted to know what kind of movies you liked. they were darlings all of them and it almost hurt how grateful you were for them. getting to your feet you followed chan back towards the dorm being careful to keep enough space between you that no one could get the wrong idea.

you arrived at the dorm with chan after stopping to pick up a few ingredients that lee know needed for the dinner he had planned it was almost coming together so smoothly that you would have thought they had pre-planned this whole getting you to the dorm thing between them earlier. walking in you were quickly swamped by felix and changbin for cuddles as chan disappeared and while hyunjin made some tea for everyone.

"hyung said that you were having a bad day" seungmin stated quietly handing you a mug of the fesh hot tea

"thank you minnie i am not the best right now" you smiled up at him taking the warm mug in your hands

"do you want to talk about it?" felix whispered cuddling up to your left side

"it's just family stuff lixie i don't want to bore you all" you explained gently as each of the guys sat down around you with cups of tea "this i delicious tea jinnie" you murmured as you savour the flavour of the tea mixed with honey and warm milk

"it's not boring if its upset you" jeongin said as comforting as possible his voice soft and warm as he pouted at you. you thought about it for a moment as you felt several pairs of eyes on you as chan returned from his room and plopped himself down on your right side his arm instantly falling onto the back of the arm behind your head as he placed a black hoodie on your lap

"you said you were cold when we were getting here but since you haven't got anything with you just wear mine" he explained to answer the unsaid question on your lips smiling you detaingled yourself from felix and slipped it over your head. it was easily a few sizes too big for you since chan wore his hoodies on the oversized and baggy side anyway and it made you feel almost shy to be so small in his clothes.

"thanks channie" you whispered almost too quietly to hear feeling quite overwhelmed by the kindness they were all showing you. tears pricked your eyes and you blinked quickly trying to fend them off before any of them noticed even though you knew it was foolish they always noticed.

"nope no tears baby" Han announced as he launched across the coffee table to grab as many skzoos as he could before throwing them at you comedically. you giggled as you were battered around the head by a wolf chan and puppym while a bbokari sailed passed you and his chan in the face "sorry hyung but this is an emergency" he ducked but then continued to thow the plushies until all of them were around you or on you.

"my mother and my brother spend all their time trying to run me down. its getting harder to ignore that's all" you explained looking and the jiniret in your hands "my job isn't good enough, i'm not smart enough, i'm not educated enough and i'm not pretty enough to get a rich husband. which by the way is the stupidest thing i have ever heard i don't want a rich husband, if i ever got married i would want a nice husband not a rich one who even cares that much about money" your frown deepened as you started to vent to the boys around you "besides i don't even date so there isn't going to be a husband" you finished grumbling picking up leebit from the floor and smoothing out the fur. the boys all looked at you with shock then each other and finally chan before all talking over each other

"who cares what job you have you are still young"

"you are way pretty who even says that to their own daughter? you are the prettiest noona"

"your brother is a jerk if he thinks you are stupid, you are super smart"

"your mum really only worries about money?"

"i need to figure out how long to set the air fryer to cook them both!"

"you don't need a rich husband you have us to look after you"

"what do you mean you don't date why not you're so beautiful?

you teared up again but this time out of happiness they all looked so offended on your behalf and you couldn't help but feel loved and cared for by them. it warmed you knowing that these were the type of guys you had befriended these sweet boys who would always try to lift you up and look to help you with anything.

"why don't you date?" chan repeated slowly glossing over the fact that it was the second time today he had called you attractive to your face. you blushed the dark pink quickly racing across your cheeks and down onto your neck.

"there is no one i like" you replied softly hiding your face behind the sweater paws you had from the hoodie he had lent you

"Oh really? i would say that there is from that reaction" felix teased bumping your shoulder with his which in turn caused you to bump against chan's warm chest

"hey, hey, hey, hey less teasing more being nice you lot" chan playfully admonished enjoying the feeling of you leaning against his chest. you had yet to re-adjust yourself and he would take any moment of you being this close to him.

"ok if you are feeling better maybe you could help chan and i in the kitchen with dinner?" lee know asked trying to further distract the conversation away from your embarrassment as he and chan both stood up

"of course i'll help i don't like to freeload of you" you missed chan's warmth against your side but easily accepted his hand to help you stand leading you back through the room passed the dining table to the kitchen he didn't let your hand go. which also didn't go unnoticed by the others, each smirking at each other as they all realised that you wanted chan probably as much as they knew he wanted you. after chopping vegetables, making rice and helping lee know grill meat you all sat down together for your meal. the boys complimenting you and lee know on the food while chan just let the acknowledgement of his efforts slide knowing the praise would help you feel happy. after helping clear the table changbin organised han, seungmin and jeongin to wash the dishes while felix got out the cookies he made earlier in the afternoon and helped make hot chocolate with hyunjin while chan took you back through to the lounge to pick a movie. you settled on a marvel film to hopefully appease all of them.

"thanks for thinking of us but squirrel and i were going to go for a run after dinner" changbin apologised after to you looked up at him with worried eyes

"that's true i lost a bet and this is my stupid punishment" han whinged playing up the whole situation as changbin dragged him up the hallway to change into workout gear

"lix, jinnie and i are going to work on some choreography at the studio tonight so that we have something to show our manager for the comeback in a few months" lee know explained which you nodded to instantly

"oh of course if you need to work i don't want to hinder you but please don't overwork yourselves" you replied guiltily not wanting to hold up their schedules more than you probably already had. they each grabbed a bag and made there way out of the dorm followed not long after by changbin and han. finally jeongin and seungmin left to their own dorm to do a vocalracha vlive leaving you alone with chan.

"i guess it's not a movie night then" you muttered reaching for a cookie that had been put on the coffee table along with the hot chocolates that were left for you. chan sighed he realised that the boys had made these excuses to give you some privacy without wanting to let you know that they were giving you privacy so chan knew he had to make the best of it.

"we can still watch a movie or we could play a video go or just talk whatever you like" chan started softly "or we can just go up to my room to hangout" he trailed off looking at you warmly.

"chan can i ask you something and you won't think less of me?" the apprehension in you voice obvious to chan

"of course you can i will always support you, you're one of my closest friends" he answered immediately trying to calm himself for the possibility that this question could cause him or you pain. he watched you take a deep breath letting it out slowly as if to steel yourself for his answer

"did you mean it when you said i was beautiful earlier?"

"yes" chan breathed out instantly "i meant it when i said you are gorgeous earlier today too" he watched as your eyes widened in shock meeting his and you gasped sharply. in the few second he gave you to comprehend what he said he realised you were not unhappy with his compliment you were in fact very pleased with it. making up his mind he quickly cupped your cheek in his warm hands before leaning in to place his lips tentatively on yours this kiss soft and short but still incredibly sweet. your eyes had still been open he was sure of it but when your fingers slowly rose to your face to touch your lips you smiled brightly

"chan" you sighed softly feeling as though you must be dreaming silly grin on your lips as you blushed all the way to your ears "i have wanted to kiss you for so long would you kiss me again?" chan's heart soared as he realised what you were saying nodding emphatically he connected his lips to yours once more this time letting you kiss him back before deepening it until you were both out of breath. coming up for air he watched the dreamy expression on your face and knew there was only one more thing he had to say before this night lead you both to whatever destination fate had for you.

"please stay here with me and be mine, dont go back to your family stay here with this family stay here with me" he knew he sounded as though he was pleading even begging but he didnt care he wanted you only you. "i love you baby and i swear i'll take care of you forever" you felt as though your heart would burst from his confession knowing that he was putting on the line right here and now for you. you pulled him back to you to place a searing kiss on his lips.

"i love you too chan and i'll stay for as long as you want me" your words coming straight from your heart amazing you how right they felt to say

"always then" chan whispered taking you hand and leading you to his room.

[floral-force]

Code of Honor - Chapter 9

Shot and Chaser

din djarin x fem!reader, bounty hunter!reader

summary: Going on an adventure in search of a good time has never ended like this before. But, maybe it isn't all that bad.

warnings: all my fics are 18+ (MDNI); special note for vomit/throwing up because of alcohol, heavy drinking, canon-typical violence, sleazy men

words: 3k+

read on ao3 | series masterlist

previous | next

PART 1: YOU

You slammed the empty shot glass on the bar top, smiling and wiping your chin. The man on your left guffawed, his palm slapping the counter, the bang startling you and some nearby patrons. You met his eyes and smiled coyly, biting your lip and sliding the empty glass to him.

“You want another already, honey?” he slurred, leaning into your space, close enough for you to finally make out the color of his eyes—icy blue.

“Duh!” you exclaimed, and you swayed on your bar stool as he waved the bartender over for a flagon of spotchka. 

He hadn’t been your first choice, but the cantina was—as you’d expected—relatively quiet, and he had been the first to bite—the first to be bold enough to try to flirt with you. His features were all edges and ice, his lean build taking up less space than most of the other men in the cantina. If anything, his ego filled the lower-level cantina, and as soon as he started boasting about his supposedly successful business in trading some fringe form of currency, you knew you could ensnare him with little effort. So far, you’d only paid for your first shot, and the rest was building up on the tab he’d opened after you flashed him your signature sultry smile.

“This all for me?” you gasped, placing your hands over your chest.

“If you can kriffin’ drink it all.” He licked his lips and cocked his head to the side.

You raised your eyebrows and leaned towards him. You took the neck of the flagon in your hand, glancing at the blue liquid sloshing around inside, your eyes darting back to his.

You realized how much easier it was to read someone when they weren’t hidden by a stupid helmet. At least you could see this man’s intentions.

“You’re serious, babe?”

He nodded and smiled wryly. “I’d like to see you try.”

You puckered your lips and set the flagon down, opening your knees and placing your hands on his—an action that never failed to completely entrance any man unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of your charm. Fuck, he’s bony, you thought, forcing yourself to lean in more. 

“Let’s make it a bet,” you declared. “If I drink it all, I stay on your tab.”

“And if you don’t?”

You shrugged, rubbing his forearm. “What d’you want, baby?”

He looked you up and down, running a cold finger across your cheek. “I think I’d like to take your pretty lil’ ass home.”

You grinned at him and batted your lashes, pretending to act flattered. “I think we both win whether I drink it all or not.”

“If you say so, honey.”

All part of the game, you thought as you picked up the flagon under his vigilant gaze. All too easy. You made eye contact with him as you lifted the flagon into the air, throwing a cheeky smile at him before closing your eyes and placing it on your lips, preparing your body for the spotchka you were about to chug, just as you had hundreds of times before with men who thought they’d be lucky like him. The spotchka always burned going down, but the trick was clenching your fist and sitting up straight. Appearance was everything in the games you played as much as strategy was. 

You tilted your head back with the flagon, catching the last remaining drops. You cheered, raising your arms over your head, and you opened your eyes to see the man you’d swindled shaking his head and clapping. You set the flagon down and wiped off some rogue liquid that had collected on your chin and lips with the back of your hand. 

“Very fuckin’ impressive, honey. I didn’ peg ya for the drinkin’ type.” He flagged down the bartender for another flagon and two shot glasses, filling them both and handing one to you. “Let’s do a cheers.”

“Cheers to what?”

“Cheers to that mouth an’ throat a’ yours,” he slurred, his signature slick smile spreading across his face as he raised his glass and downed his spotchka.

You followed suit, glad to see the spotchka was beginning to strangle him like it was you. Just because you’d done this scam hundreds of times didn’t mean you’d gotten any better at tolerating the vicious blue alcohol. No matter what you did or how much you battled it, it always bit back, it always fought, it never went down easy. Your head already felt comfortably light, your defenses relaxed. 

“How the kriff d’you do that little trick a’ yours?”

Another shot of spotchka rammed into the back of your throat, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue. Your speed caused you to be sloppy, spilling some of the precious blue liquid on the counter and your pants. You giggled sheepishly, dragging your hand across your lips.

“I bring the thing to my lips, pour it into my mouth, and swallow,” you slurred, resting your elbow on the bar top, fiddling with your empty glass as you stared into the pair of icy blue eyes in front of you.

He shook his head and refilled your glass, then his. “I know that part, honey. But how?” He downed his shot, then looked back at you. “None a’ my mates can do what you did.”

“Well,” you sighed, sitting up straight again, “Maybe there’s a reason why they can’t, but I can.”

You winked and took your shot to the sound of his laughter. You noticed the flagon was empty again, and your unlucky participant noticed you pointing it out. Just as he had before, he motioned for another flagon to be brought over. You snatched it as soon as the bartender set it down, drunkenly grinning at your victim.

“Wanna see me do it again, baby?” you asked, creeping your free hand up his thigh and yanking it back to your lap before he could grab your wrist to direct it to the location he desired.

“You fuckin’ bet I do,” he said under his breath. “But let me take a shot for myself first, honey.”

You handed the flagon over, playfully rolling your eyes and swaying with the music playing in the background. It was some upbeat tune, but the notes had started to bleed together in a lovely, drunken chaos, and you barely noticed that you weren’t swaying in time with the beat. An image of the man in beskar dancing to the music flashed into your mind, and you giggled, then shook your head to rid it from your head.

The glass flagon was thrusted back into your hand, and you sighed, rolling your shoulders back.

“I wanna bet again. I love a competition.”

He lifted his sharp chin. “Drink it all, and we can keep goin’. If you don’, then I think we oughta go back to my place.”

“Done.” You scooted your barstool over closer to him, close enough that you could lean forward and brush your lips against his short, platinum blond hair. “Watch closely, maybe you’ll get my trick.”

“Oh, baby, I think I got it already, but I never turn down a show from a pretty woman,” he remarked.

You clenched your fist, straightened your back, and forced the spotchka into submission.

The icy blue eyes were wide when the empty glass hit the counter with a wham, your triumphant laughter clashing with the music. 

“Wo-on again!” You hollered and laughed, hopping off your seat and shaking your hips side to side, closing your eyes, and jumping around.

“Kriff, we dancin’ now?” 

You opened your eyes to see him slide off his seat and close the distance between you, closer than you’d normally let one of your victims get to their unattainable prize. But the music was so infectious, and the late-night crowd had picked up since you entered, and you weren’t the only one dancing wildly to the music. You didn’t even mind how his hands came to rest on your hips and how he was staring at you with drunken hunger in his ice-cold eyes. You didn’t bother to think about how he could creep his hands higher or lower—the high of a blue liquid win carried you above ever considering losing the competition you started.

After you smeared red all over your ship’s control panel, losing had never been an option. No amount of bright blue spotchka had ever changed that, and no man—no matter how thin or broad—would ever change that.

PART 2: DIN

The old lady’s vague directions made finding the cantina an irritating task, but luckily the village was small and designed on a basic grid, so Din didn’t have to wander too far or too long to find what he needed. The entrance for it was a short set of stairs leading to a steel door that slid open when he walked up to it. 

Inside, music blared, the bass vibrating up through the soles of his boots to his feet, and people danced, keeping their drinks close to their bodies as they moved wildly and out of sync, a sea of bodies that he had to part. Colored lights flashed from the ceiling, the only thing illuminating the bodes in the dark aside from the ones that lit up the bar in the back of the cantina. One of the perks of his armor was the way it cut through crowds without him even needing to ask anyone to move. All he had to do was decide where he wanted to go and his armor did the rest. 

Under the helmet, his eyes scanned the many faces in the sea, his brow furrowed as he approached the bar. When a sweaty bartender approached him, he shook his head and waved his hand, signaling his disinterest without words. They were more than happy to attend to the drunken girl next to him that demanded another drink, too intimidated by the Mandalorian. 

He decided to stay close to the bar, one of his hands skimming the bar top as he stalked along, eyes still searching for his target. He was used to having to sift through crowds; it was nothing new to him. For some reason, though, he felt his heart racing, his nerves on edge, making him jump and reach for his blaster every time some drunk bumped into him and muttered a quick “sorry” before scampering out of his way. 

His eyes settled on a pocket of gyrating bodies, landing on a person with short platinum hair that took on the flashing, colored lights of the cantina. Dancing—no, propped against him, was her, the woman he’d been searching for. She had a drunken smile plastered on her face, her eyes closed as they smiled maliciously, whispering things into her ear that she probably didn’t understand. Din’s mouth went dry and he clenched his fists as he took in the sight of her arms resting on the person’s shoulders. He barely noticed how great her ass looked in the pants she wore, distracted by the red he saw when he noticed the person’s hands gripping it. In one of her hands was an empty bottle, and that was when Din began his march over to where they stood, one gloved fist already prepared to throw a punch.

Din snatched the empty bottle out of her hand and she slowly lifted her head. “Huh?” she mumbled, Din barely hearing it over the music.

The person turned their head, their eyes widening at the sight of Din. Under the helmet, Din scowled at him, his heart pounding under his beskar chest plate. 

“Let her go.”

“Hey, Mandalorian,” they sneered, spitting the word out as if it was something dirty. “She’s mine. Go find some other broad.”

His helmet quirked to the side. “Or what?”

He barely noticed fear flash in the person’s icy blue eyes before they spat, “Or else I’m gonna have to kick your shiny ass.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Din snarled.

Before the person could do anything, Din snatched her with one arm out of the person’s weak grip, pulling her against his chest before planting his feet and throwing a punch to the person’s face. There was a crack, then a howl of pain as the person fell to the cantina floor, causing the people around them to gasp in a ripple, looking from the floor to Din, who stood tall above the icy person as they cried out. Din could see blood gushing onto the concrete, the person’s hands stained with it. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.” Din kicked him in the stomach, and someone screamed, the music stopping. He looked down at the girl he had curled against his chest, shrinking into the embrace of his arm. “Can you walk?”

She looked up at him, squinting and barely registering his question. He didn’t have time to wait for her answer; when he heard yelling headed in his direction, he swept her into his arms and broke into a run for the door, the drunken sea parting easily for him and making his exit that much easier. 

As he ran through the streets, taking random turns and snaking through alleys, he felt her stir against him. He glanced down at her a few times, and his gaze lingered on her just a moment longer when he felt one of her hands reach up and grab onto the top of his chest plate, her hand barely hanging on to it.

She was weak, and he could use it to his advantage. Toss her into her ship, set the auto-nav up for Nevarro, and never look back. The bounty would be all his; he wouldn’t have to worry about her soft, smug face interfering any longer.

“Dank ferrik.” 

He groaned as he ran into the forest, heading for where his ship was parked in a clearing within it. Din weaved through the trees, pausing only when he heard her murmur something so quiet and slurred that he couldn’t quite make it out.

“What did you say?” he asked gently, fighting the urge to run a thumb across her cheek so she’d focus her eyes on his helmet instead of scrunching them closed.

“Wha…Wha’s goin’ on?” she slurred, her eyes finally opening and fluttering as she realized who he was. “Mando?”

“You had too much to drink, but you’re safe now.” He quickly glanced up and away from her confused face, breathing a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding in when he saw the Crest II not far ahead.

“I’m…safe?”

“You’re safe with me.”

He reached the ship and fumbled as he shifted her gently to press a button on his vambrace, the ramp lowering. She groaned, and he turned just in time for her to whip her head to the left and heave, liquid hitting the ground with a sickening splash that made Din’s stomach turn. He felt her body shake and convulse in his arms, and he grew panicked, realizing he couldn’t bring her inside just yet—he’d rather her do this outsidethan in. 

She hiccupped as he set her down on the ramp, making sure she was on her left side so she could direct everything off the ramp and not choke. He crouched down at her side, gingerly rubbing her right arm with a gloved hand, his other cautiously rubbing her back, cringing whenever she curled into herself with a sick sound. In his heart, he knew this was a good thing—he realized when she couldn’t support herself enough to walk that she had drunken herself into an unsafe stupor. It didn’t make it any easier to watch her body shake and her hear pained cries.

“It hurts,” she whimpered, turning her head to look at him with wet eyes, the lights within the Crest II showing him the tears that streamed down her cheeks and met at her chin.

“I know it does,” Din said, lowering himself to sit on the ramp with a grunt. 

She seemed to relax when one the hand rubbing her arm gently squeezed it, taking a sharp breath and lowering her head to rest on the ramp. Din watched her breathing slow, and he shook her, saying her name and forcing her to look at him.

“I need you to stay with me,” he stated. “You need to stay awake until I say you can rest. Got it?”

She nodded before leaning over the side of the ramp, her body convulsing once again, twisting Din’s heart into a knot. But this shouldn’t make him sad for her—he should be happy she was in pain. Shouldn’t he?

He sat like that for longer than he realized, making sure she was awake and responding to his voice and questions—What’s your name? What year is it? Where are you? How many fingers am I holding up? —and that she hadn’t thrown up for at least an hour before telling her she could finally rest. He stood up, rolling his shoulders out before gently scooping her limp body into his arms, carrying his enemy into his ship, laying her down gently in his rack, cautiously wiping her cheeks and chin with a towel. He dragged a crate over to sit and keep watch in case anything happened while she snored softly, the blanket he’d draped over her sleeping form rustling whenever she adjusted in her sleep.

Din leaned back against the metal pole behind him, crossing his arms. The sight of her in some other person’s arms made him see red, made him throw a punch so hard that he’d broken their nose—a show of strength he reserved for the quarries that put up a considerable fight, not drunken idiots. The sight of her had incited not only frustration, but a twist in his gut that begged for his attention. She commanded his thoughts whenever she entered them, and maybe her arrogance worked in her favor tonight, and maybe she’d be too weak when she woke up to try anything. 

Din fell asleep with his blaster in his hand, just in case. You could never be too careful when dealing with a pest like her.

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@charlottetownwaffles @theamuz @jellybeanstacey0519 @elinedjarin @maddiedrmr @kaqua @tortor-mcgee @tizylish @spxctorsslxt @kalea-bane @hardlystrictlystarwars @fairy-tale-writer

[vampzzi]

IDENTIFY VAMPIRE?? 一 ♡ ﹒﹒﹒NICK X VAMPIRE! READER

CW; Reader is black and agender, Readers genitals is not specified, Eventual smut (in chapter 2), reader is of age and is 19 whilst Nick is 20 years old, reader is turnt into a vampire, mild desc of gore/blood, belief mentions of sex in this chapter, hypersexual reader, reader has a darker aesthetic to them (kinda...), you know Emma, Max and Laura before The Quarry, Non-Beta Read

⌗ → PART 1 ﹒﹒ ﹒ PART 2 (in the works) ﹒﹒﹒PART 3 (Bonus)

<3 ; 3K WORDS,, takes place during the ending of readers closing highschool year shifting into the summer of them now going to college

The end of highschool was smooth, you finished with a decent amount of credits not enough to be seen as the smartest person ever but just enough to pass highschool as an average. Your skin shivered as your mind held the flashback of sitting in a cold classroom, clutching onto your jacket while you disassociated from what the professor was saying as a few tears hit the paper from how cold you were. Could you blame your eyes from watering? No, but it didn’t help either the tears ran down your cold cheeks, stringing your skin as you sighed out. 

You shook your memories away as you laid in bed, your roommate had nagged you on to do something exciting for summer instead of rotting away in your room like the lazy bum you were, wait ouch, that’s too harsh you just didn’t wanna leave the comfort of your home for your own sake. You rather lay in your room with the air down to a reasonable temperature while your laptop was open to some random smut, sketchbooks open on the bed, half naked in bed with one of your legs out on top of the covers. Ass out and everything who cares it’s the comfort of your own home. But nooo, you had to do something to occupy yourself or you’d wake up at 3:15AM listening to your roomates loud moans, as the bed smacked against the wall while you the smell of sex flowed through your vents and made you cringe in your sheets.

You hated listening to the loud “I love you’s” while the sound of bed banging got louder, sometimes you’d hear your walls crack wondering if one day they’ll fuck the bed through the wall, it made you sick. You had been single for the longest time. You'd tried to stay in relationships but they always left you because you were “too much” for them to handle. Whatever the fuck that meant as you harshly grabbed one of your comfortable pillows and pulled it over your face as you yelled into it, the muffled sounds of screaming only ringing through your ears, taking the pillow off your face you looked at the ceiling. When would you find your true love, you could really use a shining night and armor in your bed right now maybe not even having sex with you just kissing your neck to your collarbone, sweet love you’s. 

That’s all you ask for, why is it so hard to achieve that? Who fucking knows dude.

Picking your phone up off the night dresser as it was charged up as you yanked the charger out, the stupid thing only worked at an angle anyways and it pissed you off so much. As you opened up you saw Laura and Max on your feed, you had been with them during your highschool days thanks to late study nights with Laura you passed the scieney part of your report with flying colors. Seeing them making dancing tiktoks and enjoying their life made you fucking sick, seeing them feed each other food and then a quick peck made you shut yout phone down and toss it as you sat up quickly to inspect it and make you didn’t break it as you let a harsh breath.

Your lovely best friend Emma posted about working at the Hackett’s Quarry this summer and you gulped you had heard all kinds of crazy shit about that place, the lady who haunted the place looking for her lost son and turning anyone she saw fit into her son. The mysterious fire, the saviors, everything. You’ll never forget the day your friend said she’d plow Travis Hackett and oh my gee, you’d have to agree with them. He was on campus one day and my friend and I wanted to drop dread when we saw him. Telling his heroic story that was life changing for the name “Hackett’s Quarry”.

Omg, I should tell the story of how I met Emma. Eh, that’s a side story but some crazy shit happens between you two that can be told later on cause you’re too tired to talk about it in your mind. You bundle yourself into your covers and close your laptop as you yawn and lay your head into your soft pillow, looking at the ceiling as your eyes get too heavy for your own body as they shut close and you black out into a deep slumber before your eyes burst open and you grab your phone with a painful grip to mankind as you stare at the time “2:06AM” lovely.

 You could read some smut until you fall asleep, as you open your browser and switch to incognito mode typing in your favorite characters name before clicking enter and scrolling through the fics to read. “F!vampire reader x (insert character) NSFW!!” ugh, why is it female reader always and she’s always described as a basic white girl, blonde straight hair, ocean like blue eyes and plump ass kylie jenner lips. You don’t mind female readers but you don't consider yourself female, you consider yourself as just an agender human being in the world.

Gender neutral smuts were cool but they always had female genitals but here’s the thing: your genitals were just genitals, something that could suck in a cock and grip it forever could be your ass or your pussy who knows? You clicked onto the smut anyways and read through the author’s long ass notes before continuing” “He ran his fingers through her brown silk locs while gripping her plump white hips, thrusting his cock between them while she flashed her fangs in surprise biting into his shoulder as he groaned out as the precum slipped onto his milky white thighs” 

Exactly what I mean, like are we even the reader or is this just smut for YOURSELF. Like cmon now, you shut your phone as you weren't horny anymore and more frustrated than anything, forcing yourself back into anger slumber.

“Wakey wakey (name)..it’s 8AM”

You groaned as drool was on the side of your face and you looked rough as fuck, you gulped as your throat was dry and itchy as you coughed out. “G-Goodmorning Kuron” Her curls tickled her face as the rest of her was pulled back into a silk headwrap, a satin pajama set covered her body as her beautiful black features stood tall and strong in the morning sun. “Goodmorning, (Name) !!” you said in a sing-song voice as she headed for the door “When you’re cleaned up, my darling made you some of your favorite pancakes” You nodded and cracked a small smile as the door closed and you sighed out.  They are perfect for each other, if they aren’t like Jaiden then you don’t want them. You laugh to yourself as you know you’ll take anything you can get well not just anything you’re kinda picky, maybe.

You let your cold feet hit the ice cold floor as your entire body freezes and you open your door to tiptoe to the bathroom, slamming the door gently behind you as you start the water, listening to it hit the sink as you pick up your toothbrush and begin your morning routine, wash your face, brush your teeth and floss (to be safe.). You also check if you should shave to also be safe you

never know when you’re gonna get laid I guess. Making your way out the bathroom to the kitchen as you wave at them “Goodmorning (Name)” Jaiden says to you as they have a warm smile on their face. You smile back before muttering a good morning and sitting down and grabbing the fork as you dip into the pancakes of pancakes, sticking the knife inside and cutting a piece of a taking a bite of the delicious stack of pancakes you’ve ever eaten. 

You mutter “so goods” you continue to eat the stack of flapjacks until they’re completely gone and the plate is nothing but a few drops of leftover syrup drops. “That’s was so good Jaiden, thank you so much” you hum out as you kick your legs back in n fourth as it was a habitat you had as a child, as they could only chuckle out and reply with a thank you. You got up and waved to them as you made your way back to your room as you grabbed your phone and checked to see a few texts from Emma. 

Okay so one of the pics was Emma in a bikini top, water dripping down the suit and glowing on her perfectly shaped breast as you gulped and looked at the caption “Super Fun beach day!! Streaming later for my emmanation <33” You giggled at the name “emmanation” it was such a cheesy name for her followers but you were glad she was happy,you scrolled through the messages once more before settling on “You should sign up to be a Counselor at Hackett’s Quarry with us.” Your heart hit the floorboards as you gasped out for air and looked back out the message “Hackett’s Quarry”?! Was she out of her damned mind!! But then again, you should really get out the house cause Jaiden and Kuron's honeymoon was soon and they said they were ready for and- you don’t wanna say anymore.

You texted her back…

YOU!! ; I’m down..

     READ AT 9:15AM

Emmii; Yay yay! I’m so glad you’ll be joining me this summer here’s the number to talk to Chris Hackett (XXX-XXX-XXXX) <3

YOU: Thanks Em, you’re a trooper heh get it?

READ AT 9:17 + EMMII HEARTED YOUR MESSAGE

You crack a smirk at the short conversation you two exchanged as you click from social media to your phone app, as you enter the number the exact way Emma sent it as you click the call button and let the phone ring, as you got hesitant you wanted to hang out. What if you didn’t make the cut, Emma would laugh at you for days on days. You almost clicked the end call button before a cheery males voice connected to your ears, “Hello! This is Chris Hackett, owner of Hackett’s Quarry. How may I assist you today!”. 

You froze in your tracks, trying to figure out what to say to Mr. Hackett “We-ll, M-Mr, m–my name is n-nAmE!!” you say it is broken with low soft parts, mixed with loud excited parts. He hums over the phone “Well, name, how may I assist you?”

“I was wondering if you were still accepting camp counselors” He tapped the desk as he looked at the list and smiled before returning back to you “Yes, we are! Are you interested?” “Yes. Yes I am” you responded way faster than you thought you would, “I’m gonna ask you a series of questions and then I’II see if you quantify “Yes sir.”

After being quizzed on for what felt like hours, he was finally done. “Well Name, I’m gonna have to say…” your head filled with possible answers ‘you didn't make the cut” “sorry kid, you don’t fit it” but his response shocked you. “Welcome to the Team.” Your body eased at the response, still tense but more at ease as you nodded “Thank you Sir, I’II see you in 2 days then.” “See you then kiddo”

You flopped onto the bed letting out a sigh of relief as your body reacted differently you were in relief and pure shock, you couldn't believe you had got the position, your first reaction was to calm down and then text Emma the news but instead you just decided to straight away text away, which backfired because of your anxiety and shit grammar. 

YOU!! ; I gotfj the jobd1!1!

 Read 10:24

Emma; that’s good to hear, I’m so excited to spend this summer with you.

You: same <3

 Read 10:25

Smiling as you place the floor down, you stare at the ceiling, you have 2 days to get some nice clothing, get your messy hair situated and get packed. You better head out now and oh– you get paid later today, your paycheck should hit around 6pm since the systems are down. What could you do for 5 hours until 5:30? Walking around you step on your gaming controller and you pick it up and click your tongue, maybe play some skullgirls or Detroit becomes human. You really need to get all the dbh endings so you’ll settle on that for now. Walking over to your PS4 and beginning the start it up and you drop onto the bed and flick through the small amount of games before loading up dbh, as the story progresses so does the day as the day shifts from all sunny to a beautiful orangy, yellow color with hints of red in the sky.

. ～ (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) - uh oh..name..run while you can..

Your phone dings when the timer goes off as it’s 5:30 and you decide to get off the couch, saving the game and powering off the game system as you get and stretch your body followed by a loud yawn. Making your way over to your dresser you pick out something light and simple to put on, it’s still hot and moist out and you wouldn't wanna risk it, a tank top (with a picture or not, your preference)  and some pants fit this category. You slide on your cozy shoes and grab your belongings off the night dresser and make your way out the room, Jaiden and K are sleeping on the couch while a cheesy romcom plays with the fake laughter in the background.

You open the door and step out as the cool air hits your body sending chills down your entire body as you make your way to your car, opening the door, climbing inside and starting up the vehicle. While on your way to the store, your payment was processed and it already hit your card while you were driving and humming to the tunes of your favorite song. 

As you pulled into the parking lot of the store. You step outside the car and make your way to the store, something feels off as the chilly weather blows paper bags in the wind as you walk into the store. This takes you a while to pick out clothes going through the many aisles, picking out outfits you find amazing outfits to wear as you place them in your handbasket. Making your way to the front of the store you pay for the items and making your way out stepping outside something feels extremely wrong.

As you walk to your car, open the passenger door and place your bags inside you hear a woman scream you flinch at the sound as you quickly shut the car door, now normally you wouldn't check it out but the help me and save me gets to you and before opening your door you bolt into the woods. It’s dark, wet and quiet. The sun is basically gone and it's nothing but darkness. You crunch the leaves and continue running before slowing down to catch a breath and listen to heavy breathing, seeing the corpse in front of you , you freeze but bolt something running behind you in a quiet fluid motion, something you’ve never seen before.

You don't stop, you won’t stop, you can't stop. Your body is pushing beyond it limits for your safety as you can see the lights, you push yourself faster to get into the lights of the parking lot as you drop your phone out your jacket pocket, fuck fuck fuck. Forget it, your life is more important right now. You continue to pace yourself and run. It hasn't stopped chasing you yet and it attacks you from a tree branch, gripping your hair and pushing your face into the dirty ground as you watch the little worm wiggle across the leaves as your head is hit into the ground, again and again. Blood dribbles down your nose as the vicious thing opens its mouth and licks at your bruised bloody nose, before retracting and biting you– hard.

You can do nothing but scream out for help as it muffles you by pushing your face into the pile of leaves, you can feel the teeth ripping your skin away as the blood runs down and then the cold wetness of this monster's tongue follows the trail. You can't breathe, you’re in shock and you don't know how it’s gonna get out of you. Gripping at the ground, you make your way to the rock as the monster claws at your hand, you yell out and grab the rock bashing it into the monster's head as it hits the ground running in the opposite direction while grabbing your phone before bolting off.

Your screen protector is cracked but you can't worry about that now, the only thing you can worry about is calling someone and getting help. Your lungs feel tight and like they’re on fire as you finally make it to the other side of the parking lot running to your car and unlocking it and getting inside, closing the door and locking it behind you. You want to dial the police, your roommate, anyone but people would think you’d gone crazy so what could you really do. You felt your neck as you hissed out in pure agony as it hit like hell to touch bringing your hand to the face to see the dark red crimson blood on your hands as you began to cry, you had got

attacked and barely made it out alive, All cause you wanted to be a hero, how stupid. You start up the car and get away from the store and forest, you need a story and goodnight of rest to put your panicked mind at ease. The car was pure silent as you looked into the rear mirror of your car, gulping as your body was warm and your hands trembled while you were driving, quickly getting off the road as you parked into the driveway, got the bags and went inside you sighed out as the house was dark and moaning could be heard from the other room as you let out a louder annoyed sigh. 

After a warm shower and getting the first aid kit, you're patting at the bite with some rubbing alcohol, yes it fucking burns but it’s for the better. You don't need this nasty ass bite getting infected right?? You put the bandage over the bite and lay down as you look at the ceiling once more, you're so drained out of energy it only takes one breath and you're out like a light. Little did you know, your downfall has only began,, over the course of the 1 day you spent packing, you were insanely weak, too weak for your own good as you struggled to get outside the house,getting into the car and making your way to your reversed hotel room for the night as you thought it would be a better idea to be there so you could be closer to Hackett’s Quarry.

You made your way into the hotel with your small baggage and took the key from the ladies hand as you made your way to the elevator and went to the 6th floor of the building walking through the cool halls as you unlocked the doors and walked into the fairly nice sized room. Tonight, you would rest and in the morning it's off to Hackett's Quarry Summer camp.

Author’s note; breaking this story into TWO parts because I don’t want this to be too long. You will have your smut in chapter two I promise you just give me some time lovelies <3

[egirljuices]

Among them - Chapter 1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Season 3 and onwards

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: General Walking Dead warnings, mentions of SH, SA 

Word count: 3k

Author’s note: It’s been like 6 years since I last wrote a fanfic, please don’t mind how horrible it is. Just little scenarios I’ve had in my head, while at work or sewing. Decided to put them down for anyone else to enjoy. I plan to try and write a chapter every second Thursday, or every Thursday if I can. 

»»————————-　➴　————————-««

The sounds of the trees rustling were the only sound as she trudged through the forest, quietly, following behind a man. He looked clean, for the most part, and had weapons, and looked at least somewhat fed. She knew, in that world, it meant only one thing. Safety. If this was any other time, before the shit storm happened, she would have just introduced herself. However, the last time she put her guard down around another living human… It did not end well.

She ducked further behind the dead, seeing as the man tensed up and looked around, crossbow aiming in all directions he looked. She just needed to see where he was going, but he really didn’t seem interested in the small horde of 5 or 6 dead, including her. The dead weren’t interested in her, as she hid behind one of them, they kept snarling towards the man and following behind him at a snails pace.

He slung his bow behind in his shoulder as he noticed it was just walkers, he didn’t even want to bother wasting the bullet. The herd was so small, it wasn’t worth it. His eyes traced over the walkers as he kept moving, one of them seemed different, but it still looked pale and dirty. He couldn’t see it’s face very much with the hood pulled up, but it looked freshly turned. That didn’t bode well for the rest of the group.

He walked out of the dense forest to the cracked road, and pulled off some leaves from the ditch, underneath was his bike, which he promptly picked up and put it on the road. She knew he would usually bring his bike, and knew it was going to make following him to wherever camp was a lot harder. He turned back looking into the forest at the herd slowly making their way to him one last time, noticing the odd one seemed to quickly slump over instead of stand up straight when he did so. Shaking that thought from his hand, he took off on his bike.

She quickly started running towards the way his bike went, she’s been following him for a week now since she found him here hunting. Trying to figure out where he went back to all the time, scope out the place and decide if she was well enough to try and get in with the man’s group. She thought she must be closer, now, as usually she lost him before he even got on his bike, she didn’t even know he used one.

As the sun disappeared behind the horizon of trees and the air became crisp with the night, she finally stumbled upon it. Staying hidden in trees, she watched as she saw a huge concrete structure, surrounded by fences. There was no dead in the fences, just outside, banging on the metal to attract more, desperate to get in. She pulled out her binoculars from her bag, which she had hidden when the hunter came around and peered down to the yard of concrete. She couldn’t see anyone, surprised by them having no watchers. She noticed the tall tower on the left and averted her eyes to it. She saw a man and a woman sitting beside each other up there, smiling and talking to each other. She looked around the fences, looking for an opening and noticed the fence looked different in one spot, almost as if had been cut open before and stitched together with a different metal. Slipping the binoculars back in her back, she slung it over her shoulder and readied a hang on her throwing knives rested around her thigh. She didn’t plan to hurt anyone, but she wanted to get closer and make sure they were safe before making her presence aware.  

She laid a blanket down close to the tree line. She couldn’t hear them, but she could watch them. She watched them for a couple days, seeing a baby at some point, an old man missing part of his leg and a young boy. Upon seeing them she knew they must be good people. Bad people didn’t keep the weak or young around. On the third day, the day she decided she’d approach the hunter, or even walk right up to the metal gate they left from, she saw the hunter getting on his bike to head out. Perfect timing. She was planning on just flagging him down on the road as he sped by her. She heard the rumble of the motorcycle and stepped her combat boots on the concrete, putting her hands above her head to show she was unarmed. As the bike came into view, he slowed down, a pretty significant distance between them, hastily pulling out his crossbow and aiming it at her, slowly walking towards her.

“Whatcha want?” He had a deep raspy voice, with a southern drawl to it.

She lowered her arms slightly in front of her. “I just… I just need somewhere. I bring no harm.”

He took in her form, wearing black scuffed and dirty combat boots, ripped and dirty jeans with socks over the hem, a dirty black pull over hoodie with rips and tears. She had choppy [y/h/c] hair, looking like it was cut short with knife rather than scissors, stopping just above her shoulders and her [y/e/c] eyes looked desperately at him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. “Look like a walker.” He stated.

“I am one, that’s how I survived.” She spoke lowly, she knew he heard her, but he didn’t say anything about her statement.

“Ya ‘lone out ‘ere or wha’?” He looked behind her, to his right and left, but kept the crossbow centered on her frame.

She sighed. “Yeah.”

He lowered his crossbow slightly. “How many walkers ya kill?”

“None.” She stated, stiffening a bit.

“How ya manage to kill none and survive this long?” He asked, his voice laced with confusion and doubt. Was she lying to his face?

“It’s complicated.” She scrunched up her face, her nose wrinkling and shook her head.

“How many people ya kill?” He raised his crossbow a little more, glaring his deep blue eyes at her.

She choked, her eyes glossing with tears, which she quickly blinked back. “One.”

“Why?” He took a step closer to her, confused on the answers she gave.

“I couldn’t…. I didn’t… He deserved so much more….” Her voice was soft, cracking at points, changing in pitch and her body trembled.

He lowered his crossbow completely now, resting it at his side. “We got people. A group. Yer welcome to join us, but ya got to hand over yer weapons.” He approached her cautiously.

She looked down at her throwing knives, only the three hearts on the handle sticking out. She only had 2 within arms reach. The others were in her pack. She shook her head to him. “I can’t. All I got are the knives, and they mean more to me than my life.” Her face hardened and she clamped a palm over the knife holster on her thigh.

Seeing no real danger in a couple dinky throwing knives, he shrugged his shoulders and slung the crossbow over his shoulder. “’Ight. Get on the bike, drive ya back to my group.”

She relaxed and took a couple steps closer to him. “[y/n].”

He turned to her, tilting his head, his blue eyes locking on to her [y/e/c] ones. “Daryl.”

She nodded to him and walked behind him as he swung back on his bike, and nodded to her. She sat on behind him, unsure what to do with her hands. Normally, she knew she’d hold on to him, but she felt he wouldn’t like that.

“Yer gon’ fall off. ‘Old on.” He replied to her thoughts, his words sounding more like a grumble than talking.

She wrapped her arms around his midsection and rested her head on his back. She felt him stiffen underneath her, but he started the bike anyway.

The drive was nice, feeling the wind in her hair, feeling a warm body, alive, breathing. She felt comfortable. It didn’t take them long to get back to the gate, she noticed it was the young boy in a sheriff hat opening the gate for them as Daryl drove the bike into the yard.

She quickly hopped off, her boots hitting the gravel road and looked up to immediately have the kid pointing a gun towards her. She held up her hands quickly. “Whoa, kid, I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

Daryl kicked the stand on his bike up and turned to look at the young boy. “Carl, put it down, where’s ya dad?”

“He’s coming.” The boy, named Carl, motioned up with his head, keeping his eyes trained on the woman in front of him.

Daryl and her eyes moved to where the boy motioned, seeing a man in a beige button down, with the sleeves slightly rolled up, black pants and brown boots. He jogged up to Daryl and Carl as she kept her hands up.

“Who’s this, Daryl?” He asked, squinting his eyes due to the sun, and looking over at her.

“Don’t know. Found ‘er on the road. Says she alone.” He shrugged, answering the man.

The man turned to her, “How many walkers have you killed?” he asked, softly, not as harsh as Daryl had.

“None.” She answered at the same time as Daryl grumbled it.

The man looked confused. “How…. How many people have you killed?”

“One.”

“Wh-“ He started, but she knew what he was asking.

“Because I couldn’t see him like that.” She breathed out angrily, not wanting to keep bringing it up. Fresh tears stung her eyes again, but she bit them back.

The mans jaw hardened. He stepped towards her, holding out his hand. “Rick.”

“Y/N” She took his hand, shaking it weakly.

“We should get her to Hershel, make sure she’s not bit or hurt.” Rick turned to Daryl. “You comin’ with, or going out?”

“Curious to know how she survived this long.” He spoke, turning towards the concrete prison behind them.

Rick looked to her. “Follow us, don’t try anything stupid, we’ll put you down faster than you can plan anything.” He stated and started walking a bit ahead of her.

She noticed the young boy started following behind her, rifle still held against his body and giving her a cold glare.

As they walked into the prison, Rick held up his hand in the first room they entered. “Stay here.” He commanded.

She looked around, it was a concrete room with a couple round cafeteria tables and a cage room in the corner. She had never been in a prison before, and leaned on one side of her body. The adrenaline of meeting these people was wearing off, and the lack of food or water in her system was starting to leave it’s mark on her.

Daryl seemed to notice, his hard eyes looking down at her form as her eyes looked to droop some, and he noticed just how tired she had looked. “Ya can sit down.” He said, breaking the silence after Rick left.

She turned to him at her side and smiled up at him weakly. “Thanks.” She crossed the room to the tables and sat on the bench seat of it. Biting her lip and looking over at Daryl and the boy, Carl. Her leg began to shake up and down. A nervous habit she had shared with him.

Carl never seemed to take his eyes off her, looking like she had crossed him somehow, but she could see fear in his eyes. Daryl, meanwhile, looked anywhere but her. The minutes it took Rick to come out, with the hobbling old man she’s seen in the yard, felt like hours in the silence of the big concrete room. She knew there was more people here, but they were oddly quiet, and no where to be seen.

The old man limped over to her in his crutches and smiled softly down at her. “I’m Hershel, I have medical experience and I can look you over, if you’d like.”

She felt instant comfort in his presence and nodded slowly. “I’m fine, no pain anywhere, just haven’t eaten or had water in a while.”

Rick came up behind him, passing her a bottle of water. She eagerly drank from the bottle. Setting it down on the table once she drank over half of it.

“How’d you survive killing no walkers?” Rick asked her.

She pushed her lips together and started to play with the ring on her finger. What would he say? What would he do? She thought. She realized it be better to tell them the truth now, than lie to them and them find out later. “Please don’t shoot me.” She said, breaking the silence as she thought.

“Don’t do nothin’ stupid ‘n’ we won’t.” Daryl’s rough voice spoke up. He was now stopped a little behind Rick and staring down at her.

She clenched her teeth together, “I was bit.” She waited a second, seeing Daryl raise his crossbow at her head in the exact second the words exited her mouth.

Hershel leaned back on his crutches and Rick put his hand over his python on his hip. “When?” Rick asked.

She looked up at them now, meeting Rick’s eyes. “When this first thing started.” She stated, trying to keep her fear hidden.

Rick stepped closer, stepping in front of Hershel. “How?”

“Wha’ ya sayin’, woman!” Daryl’s voice was louder now, and he glared at her, his crossbow still raised to her head.

“I’ll show you. Let Hershel look at it.” She said, calmly, trying to calm their nerves. She lifted the hoodie over her head and rested it on her lap, using one of her hands to pull down the left side of her shirt. His lasting bite left between her neck and shoulder; a nasty scarred over wound.

Hershel stepped out from behind Rick and leaned closer to her, investigating the wound. “This is fully healed, Rick.” He stood straight again, and turned to Rick. “She’s not lying, it’s the truth.”

Rick looked at the wound on her shoulder, shaking his head. “How?” He repeated.

Her mouth went dry as she frantically looked between Hershel, Rick, Daryl and Carl, who had since lowered his rifle to his side in surprise. “I… I stayed with him. I was the reason…. I was the reason… He tried protecting me… I just…. I held… I held him.” She stuttered out slowly. Tears now freely flowing down her face. She snapped her eyes down to her hands, scrunched up in the hoodie, the ring shining up at her. Mocking her. She was the reason he was dead. It should’ve been her.

“Stop.” Surprisingly, Daryl’s raspy voice called out, he swung his crossbow behind his back. “Don’t gotta talk ‘bout it if ya don’t wanna.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at the old man. “He’s right. We’re sorry, we just needed to know. You don’t have to tell us how it happened.” Hershel spoke softly to her.

Rick, however, looked at her sternly. “So, you didn’t change? You didn’t die?”

She quickly nodded her head. “They don’t want me, either. I can walk right in front of the Dead, they don’t care.” She wiped the tears from her face away and smirked, shaking her head. “Even at the end of the world, I’m not noticeable.”

The words she spoke struck a nerve in Daryl, he felt like his heart was stabbed into. Seeing that look of defeat on her face as she said it, hearing the words come from her mouth. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to hear her say it again. “Nah, ya gots the advantage.” He encouraged her.

Rick nodded to Daryl. “You can freely walk among them, you are safe.”

Her face hardened as she knew what they meant, but they never were truly alone. They seemed to have each other for at least a while now. “The dead don’t make good company.” She said bitterly.

Hershel pats her shoulder and looked to Rick. “Well, seeing as how she doesn’t seem to be a threat, no reason we can’t be good company.”

Rick took a deep breath and nodded. “You don’t hurt my people, you put in work, you can be part of us. But I won’t hesitate to put you down if you hurt anyone, or that infection starts to show.” His tone was serious.

“Understood.” She slipped the black hoodie, his hoodie, over her body again.

“Carl, show her to a cell. Daryl, Hershel and I are gonna talk.” Rick looked at the boy, who assumed was his son based on what Daryl said earlier.

He nodded and started walking towards a closed gate. She got up and quickly caught up to the boy.

She coughed. “Thanks for not shooting me, Carl.” She used his name instead of kid, wanting him to not hate her as much as he looked like he did.

He simply nodded and took her up the stairs, passing by a bottom row of cells. The upstairs had more. He walked her over to the last one, closest to a look out of sorts in the center. “I’m putting you near Daryl in case anything happens, just know he’ll be there to stop you.” He spoke sharply, turning on his heels and walking to the stairs.

She pushed open the cell and peaked inside, it had a bunk bed, with actual mattresses, at least, the bottom one did. It was small, dark and isolated from the rest of the cells downstairs that looked decorated and lived in. She put her backpack down in front of the bed and flopped down on it. The act of laying on a soft surface causing her back to ache.

She thought about the hunter, and how she followed him for weeks, and how he never seemed to notice her in the horde of dead she snuck through. She thought about how everyone seemed stand-offish to her, even the friendly old man who seemed nice, but she could see he was unsure of her. Playing with her ring, while her hands rested on her stomach, she closed her eyes, thinking of him. What he would do to gain their trust. Thinking of him, she didn’t even noticed, she had fallen asleep.

[branded-witha-j]

BITING DOWN

Pairing: vampire!james x reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: dub/non-con, drugging, blood, forced swallowing, biting, smut.

18+ only! Please heed the warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Beta read by @nocturne-pisces. 🖤

The header is my own terrible creation. I'm not good at making edits, never claimed to be, and at this point I'm proud of it. 😉😆

My submission for @cocoamoonmalfoy's Jack o' Lanterns in July. I loved the idea and I hope you enjoy my attempt at something spooky. Thank you for letting me join in! 💚💚💚

~~~

Thick snow clouds dye the sky an angry steel blue, the sun shrouded and eclipsed by the impending storm. Pure, undisturbed snow is soiled by stumbling feet, breath exhaled in explosive puffs into the frigid cold. The wind howls, skeletal trees swaying and cracking in the gale, their limbs reaching out like curious fingers to pluck at your clothes. They snag and tear, eager to embrace you like the car you left behind, but fear keeps you moving. They pull back with nothing but scraps, branches rubbing together in protest.

Howls slip past you on the wind, reaching a crescendo that deafens. The chill that accompanies the sound isn't from the cold, the wind not the cause. Heavy paws pound against the ground, huffs and pants pushing the wolves forward and closer. Your head whips back over your left shoulder, but you can see nothing, the creatures invisible and shrouded by the surrounding woods.

You chide yourself, thinking this must be a dream, that none of this is real. The tree branch that you collide with makes it a painful reality, your feet swept out from under you as you fall back. The ground is hard and unforgiving, your bruised body limp and unable to move. Fear clutches at your throat, making it hard to breathe.

The wolves emerge, circling you slowly, hackles raised as they snarl. You scream out as one lunges at you, yanking your leg away just in time. The next one goes for your arm, coming so close you can feel the warmth from its maw. You know the next one won't miss and then you'll be torn to shreds, your mind refusing to wrap around the thought of your own death.

Pinching your eyes closed, you hear a deep growl that dominates the others, the smaller snarls turning into yelps. Paws pound on the ground as they flee, followed by no sound except the blowing wind.

"Hello?" Your voice is swallowed up by frigid air and carried off into the unknown. "Please. Is someone there?"

Every bone and muscle in your body aches in protest as you sit up. There's still no sign of anyone or anything and the thought scares you more than if they were in front of you. Numb fingers dig into the ground as you struggle to your feet, each step sending a bolt of pain up your legs. Snowflakes begin to fall, gently at first, but then it thickens until you can no longer tell which direction you're going.

When a light flickers in and out of the falling snow, you're horrified that maybe you backtracked to your wrecked car. When it grows brighter, like a beacon calling you to safety, you rush forward, boots dragging through the building snow.

It's a cabin, each of the windows lit up with a warm, yellow light. Rushing forward, you trip on the way up the icy steps, catching yourself on the door.

"Hello?!? Is anyone home? Please, I need help!" You knock furiously, each bang against the wood sending pins and needles up your arm. Peering through the nearby window, you can make out a roaring fire, no sign of life. You know you're going to freeze to death if you don't get inside and the thought makes you bang on the door some more. "HELLO?!? PLEASE!"

You bang one final time with a sob, inhaling sharply as the door opens. It creaks as it swings inward, the warmth that washes over you making you push forward. You barely remember slamming the door, running across the room and falling to your knees before the fireplace. Hands tremor as you hold them before the flames, the heat hurting your frozen skin. You don't stop, moving closer and closer until the flames almost touch your fingertips.

Time escapes you, eyelids growing heavier as warmth returns to your body. The cabin is much bigger than it looks from the outside and a nearby doorway gives you a glimpse of a bed. Using the hearth to pull yourself up, you venture into the room, expecting to find someone in the bed. Instead, it's empty, the blanket turned down as if anticipating a guest. You can barely get your boots off, stumbling onto the mattress and beneath the covers. Heavy patch quilts weigh you down, a soothing cocoon of warmth as you fall asleep.

~~~

When you wake, the windows are dark, the wind still howling outside. As you sit up, the fine hairs on your body stand at attention, warning you of something you have yet to see. The figure in the doorway is blocking out most of the light from the nearby fire, a hand lifting that you're certain is holding a weapon. As you prepare to scream, a light flicks on, illuminating everything and everyone.

The man is beautiful, chestnut hair tucked behind his ears, eyes the same color as the stormy sky. His lips are turning up into a smile and it does nothing to put you at ease. Looking down, you see that your clothes are still damp and soiled, your boots muddy on the floor.

"I- I'm so sorry. I got into an accident and got lost in the woods and I was so cold and I saw the fire and I would never break in, but I was so cold." You ramble until you have to take a breath, the man using the pause to speak.

"It's okay. You just scared me is all. I thought I had a dead body on my hands."

"How long–"

"You've been out for most of the night, the sun is coming up."

You push back the blankets and throw your legs over onto the floor. You still feel weak and take a moment, your eyes looking everywhere but at the man.

"Could you call someone?" The man is sturdy, biceps flexing as he crosses his arms over his broad chest. "I'll pay you for your trouble."

"There's no service. And the storm has knocked out all the roads."

"Fuck." How long would the storm last and would this man even want to take you back into town? You barely remember the name while passing through. Knockemsomething.

"Looks like you're stuck until the storm lets up." The lack of concern in his voice is unsettling and you stand, walking over to the nearest window. The curtain is thick and heavy, the clouds determined to cloak the sun once again. What you can see is horrifying. The snow is so deep, a drift almost reaches the window. You drop the curtain back and turn around, the man no longer standing in the doorway.

"Hello?" You venture out and find him moving around a small kitchen.

"You hungry?" He holds up a pot of what looks like oatmeal. Another pot is making cowboy coffee, the scent strong. It makes your stomach growl.

"Yes, please, thank you." You sink down into the chair he points at and you watch his flannel clad back as he cooks and whistles. You suddenly realize that you haven't told him your name, so you blurt it out. The man looks over his shoulder and gives you a smile.

"I'm James."

You feel the corner of your lips twitching and soon you return a shy smile. It dims as he turns back and you look around the cabin nervously. Everything looks rustic and handmade, warm colors and complimentary mixed patterns dotted around. You wonder why anyone would live out here, why would anyone want to be this isolated–

"Here you go." James lowers a bowl before you and a steaming mug of coffee. You give him a quiet thank you and pick up the spoon, swirling it through the oats. They're perfect, a hum making your host smile before he turns back to the stove. Each bite just reminds you of how hungry you are and eventually you move on to the hot coffee. It's pleasantly bitter and you hold it with both hands to absorb the heat.

"Where you from?" James asks you as he brings the pot over to refill your bowl. You lift your left hand to tell him no thank you, but a wave of dizziness makes it drop, the one holding your coffee losing its grip. The mug shatters, hot liquid splattering across the floor. You turn to grab a napkin, but the sudden movement sends the room into a spin, hands clutching weakly at the edge of the table as you slump.

You feel him catching you, his hands ice cold. It makes you flinch, his face coming in and out of focus as he looks down at you. His touch chills you, your hands coming up to push at his chest. Something is wrong.

"It's okay. I gotcha."

~~~

A disturbing tug at your skin forces you out of your slumber, a ceiling slowly coming into focus. As you remember where you are, you really wish you didn't, a moan falling from between your dry lips.

"Shhh, I gotcha." The words are purred from between your thighs, eyes trailing down drunkenly at the man knelt between them. His lips are red, perfect teeth outlined in blood, and with eyes locked with yours, he latches onto soft skin. Numerous bites dot the inside of your thigh and you can feel the suction of his mouth as he drinks from you.

"Stop–" You whine weakly, hands fisted in the sheets beneath you. He retreats as if to give you what you beg for, but his teeth bare with a snarl, sinking into the smooth, unmarked skin of your other thigh. You scream out, the pain excruciating, and the disconnect of his fangs is just as terrible. A chill creeps and accompanies the monster as he slithers up your body, your blood fragrant on his breath.

"You taste divine. You have no idea how long it has been." You plead and beg for your life, asking him to let you go. He stops you with a click of his crimson stained tongue. "You beg for something that is no longer yours."

Tears are lapped up eagerly and blood stained lips lift in a grimace as he savors your body beneath him. His bare skin is surprisingly hot against your own, his face flushed. It's you, you're the reason for the color on his cheeks, the heat of your blood giving him the warmth he lacks.

"Give yourself to me and I'll make this feel good." His lips ghost against yours, coppery tongue coming out to tease. "Open your mouth. Open it!"

A grip of his hand at your jaw tightens painfully, your mouth forced open with a gasp. He takes it as an invitation and kisses you, his wicked tongue curling inside to entice. He tastes of sugar and toxins, candied and forbidden, your whine swallowed up.

His teeth scrape against your bottom lip, hand dropping from your throat to give his hungry mouth access. You tense, afraid he's going to bite you, and your reaction makes James chuckle.

"If you're good for me, I'll make it quick." He nips at your collarbone, droplets of blood dotting on flesh for him to collect. You can't stop the moan when his mouth closes around a nipple, the plush of his lips encasing it completely.

"James!" His fangs pierce the skin, your scream muffled as his hand clamps over your mouth. You bite down, wanting to cause him pain, and his laugh against your breast is disturbing.

Lurching up, the monster smiles at you, a river of your blood cutting down his chin. It turns into droplets in the cleft, spattering onto your face and neck.

"You want to hurt me?" You shake your head, even if you don't mean it, and he turns to expose his throat. "Go on. Hurt me."

It's a trap, you know it, but it's enticing, the blue vein running along the column of his neck making your teeth itch to hurt him in return. You give him what he wants, lifting your head, teeth finding purchase in the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. Your bite is hard, canines sinking into his flesh much easier than you expect, a pop and rush of blood startling you. James groans above you, his arousal heavy and rigid against your thigh. A large hand comes up to cup the back of your head and he cradles you against him, savoring the burn of teeth for once.

You choke on the thick stream as it fills your mouth, blood splashed against him and onto your chest. The weight of your decision is heavy, head shaking as he groans for you to swallow. His blood threatens to steal your breath for good and his hand pulls you back so he can level his eyes with yours.

"Swallow." His voice is deep, a palm coming up to smother you. You tense, eyes widening, and each second that passes your lungs ache. When it reaches the point of agony, you gulp down, choking around it as he removes his hand to allow you to take a needed breath. "Good girl, such a good girl."

A cough splatters red across his face, but he doesn't mind, capturing your mouth for a deep, bloody kiss. The burn in your stomach is only rivaled by the sudden invasion of his cock, his hips clapping against yours. You feel drunk, body limber and head swimming. In and out the vampire fucks you, your arms and legs moving to fight, but wrapping around him instead. You're falling, everything is spinning, and a fire sparks to life in your gut.

"I gotcha." Forehead pressed against yours, he watches as you fall endlessly, pain making your eyes close and face pinch. When your hands ball into fists, he reaches back to pull them down, pinning them on the bed by your head. "Let go."

His words are breathless, even as he draws no breath, and the horror of it makes you struggle. James coos and shushes you, holding you down as you begin to scream. Even as you lunge forward to bite his chest, he doesn't falter, his thrusts building again until he's fucking you so hard the bed shakes and squeaks in protest. His blood is in your mouth, stomach turning and forcing you to spit it out.

"I'm sorry." Before you can ask why, he bares his teeth and pierces into your throat. Your scream is deafening, sobs jolted as he thrusts deep and hard, his lips latching to suck hungrily at your blood. Your body wars with itself; the burning in your stomach feels like popping lava, the stretch of his cock a stinging pleasure you hate. His teeth retract, growls vibrating up his chest as he feeds from you.

He drains you, pulling you closer and closer to the brink of death. As you spin, everything fading to black, you no longer feel pain, only the pleasure he gives you.

~~~

You gasp, pulling in air, and then exhaling. There's no comfort in either of those things, your chest still and empty.

"Look at me."

James smiles as your eyes meet, his steel blue tinted with red.

"Open." You don't hesitate this time, your tongue curling with his. The pull you have to him is intensified by his cock still inside you, every vein and ridge felt as he ruts into you. You keen, head falling back, and James returns to your throat, tongue lapping along your skin. "I had to make you mine."

The weight of his words make you tense and he stills, pupils blown as he licks up the column of your throat to your trembling bottom lip.

"What did you do?" You know without asking, but the horror of being a monster of his creation is heavy and terrifying.

He doesn't answer you, instead nipping at your lip until fangs tear, your kiss bloody again. The taste of yourself makes your skin tighten with need and the hands that were pushing at his chest, slide up and over his shoulders. Your hips lift, meeting his, making James growl as his head ducks down to watch. A hard peak entices him and he pulls your nipple into his mouth, the wound that once made it throb no longer there. Dragging your hands up into his hair, you hold him against you, nails digging into his scalp.

He bites you in retaliation, but the pain is euphoric. Harder and harder he moves against you, a hand dipping down between you both to seek out your clit. You cry out, the tease of his fingers making you clamp around him tightly.

"You're mine." His mouth growls at your ear, the pressure growing. "Mine forever. Tell me. Tell me you're mine."

Eyes are white, rolled back in your head, words lost on your tongue as he coaxes you closer to the edge. When you fall, he's there with you, strong body holding you and keeping you from harm that no longer matters. You scream as you come, cunt pulsing wildly. James groans out, skin slapping against skin as he pushes through the tight resistance.

"I'm yours! Yours, James!" Your cries of acceptance make him tense, thrusts growing sloppy.

"And I'm yours." In the midst of your chilly union, warmth spreads through you, his cum hot as it spills inside you. You clutch to each other, feeling the waves of pleasure as it ebbs and flows, lazy nips and kisses left on cool skin.

~

The Sheriff had to walk the last quarter mile on foot, out of breath and sour as he stomps up onto the porch. His fist pounds at the door and before he can do it again, it opens.

"Sheriff Bodecker, what brings you around?"

"Well, I got a call about an abandoned car, and the girl it belongs to is nowhere to be found. Thought maybe you might'a seen her."

"No, I haven't. Do you wanna come in for some coffee, Sheriff?"

Bodecker hesitates, knowing he shouldn't, but it's colder than a witch's tit outside, and the inside is inviting.

"Just for a minute or two."

The Sheriff crosses the threshold, a flash of movement startling him. A blurred figure rushes towards him, his hand too slow to reach for his pistol.

You leap onto him, knocking him back with your weight, and the leather of his jacket squeaks as he struggles. James kneels down, grabbing the hair atop Bodecker's head, and jerks it back to expose his throat.

"Go on. It feels better biting down."

[borahae-777]

The Truth Untold -- Chapter 25: I Wanted To Become Your Comfort And Move Your Heart

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook, Yoongi x Jimin

Word Count: Fic in progress, 230k so far. 3k-5k per chapter

Chapter Summary:

Yoongi is lying on the floor of his studio staring at the ceiling. He hasn’t been able to sit still all day, he knows Namjoon had his meeting with Bang this morning. He came right to the building when he woke up, leaving Jimin asleep in his bed. He’d felt the younger man crawl in with him in the middle of the night and tuck his face against his neck, leaving wet tear tracks against his skin. He should have told him that he was awake, but he couldn’t find the words and simply stayed still until they both drifted off.

Warnings: Eventual Smut, BDSM, 18+, MxM

Namjoon is back in a BigHit conference room with Bang, Dae-Hyun, and Bon-Hwa. Now that everything has come to a head, they all have a lot to discuss. The public response has been completely different than expected. The backlash has been worse than he imagined it would be, but there is a huge wave of support and love from ARMY. Comment sections are full of fights between those who have turned against the group and those who have rallied around them.

“Alright everyone, thank you for coming into the office to talk. Dae-Hyun and I met yesterday and we now know what company has come after the band. The CEO and his executives over at SM cooked up this plan to try and push us out of the way so that their artists could shine. Luckily, judging by the success of Fake Love, this new album is going to explode right in their faces. Namjoon, how are you feeling?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. There’s a mix of emotions that seem to fight for purchase. I’m relieved that we have answers and that the plan was a success. I’m hurt at the response to the story and worried about how many people we may have alienated. I’m touched at the response from a lot of international ARMYs and some of the ones close to home. Bon-Hwa, are you okay?”

“More than okay, Namjoon-ah. Don’t worry about me. This whole thing has given me a sense of purpose I wasn’t expecting.”

“Glad to hear it. I suppose it’s time to release the debunking evidence, PD-nim?”

“Not quite yet, but soon. I want Dae-Hyun in their good graces for a little longer while I secure everything we need to sue Dispatch and hopefully put the executives over at SM behind bars for blackmail. Are you willing to hold out a little longer, Dae-Hyun?”

“As long as you all need me to. I’m grateful for the chance to fix my mistakes and for the help you’ve provided for my mother. She’s responding well to treatment and I’ll never be able to express how thankful I am.”

“Good. The company holds no ill will against you, you’ve more than paid your dues. Your job here is secure and you have a clean slate. Namjoon, how are the guys doing?”

“They’re mostly worried about me and having trouble keeping themselves out of the comment sections. I think they’re putting themselves in my shoes and imagining how people would react if it was them who went public.”

“Try and reassure them. We will protect Taehyung and Jungkook in every possible way. Keep working hard and keep your head down for now. I need a week or so to get everything together and then we’ll make a statement to the press and clear your name. Not everyone will believe your innocence, are you prepared for that?”

“I’d rather not think of it as innocence, sir. There’s nothing inherently guilty about the scandal. My family knows that it isn’t true, so does Bon-Hwa’s. They’re supporting each other through it. That’s all that matters.”

“Alright gentlemen. Dismissed.”

The three men stand up and bow to the CEO before exiting the room. Namjoon hugs Bon-Hwa and promises to give him a call when he has any news, sending his friend home. Dae-Hyun hangs back and awkwardly looks at Namjoon, trying to say something but failing. Namjoon gives him a warm smile and tries to reassure him.

“Dae-Hyun, if there’s something you want to talk about you can. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

“I guess I was wondering if you think that the guys would talk with me again. I’ve been wanting to reach out to the maknaes in particular to try and see if we can renew the bonds we were making, but I know I don’t deserve another chance. I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least try.”

“I wouldn’t say you don’t deserve it. You made a very grave error, a bigger one than some people can forgive, but we are a more forgiving group of people than you think. You didn’t just show remorse, you worked hard and put your life on the line to make it up to us. Let me talk to everyone and I’ll give you a call. Is there anything specific you want me to say?”

“No, I trust you to present it well. Maybe just ask Jimin if he’d be comfortable reaching out individually? I owe him more apologies than anyone, but only if Yoongi-hyung is comfortable with us speaking. I respect him too much to bypass him.”

“I’ll talk to everyone tonight. Go be with your mother, she needs you right now. I hope she knows what an amazing son she has and what he has risked for her.”

Dae-Hyun’s eyes grow misty and he launches himself at Namjoon before pulling away and hurrying down the hallway with his head down. Namjoon can’t help but smile at his retreating back, he expected to feel cold towards the man, but he finds himself thinking that he still is a good person at heart. Everyone makes mistakes and he deserves a second chance. He pulls out his phone to send a group text about a family meeting and turns in the opposite direction to go to his studio. He needs to be alone to process what’s going to happen next.

********

Yoongi is lying on the floor of his studio staring at the ceiling. He hasn’t been able to sit still all day, he knows Namjoon had his meeting with Bang this morning. He came right to the building when he woke up, leaving Jimin asleep in his bed. He’d felt the younger man crawl in with him in the middle of the night and tuck his face against his neck, leaving wet tear tracks against his skin. He should have told him that he was awake, but he couldn’t find the words and simply stayed still until they both drifted off.

Since he got here this morning, he’d tried to mix songs and failed. He’d tried to nap and failed. He’d tried to read, tried to write, tried to play games. That’s how he found himself on his back on the floor, lost in his thoughts. His goal for today is to not return to any of the comment sections about Namjoon and Bon-Hwa. Once he starts reading he finds himself lost down the rabbit hole for hours. It’s not all bad, there are countless ARMYs standing up for the couple.

On the other hand, there are comments from ARMYs who claim to have been fans from the start who are now leaving them behind. The media is slandering Namjoon left and right and by extension, the rest of them. People are questioning whether the popular ships are real, whether Namjin was ever true and if Namjoon has left Jin behind. Whether Yoonmin is more than just speculation. Most of the questions are about Taekook, Yoongi has watched some of their ship videos and even he has to admit that the two are the least subtle. He worries for them, and considers telling him to back off for a while until the heat around Namjoon dies down. He has no idea how long the company is going to wait to take legal action and debunk the story.

He is about to sit up and see if he can choke down some food when he hears a soft knock on his door. His stomach drops a little, thinking it might be Jimin coming to confront him about their relationship. He feels guilty, knows what he’s doing isn’t right, but he just can’t handle that kind of emotional labor right now. He ignores the knock and it grows stronger as he hears a voice that isn’t Jimin’s calling his name through the door.

“Yoongi-hyung, I know you’re in there. Please open the door.”

He stands up and hurries to the door, feeling bad that he ignored it in the first place. His shaking hands fumble with the lock, proof that he needs to eat something before his body gives out on him. He opens the door to Jungkook looking nervous and ushers him in.

“Hey Kook-ah. Is everything okay? You look unsettled.”

“I was hoping I could talk to you about something, but now that I’m here I’m a little bit hesitant.”

“You can talk to me about anything, Jungkookie. I know it’s been awhile since we’ve done this, but our lives have been kind of crazy, hm?”

“I guess I was worried that our bond wouldn’t be as strong anymore or that you’d be upset with me for kind of leaning towards Jimin when everything went bad. Taehyung came to you and Jimin needed someone.”

“I would never hold that against you. It’s not taking sides. Jimin needed help and I’m glad you took care of him when I couldn’t. I promise I did the same for Taehyung in your absence.”

“I know, hyung. I’ve heard a lot about the connection you built with each other and it makes me happy. Thank you for helping him.”

“No need to thank me. Now what’s up? Come sit with me on the couch, don’t be nervous.”

He grabs Jungkook by the hand and can tell the maknae is shocked at the physical contact. He’s not one to be touchy, but he wants to put him at ease and could kind of use the grounding touch himself. He walks them over to the couch where they sit facing each other, Jungkook hesitantly lacing their fingers together and leaving them together. It feels nice and for once Yoongi doesn’t feel the urge to pull away.

“Hyung…please tell me what’s going on with you. We can all tell you’re not okay. You might think you’re being subtle, but you’re not.”

“W-what? Are you all sitting around talking about me?”

“No, no. It’s not like we’ve had some sort of meeting behind your back, but sometimes you’ll say something or a look will cross your face and everyone’s eyes will meet. We acknowledge it. Tae has told me that he’s worried though and he’s a little hurt that you haven’t gone to him. Jimin hasn’t talked to either of us, but we can see the life draining out of him. He’s becoming a ghost and we assume you had a big fight.”

“We didn’t have a fight.”

“That’s all you can say to me right now? You can’t rot away in this studio by yourself. You don’t have to tell everyone, but talk to someone. Talk to me.”

“Aish, Kook. I’m your hyung and you’re the maknae, I’m not supposed to lean on you.”

“Screw age ranks and honorifics. I’m your friend and brother first.”

“I don’t know how to explain. Something in me is wrong. I don’t feel anything anymore. I’m dead inside and out. I’ve gone through something similar before, before we debuted. It was before most of the group was even cast. It was just me, Joon, and Hobi. I handled it alone then and I can handle it alone now. It just takes time.”

“The difference between then and now is that now you don’t have to do it alone. We’re your family, back then all you had was strangers in a strange city. What do you mean you don’t feel anything?”

“Everything is muted. Colors aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. I’m not hungry, I’m not motivated, I can’t bring myself to be affectionate with Jimin, I don’t even feel excited about the album release.”

“I’ll be honest with you because you’ve been honest with me, that scares me a bit. If your emotions were just on hiatus for a while, I could wrap my head around that, but you’re not even able to care about your music? You’ve worked harder on the Love Yourself albums than anyone.”

“I know. I love the songs, I do. Somewhere deep down I know I’m excited to see the world respond to what we’ve created, especially The Truth Untold and Serendipity. I just can’t bring it to the surface.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a long while, staring at their joined hands and stroking the back of Yoongi’s softly. His brow is furrowed, thinking hard. Yoongi has to admit he does feel a little bit lighter having gotten some of it off his chest. He knows he can’t confide in Jungkook about the commenter and the backlash against Namjoon, he doesn’t want to turn the younger’s attention to that hatred.

“Hyung, would you consider talking to us about all of this at the family meeting tonight? You don’t have to and I won’t say a word to anyone if that’s what you want. I just think it would help you and everyone else to have it out in the open. No one will force anything on you, they just want to know what’s in your head.”

“You’re welcome to talk to Taehyung about this if you’d like to, tell him my door is open and I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings with my silence. I just need to know neither of you will go to Jimin. I know it’ll be hard, but I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

“Alright, hyung. We won’t. What about the meeting?”

“I’ll think about it, Jungkook. I’m tired. I think the meeting is going to be about much more important things.”

********

“He wants me to do what?!”

“Hear him out, Jimin-ah. I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Jimin is staring at Namjoon agape. The leader had come back at lunchtime and knocked on Jimin’s door, asking to talk. He explained that the meeting tonight was going to be about the scandal and about Dae-Hyun, but wanted to discuss it with Jimin first. That’s when he dropped the bombshell of the jerk wanting to talk to him directly as well.

“Namjoon-hyung, how can he think I’d want to talk to him?”

“Jimin, he was a desperate man backed into a corner. He’s done far more than he needed to in order to fix this for us. You have no idea the sacrifices he’s made. By coming clean to us he risked his mother’s cancer treatment! You cared about him once and I know that a part of you still does. You’re the kindest and most forgiving person I’ve ever met. Think about it.”

“Aish, how am I supposed to say no when you compliment me like that?”

Namjoon chuckles and wraps an arm around his shoulders, winking before walking out the door. Jimin sits on his bed and thinks about his hyung’s words. He makes some good points and he can’t pretend he doesn’t understand to an extent. What would he have done if he was in Dae-Hyun’s shoes? He’d like to think he wouldn’t have made the same choices, but he can’t say that for sure. He thinks about his mother and feels such a rush of love that he finds himself picking up his phone. He unblocks the contact and hits the call button, listening to the ring.

“Jimin-ssi?”

“Hi.”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. I assume Namjoon somehow already made it to you?”

“He did. Is there something you wanted to say to me?”

“I don’t know where to begin. I’m deeply sorry for everything I’ve done. Not just to the group, but to you specifically. I should have never kissed you without your consent, I disrespected you and I disrespected Yoongi-hyung. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for that or for my role in what happened to Taehyung and Jungkook. I just wanted the chance to say that to you directly.”

“I’m not sure if I can ever forgive you, but I think at the meeting tonight the group will agree to hear you out. What Namjoon is doing for us has inspired everyone to be a little more selfless like him. If everyone else is willing to give you a second chance, I think I could too. It’ll depend on how the conversation goes. Namjoon hasn’t told us the extent of what your role in his plan was, but I have a feeling it runs deeper than we think.”

“I understand completely. Thank you for listening, Jimin-ssi. I should have never taken your friendship for granted.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. Have a good rest of your day, Dae-Hyun.”

Jimin hangs up the phone and flops backwards onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He does miss their friendship, he hadn’t connected with someone outside of the group like that in a long time. His nature makes him want to put it all behind them, but he needs to be sure first. Trust isn’t rebuilt overnight. He knows he should get up and go find Hobi in the studio to practice, but curls himself under his covers instead. He skips lunch and dinner, laying in the dark until it’s time for the meeting.

********

Taehyung is the first to arrive in the living room, sitting on the couch and fidgeting while he waits. These meetings have become a source of anxiety for him, nothing good has come out of them in almost a year. It really hits him that they’re closing in on a year since Jungkook first kissed him at Home Party. He wishes that they could celebrate it together like an anniversary, but it brought nothing but chaos to everyone. He can’t even remember the date that he and Jungkook came back together, everything has been lost in the shuffle.

He’s worried about Jimin more than anything. He poked his head into his room earlier to offer him meals, but both times he was unresponsive. He’d walked over to the bed and wrapped his arms around the sleeping man, placing a kiss on his temple. Nothing is okay with Jimin. Not their soulmate bond, not his relationship with Yoongi, not his eating habits. Taehyung doesn’t want a repeat of debut-era Jimin where his mental health collapsed and he refused food altogether.

On the flip side, he’s worried about Yoongi too. He’s not sure who is feeding off of who, but it’s clear that something to do with each other is part of the problem. They barely even sit together anymore, let alone show any affection. He finds Jimin in his own bed almost every night and he wonders if they’re even speaking. He knows that Yoongi’s brain works a lot like his own and wishes that he could comfort his hyung, but he doesn’t want to pry unless he approaches him directly.

He hears a noise and snaps out of his train of thought, watching Namjoon and Yoongi walk in the front door. They’re not talking to each other, both looking lost in their thoughts when they look up and flash small smiles at Taehyung. Yoongi comes over and sits directly next to him while Namjoon heads down the hall and starts knocking on doors.

“Hey Tae.”

“Hi hyung.”

Yoongi reaches out and laces their fingers together, giving his hand a soft squeeze and looking at him with hopeful eyes. He smiles and squeezes back, looking down at their joined hands in relief. It feels like a small thread of hope. They don’t say anything, they don’t have to. A throat clears behind Taehyung and he sees Jimin standing there, staring at their hands and looking forlorn before sitting in an armchair. He starts to pull away from Yoongi and opens his mouth to say something when he’s interrupted by the rest of the crowd entering the room. He decides he’ll seek Jimin out after and keeps his hand in Yoongi’s. Jungkook sits on his other side, smiling at their display of affection and squeezing the back of his neck.

“Okay, now that we’re all here I want to start by checking in on everyone. How are you all doing with the story breaking? Thoughts? Feelings?”

He looks around the room, meeting all of their eyes one by one. No one seems to want to speak first, seemingly hesitating when addressing the elephant in the room. The silence drags on until Namjoon gets frustrated and speaks again.

“Come on, guys. I know you all have a take on the situation. I’ll start, maybe hearing something from me will help us start. I’m okay, really I am. Some of the responses have been hurtful and scary, I won’t pretend they haven’t. However, I’m impressed and touched by the ARMYs that have stuck by us and started to fight back in our stead. I’ve also heard a little buzz about this boosting us even further in America, you know they have endless LGBT icons there.”

Jimin speaks up softly, as if he’s afraid of the response.

“I’m worried about the attention on us leading to the rest of us being outed somehow.”

“That’s a completely valid fear, Jiminie. We’re going to be under scrutiny for a while, there’s no doubt about that. Even once the story is debunked, there are bound to be people who believe it’s true. We have to be careful about what we show on camera for a little while.”

“No! Hyung, please, we can’t go through that again.”

“Deep breaths, Kook. I don’t mean a separation like before, just a little caution. Tear drops in a few weeks and Answer won’t be far behind. We have an extremely busy comeback season this year. The Billboard Awards, appearances on American talk shows, concerts in several countries, constant promotions. We’re going to be watched closely.”

“Sorry, hyung. I’m just tired of the fear.”

“We all are, but this will all be worth it when we come out the other side. I promise you that. We can get through anything.”

Something is stuck in Taehyung’s head and decides to speak up.

“You said you wanted to start by checking in, Namjoon-hyung. Does that mean that this wasn’t the reason for the meeting?”

“Yes, Tae, I called you here for something else. I was at the office this morning with Bang, Bon-Hwa, and Dae-Hyun. The company is putting the finishing touches on our plans so they can take official legal action against Dispatch and the blackmailers.”

“Does that mean we know who it is that’s behind all of this?”

“We do. It’s SM.”

The room erupts in chatter, Taehyung has a hard time picking out any particular voices, but from what he gathers no one is all that surprised. They’ve all had idol friends who are signed under SM and heard about their shady practices. They bury their internal scandals better than any other company and keep their idols from speaking out about the cruel way they’re treated. He wants more information, though.

“So what happens next?”

“Bang said he needs about a week to get everything in order and then he’ll go to the press with the evidence to debunk the story. Dae-Hyun is going to stay ‘undercover’ just that little while longer to make sure that he can prove that it is indeed SM beyond a shadow of a doubt. Which brings me to the main reason for talking to you as a group instead of talking to you individually, Dae-Hyun was hoping he could sit and talk to you all again. I fully support him and would like you to consider agreeing. Before anyone says anything, can we do a preliminary vote to gauge where we’re all at? Can everyone willing to hear him out please raise a hand?”

Three hands go up: Namjoon, Jin, and Hobi. Taehyung looks at Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jimin next. He knows that they’d be the ones more likely to be hard on the man. Jimin’s eyes are darting back and forth between his hyungs before he nods to himself and also raises his hand. Taehyung’s eyes widen in shock, he didn’t expect Jimin to ever agree to this. If Jimin can be the bigger person here, so can he. He raises his hand as well. He feels Jungkook and Yoongi’s stares, but looks straight ahead at their leader.

“Okay, thank you. I’m glad to see that the majority of us are together on this. Who’d like to make their argument first? Jungkook?”

“Age before beauty, hyung!”

“Aish, you brat. Okay, I have no problem speaking first. I think this is bullshit. What would ever make any of you think this man deserves a chance to speak to us? He could have ruined our lives and in more extreme cases gotten some of us physically hurt. If there’s anyone in the world who doesn't deserve a second chance, it’s Dae-Hyun. Are you forgetting he kissed Jimin?”

“Yoongi-hyung, I understand all of that. No one has forgotten what he’s done to us, but Jimin and Taehyung have found it within themselves to hear him out. Can’t you do the same? Arguably they’ve both been more hurt by him than you have.”

“He’s right, Yoongi-hyung. If Tae and Chim are okay with this, I guess I am too. I’ll vote in favor.”

“Really, Kook-ah? You’re okay with sitting in front of that man and listening to him justify almost blackmailing you?”

“Namjoon-hyung isn’t asking us to forgive him, just to listen. We can do that. You can do that.”

A look passes between Jungkook and Yoongi that seems to have more weight behind it than it should and it leaves Taehyung confused. He makes a mental note to talk to Jungkook after the meeting and see what’s going on. He watches as messages pass between their eyes and Yoongi’s shoulders slump in defeat.

“Fine. If everyone else is sure, then fine. Expect me to rub it in your faces when I’m proven right.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and starts suggesting dates for Dae-Hyun to come by the dorm. Everyone still seems hesitant and the leader starts to discuss what the other man’s role in the situation has been since he first came clean. Slowly, Taehyung starts to feel more open to the idea that he can forgive. None of them really understood the scope of the situation on the inside, Namjoon has kept a lot of the details close to his chest. He feels a squeeze from Yoongi and looks over to see him leaning into his ear.

“Can we take a walk and chat after?”

Taehyung’s face breaks into a blinding smile and he feels part of his stress lift away. He’s leaned on Yoongi far too much and hasn’t been able to get a word out of the other about his own struggles. Maybe he’s finally coming around. He nods and squeezes back, but catches Jimin staring at them out of the corner of his eye. He frowns to himself and leans over to Jungkook.

“Kookie, Yoongi-hyung wants to talk to me after the meeting, but I’m worried about Jiminie. Can you take him back to your room and check on him? Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can and the three of us can spend the night together.”

Jungkook smiles at him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and running a hand along his cheek. He knows Jimin will be in good hands.

********

“Hyung, let’s go back to my room and snuggle.”

“I don’t know, Kookie. I just want to go to sleep.”

“You’ve been sleeping all day, come on!”

Jungkook doesn’t give Jimin a choice, dragging him by the wrist down the hall. He’ll pick him up and carry him if he has to. He knows how low he’s getting and he’s determined to help whether Jimin accepts it or not. They get to his room and he closes the door behind him, nudging the other man onto his bed and tossing a banana at him.

“Eat something. I’m serious. Taehyung is going to be here soon and we’re going to spend the night together, all three of us like old times.”

Jimin begrudgingly tears open the fruit, nibbling a small bite and then placing it in his lap. He does seem to perk up a bit at the idea of a maknae sleepover. Jungkook sits down, his back against the headboard and reaches out a hand.

“Come on, Jiminie. Eat your banana and lay with me. Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to do, Jungkook. I’m losing him.”

“What’s going on with you two? You’re both barely floating through the day.”

“I have no idea. He just slowly started to drift and now he’s so far away that I can’t even catch a glimpse of him on the horizon. We barely spend any time together. I sneak into his room sometimes when he’s already asleep and curl up there, but he’s always gone when I wake up.”

“You know how Yoongi-hyung is. He’s not the most expressive person and he tends to retreat into himself.”

“I know, but he’s not supposed to be that way with me. I love him more than he can even imagine, I just want to be his safe space. I thought that’s what was happening, he was starting to be vulnerable around me and wear his heart on his sleeve. Then it seemed to become the opposite overnight. I feel like I’ve tried everything to get through to him.”

“Hmm, what if I said I had a plan that could help you get past his walls? It’s not a guarantee, but I think it would reach him at least a little bit.”

“I guess it depends on what it is. I can barely function right now.”

“I know, Jimin-ah, but maybe this will breathe life into you as well. Actually, now that I think about it, I think Dae-Hyun would be the perfect person to help us with this. The timing on this could be absolutely perfect.”

“Dae-Hyun?!”

“Yes, after hearing Namjoon talk about him tonight, I’m more than willing to meet with him, but if he still feels like he owes us a little…this could be the last boost he needs to reach forgiveness. Keep an open mind, okay?”

Jimin sits up and stares at him, waiting. Jungkook launches into the details of his idea and watches understanding dawn on the other man’s face. It’s a bit half-baked, but he’s hoping Jimin will want to fill in the blanks with him. It only just occurred to him when the meeting came to a close, but he thinks it will work. Jimin starts to make small suggestions and Jungkook feels an overwhelming sense of relief.

They need to get started first thing tomorrow morning.

[rahleeyah]

Can I ask you another process question?? Do you sit down in one go and just plow through a chapter, or do you work bit by bit? I know you have a very specific routine and writing conditions, but do you start and stop while writing at all? I'm just really into learning how how other writers go about their craft right now, for some reason.

hi hello! ok this is a very good question thank you lol

yeah, i just go straight through. if i take breaks, i find the tone changes, or i'll "restart"; often when i start writing a chapter i spend a few minutes at the beginning on the exposition, setting up where we are, setting up the mood. if i walk away and come back, i may find myself doing that again just to get myself back in the groove, wasting time and words reestablishing a mood i've already set. it's much more cohesive if i just go straight through.

so for my multi chapter fics, every chapter is between 2,000-3,000 words. this is for three reasons; the first is bc that's how much i can write in an hour, and the second is for the readers. i like to update frequently, so keeping the chapters in this range means that i can (and am therefore more likely to finish a multi chapter story, bc i've broken it up into chunks and i feel like i'm making better progress if i can update more than once a week) but it also means that i don't want to overload readers. i find that if a chapter gets much past 4-5k, as a reader my mind is wandering. i'll read a 100k fic in one sitting, but only if it's broken down into manageable chapters; the chapters give natural stopping points for me to get up and get a glass of water, stretch my legs, and to give my brain the tools necessary to indicate that i have made measurable progress, and i have a measurable distance left to travel. i find that if a long story updates just one 5-7k chapter every couple of weeks, i get lost and often won't go back to the story until it's finished and i can read it one go. knowing that's how i feel as a reader, as a writer i want to give the readers chapters that are easy to consume in the middle of the work week, easy to fit in around busy lives.

the third reason ties in to your original question, as far as do i stop and start or just plow through. 2-3k is to me the optimal amount of time it takes to cover one beat. a chapter to me is one stepping stone in the story, meant to accomplish one thing. could be one scene, or one thought process of the characters that needs to be explored. when i sit down to write i don't always know what the specifics of what's going to happen, but i know what the purpose of the chapter is, and so with that purpose in mind i set the stage, and go from there. sometimes a conversation will take place over multiple chapters, like we've done in instinct and in the blood, bc to me the conversation covers a lot of ground, and i want to divide the themes of the conversation. and not overload the readers with dialogue they may skim thru anyway.

if i'm writing a one shot, i'm still gonna do it usually in just one or two sittings. i'll sit and write for as long as i possibly can until i get to a natural stopping point, and then come back to it. so a lot of my long one shots, they were written in 4-5 hours, but only two sessions. it is rare for me to take more than two sessions to finish something, even if it's in the 10k+ range; i write like i'm fucking possessed. but i've always done that. in college i'd write all my papers, even the long 20 page term papers, in just one night. i'd sit in one of the academic buildings all night long just banging it out. finish a page, sneak out the window to have a cigarette, go back in, write one more page, out the window again, over and over until the thing was done. i'll be out here on the porch sweating, hungry, have to pee, still not stopping until i'm done lmao

this is by no means an endorsement of this method. i am well aware this is not a great system and would not work for some people. that's just what i do lol

[whythinktoomuch]

i. apocalypse now & then

Kara touched down, her boots meeting the earth with a metallic clunk that was promptly swallowed up in the dust and utter grayness of her surroundings. The warnings came immediately—insistent beeps, bright red numbers and figures flashing before her eyes.

“How’s it looking?” asked the tinny voice in her helmet, and Kara sighed.

“Yeah, you were right. Place is infested,” she said, studying the mess of debris and desolation that seemed to feed directly into the faint horizon in every direction. “Kryptonite readings are off the charts. There’s either a tower nearby, or mines just planted all over. Maybe even both, if i’m Iucky.”

Alex let out a harsh breath. “Look, I know you’re not going to leave until you find those people, but you better watch your fucking back out there, okay?”

“Hm… don’t I always though?”

“You ask that every single time, and every single goddamn time, I have to re-mind you of all—”

“All right, all right…” Kara said, rolling her eyes. “Just stop worrying so loudly already, jeez. I’ll keep you posted the entire time.”

“Like that was ever an option.”

“Love you too,” Kara said breezily, and she began her search.

She explored the area in proportioned sections, slipping periodically into x-ray vision, keeping her feet drifting an inch off the ground at all times. You just never knew these days. By now, Kara had stepped on enough lead-wrapped kryptonite mines for one lifetime, which coincidentally had been the same number of times it took to gray almost the entirety of Alex’s head. Or so Alex claimed anyway.

Apparently, over two decades of this sort of living could do that to a person: make them older, but also, steal away every last bit of their sense of humor. 

--

Whenever Kara happened upon a particularly extensive blind spot—jagged slabs of lead piled on top of each other—she took her time. Carefully sifted her way through all that rubble, with a spare bit of rebar or her heat vision from a safe distance. Calling out to any potential survivors that could have been trapped underneath. But as she steadily neared hour two of her search, it was starting to look like a lost cause. That whoever had sent that distress signal must have since succumbed to the environment, like so many others already had done before them.

Then Kara heard it.

Whipping her head around, Kara strained her ears to their very limit, all the while silently cursing how muffled everything sounded in this godforsaken suit of hers. It took a minute or so to hone in on it, but she finally made out the distant voice.

Help us. Save us. We’re down here.

Kara snapped into action, already hurtling full-speed toward the source of the cry. “Alex, I found them.”

“About fuckin’ time,” Alex said, but the note of relief carried through the speakers loud and clear. It always did, of course, given the scarcity of such a feeling as of late. “All right, get them out of there, and hurry your ass up. You’ve already been out there for too long.”

The voice grew louder and more distinct as Kara approached it, and eventually, she could even distinguish other people in the mix—their whispers, the muted beats of their heart seemingly punctuating every word, and all the shallow breaths of air in between. She counted at least five separate individuals, five more lives that she could potentially save from this impossible landscape.

But by the time Kara reached the point where the voice was sounding from below rather than from the distance, her excitement had all but waned, receded back into the ever present anxiety hanging in the air.

“… Fuck,” she huffed out, staring at the large swathe of broken rock and dirt and twisted metal beneath her, the letter K spray-painted all over the surface in a faded green. “Alex. They’re in a mine-rigged shelter.”

“Forget it then. Just get out of there,” Alex said, all rather predictably. “We can send an extraction team with defusers in the morning.”

“But that’ll take too long,” Kara protested. “It would take days, just for a task force to cover all that distance, and these people need help now.”

“No. I want you to put down a marker and come right the fuck back home,” Alex said. “That’s your last kryptonite filtration suit! If anything happens, if you sustain even the slightest bit of damage out there, you could—”

Kara cut the feed and swiftly locked her comms from all available channels, employing one of the few tips Winn had passed onto her before he died. Because Alex didn’t understand. How could she, when she wasn’t the one who had to listen to these desperate cries for help from people just barely out of reach.

She floated outside the presumed blast radius, planted her feet firmly to the ground, and went to work. Uncovering the buried shelter bit by bit, one sizable mass of charred rubble dug up after the other. It wasn’t easy. The kryptonite in the area, though not exposed, was much too close for comfort even through her suit. And it made the sun hotter, everything heavier, and Kara’s progress as slow as it could possibly be.

But all that—the sweat gathering on her brow, the soreness burning up her lower back—was a very small price to pay when weighed against the lives of at least five people in need. So, Kara kept going. She kept burrowing deeper into the earth with her bare hands, until the sun was but a small twinkle above her head and her fingertips were brushing against a patch of warmed metal.

And she could hear them better now. They were so close.

Kara pressed her palm against what had to be the outer wall of their shelter. “Hey, can you hear me in there?”

“Please help us!” came the frantic response, only somewhat muffled now. “Please get us out! We can’t breathe in here!”

“Okay! Okay… I’m gonna get you out, okay?” Kara shouted back, heart thumping hard in her ears. “Just… hang on.”

A quick once-over was all it took to determine that the wall before her—like most other surfaces nowadays—was naught but a few inches of commercial steel, coated in a thin layer of lead. And as such, all it would to take, of course, to break into such a structure was—THUNK!—a single punch from the Girl of Steel herself.

Kara ripped a hole in the wall, using her heat vision to melt down the edges as she tugged the entire thing apart. Eventually satisfied with her efforts, she was just about to crawl through her rather crude but functional doorway when the speakers in her helmet abruptly flipped back on.

“—him back to life, and just… throttle him for showing you that trick!” Alex was practically hollering in her ear. “Why would you ever need to do that anyway? The whole frickin’ point of the—”

“Whoa, Alex, Alex, it’s fine! I’m fine! Just shh!” Kara hastily cut her off. “I’ve pretty much got my foot in the door already, okay? So, I’m helping these people whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah, you fucking better,” Alex said with a scoff. “I want to look these people in the eye while you explain to me what was so goddamn special about them that you had to…”  

And Kara barked out a laugh, shaking her head in wonder as Alex continued to chew her out in a way that only sisters could, apparently. “Hey, you can do whatever you want, okay? Just let me bring them home first.”

“Fine. Just don’t kill the comms this time.”

“Oh, I would never.”

“Kara, I fucking swear to—”

But the rest of all that swearing quickly faded into the backdrop, as Kara finally poked her head into what should have been just another underground refuge from everything their world now had to offer. Because ten feet below from where she had burrowed her way in, was not a handful of dehydrated people waiting to be rescued—only masses upon masses of thick coils and plates of smooth black metal shifting about.

That’s when Kara realized that it’d been quite some time since she’d heard a cry for help. And soon after that was when a muted click! sounded, then somewhere down there in the midst of all that darkness and mechanical movement, came another loop of voices calling out to her.

“Oh shit…” Kara whispered, and at least ten sets of glassy eyes flicked up to stare at her. The pre-recorded voices immediately cut out, and the entire room lit up in a vibrant green as the machines all powered up with a collective hum. “Shit, shit, shit, you were right!”

“Right about what?” Alex demanded, but Kara was too busy heeding her long overdue advice of getting the fuck out there to respond.

Kara burst from the ground in a flurry of dust and clattering scrap metal, already heading for the horizon at full-speed. She needed to put as much distance as possible between her and the decoy shelter. It was nothing short of an honest-to-Rao miracle that her sudden escape hadn’t tripped any of the mines on-site, but now, it was only a matter of time.

Still hurtling away, Kara threw a glance over her shoulder just in time to see the first three drones break through the surface, already mindlessly chasing after her. Then the third and the fourth crashed right on through after them, which abruptly led to a series of rapid beeping, which abruptly led to a violent disturbance in the air that stole away all the sound from the world and knocked Kara right out of the sky.

(next part here)

[beautifulblhell]

3AM

Summary: Being friends with the Haitani brother entails being dragged out at 3am

A/N: Happy birthday to the thirstiest hoe I know to the lady who leaves Akaashi at home while she goes out on bike rides with Rindou and Wakasa @ara-mitsue!!🥳🥳🎉 okay so originally I didn’t think I would be able to finish this in time, hence why I wrote that fic with Ana, but here’s your order of Haitani sandwhich with a glass of Wak- I mean, water to quench your thirst🥴 hope you have a wonderful day today, and may you be surrounded by ‘roses’ tonight in your dreams 🍆🍆🍆🤣

Stayed up to 4am to write most of this, and since it was fuelled by lack of sleep, I apologise if some parts failed to make sense (or the whole thing) p.s it was only meant to be a 1k Fic 🤡

Characters: Haitani Ran x Reader x Haitani Rindou (x a special guest)

Tags: fluff, crack, swearing

WC: 3k

Tap tap

You jerked awake, accidentally yanking off one of your earphones as the cable got caught in your sleeve. For a moment you tried to make sense of the disoriented world. Then you swore. You had fallen asleep at your desk. Spreadsheets and graphs sprawled across your desk. Just the mere sight of them sent a shudder through you. And to think you always thought homework was bad.

You pulled off your other earphone as you got up. You back ached like a bitch. You stretched, then gave up as the pain intensified.

So much for the job description of nine-to-five. Guess it was your fault for not reading the small print when you signed the contract. Probably printed on page six hundred and fifty two in size 0.5 font was where it entailed how much work you need to do even when you got back home.

Tap tap

The rocks hit your window harder.

You glanced at the little clock sitting on your desk. ‘3AM’ flashed across the dim blue screen. You sighed, then crossed the room to your window. You had hoped you only dreamed of the noise, but alas, ‘twas not the case.

“What took you so long?” Rindou’s pissed voice materialised from the night air the moment you opened your window. Hearing his words, you were tempted to slam the window in his face. The only thing that was stopping you was how hot he looked even under the harsh glare of the streetlights. Taking another eyeful wasn’t going to cost you anything.

He was standing below your room with a handful of pebbles in his hand, his head tilted up towards your room on the second floor. The front wheel of his motorcycle was parked smack bang in the middle of your mom’s prized flowerbeds. Someone is definitely going to get skinned alive when she finds out in the morning.

“The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the window is closed.” you replied monotonously, your hand gripping the edge of the window frame, ready to lower it.

“Awww that’s no fun~” You looked towards the direction of the sing-song voice. The older Haitani brother was leaning on his motorcycle, which thankfully was parked at the sidewalk. His lips curved upwards when his lilac eyes raked over your dishevelled blouse.

You eyed suspiciously at the brick he was tossing absentmindedly. “What were you planning to do with that?”

“I wonder,” Ran mused, his eyes glinting with amusement. You had a feeling it would be what hit your window next if you hadn’t responded.

“It’s three in the morning.” The first three buttons of Ran’s shirt were open, and you finally managed to rip your eyes from him and glared at Rindou. “Are you trying to wake up the entire neighbourhood?”

Rindou blinked at you in confusion. “Who goes to sleep at three?”

“Oh, I don’t know, normal people?” You could feel a small headache starting to form. Common sense never seemed to apply to the Haitani brothers.

“Weaklings,” Rindou sniggered, and Ran nodded in agreement. You weren’t sure how both of them still managed to look so perfect without any sleep, while you looked like you crawled out from the depth of hell every time you pulled an all-nighter. Genes, probably. And the Haitani brother sure seemed to have received the best.

Ran turned to his brother with that same easy grin. “It’s like the scene in Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? Our princess is looking down at you from the balcony. What’s your next line, Romeo?”

Rindou’s eyebrows twitched. Before he could make a snarky comeback, you cut in. “You’ve actually read Shakespeare, Haitani Ran? I thought reading was a foreign concept to you.” You’ve never seen Ran with a book in all the years you’ve known him.

“The movie. Never have or will read that,” he replied without an ounce of shame.

“Wow, love how you can admit that with a straight face and look so proud. It makes me feel bad for having read it.” You were pretty sure the only thing Ran read was the menu in restaurants. Or maybe he just pointed at the pictures and ordered those.

“Are you coming down or are you gonna continue to stay up there and chat? My neck’s straining.” Rindou had dropped his rocks and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“No, I quite like this view of looking down on you.” You peered dramatically down at him. Ran burst out laughing, and Rindou only answered with a scowl. His mouth moved indecipherably. Probably cursing.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where you are bringing me. Last time you took me to an abandoned house and scared the shit out of me.”

“Not this time, I promise.” Ran looked at you with much sincerity as he could muster, yet he couldn’t quite hide the glint of amusement in his purple eyes.

“That’s what you said last time as well.” You threw him an accusatory glare.

“If you don’t come down I’ll wake up the entire street.” Ran threatened.

“How?” You challenged back.

“I’ll…” Rindou trailed off.

“Break everyone’s windows?” Ran suggested unhelpfully.

“Yeah, if that is what it takes.” From the looks of their faces you knew they would stay true to their word. The Haitani brothers always got their way.

With a resigned shake of your head, you said, “Fine, but I need to get ready.”

“Just come down as you are, you always take hours to get ready,” Rindou groaned. You felt offended. You never took hours. Just… maybe yeah, an hour or so.

“As you can see, we didn’t bring a tent,” Ran gestured towards their motorcycles.

“I look like a mess,” you complained. You had slept in your work clothes and hadn’t even cleaned off your makeup. If you looked up in a dictionary for the word ‘mess’ you are pretty sure you would find your picture pasted in there.

“A hot mess,” Ran smirked up at you, his tone taking on a flirtatious tone. And your heart responded with a quick double flip. Nice betrayal, you thought.

Rindou shrugged, “We’ve seen worse, like that time when you were studying for finals and were fueled purely by coffee-”

You grabbed the shoe box laying at the corner. Taking out a high heel, you threw it down at him. Luckily, your aim was spot on. It went flying at light speed towards your target. Unluckily, Rindou was quick to react. He dodged it before it stabbed him.

“What the fuck you crazy-”

“You saying something?” You held up the other high heels high in your hands. Rindou instantly clamped his mouth shut.

“A smart choice,” Ran mused at the side.

“You aren’t off the hook either,” you rounded on him. Ran lifted both of his arms in mock surrender.

“Just come down peacefully, will you? We aren’t trying to kidnap you.” Rindou rubbed the back of neck with a pained expression.

“More like blackmail. Can’t this wait? My parents are asleep, if I go down I’ll wake them up.”

“Then jump down, I’ll catch you.” He took a step back and held his arms wide open.

“I don’t trust the person who secretly ate all the ice cream, then filled the tub back with ice.” You folded your arms.

“Busted,” Ran grinned at his brother. “You thought she would never notice.”

“You ate some too,” Rindou snapped back. He turned back towards you. “Hurry up, my arms hurt.”

Seeing you still debating, Ran tossed the brick higher in the air.

Finally, knowing you could never win against them, you clambered on the window sill. You looked down below.

It wasn’t too high. Worst comes to worse, you’ll break a few bones. At least you can get a cast and ask for sick leave from work. Or your boss might just decide to fire you. So you closed your eyes and jumped, with the future of your job also hanging on the line.

Half of you were expecting Rindou to tumble down with you when he caught you. Instead, after falling weightless for a brief moment, strong arms caught you easily. When you opened your eyes, Rindou’s face was right next to yours. His sharp lilac eyes were gazing at you intently. He was way more handsome up close, and it took everything you had not to run your hand down his face.

He frowned slightly. “Have you been losing weight?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What are you, my personal scales? You should have told me earlier, then I wouldn’t have splashed out on that weight scale. Comes with the BMI measuring function too, can you do that?”

“No, but I know when and how much snacks you eat at night sometimes.” Rindou sniggered. You stuck your tongue at him before hopping off his arms. It was true, recently work has been stressful and you haven't been eating properly.

“Shall we get dinner afterwards then?” Ran smiled. It wasn’t a question.

“I’ll get fat if I eat so late at night,” you protested, already knowing it was a lost cause.

Rindou shrugged. “You could afford to eat more. You are way too thin.”

“Hmm what should we have,” Ran tilted his head towards the side, thinking.

“Dim sum,” Rindou instantly answered.

“I’m sure there are places that serve dim sum at three in the morning,” you said sarcastically.

Ran smiled lazily. “For us, yes.”

“So where are you kidnapping, you witches-”

Someone threw something over your head. “Hey!” You pulled it off. You were ready to throw it back when you saw it was Rindou’s jacket.

“Who in their right mind doesn’t bring a jacket when they come out at night?” Rindou spoke with his back to you. You didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears were slightly red.

“Well, who asks other people to go out with them at this hour?” You grumbled. You shoved your arms through his jacket. The smell of Rindou enveloped you completely, almost as if he was hugging you.

Ran had sauntered up. One of his gloved hands tilted your chin upwards and he gazed down at you with a smirk. “Hmm, maybe lovers?” He lowered his face down, and you could feel his breath against your lips.

You took a step back. “Is that why you and Rin were out so late? Whoops, my bad, didn’t mean to be a third wheel for you guys. Lemme go back-”

“Stop flirting,” Rindou shoved his way in between you. “Here, wear it.” He handed you a helmet.

“Someone’s jealous,” Ran sniggered.

Rindou ignored his brother. He sat on his motorcycle, then looked back at you expectantly. You sat behind him.

“She’s gonna sit behind me when we come back, won’t you, pretty girl?” Ran threw you a wink from his motorcycle. You rolled your eyes.

Rindou revved the engine and it came roaring to life. You wrapped your arms around Rindou’s waist. You could feel his firm muscles under his t-shirt.

“Rin?” You lifted your visor and called out to him, your chin rested on his shoulders.

“What?” He called back. He was gearing up the motor ready to drive.

“Did you work out more? Your abs are firmer.”

Rindou nearly crashed the motorcycle. Ran cackled so hard that he was nearly crying.

It took them a few minutes before they were able to drive.

Both motorcycles shot through the still night, sending howling winds screaming on either side of you. The headlights sliced through the darkness, lighting up the empty road in front of you. The scenery passed by in a blur, which spoke of the pace you were going at. You clutched Rindou harder.

Both of them never bothered to slow down, even at corners. In fact, they seemed to be speeding up. Gradually, more lights came twinkling into view, until they came to a stop at a place bustling with activity. Bright neon lights for all kinds of seemingly shady places hung off the buildings. It was a place that never slept.

The moment the people noticed the Haitani brother, they stopped and bowed. Some hurriedly scuttled away. However, Ran and Rindou didn’t seem to care. After they parked, Ran pulled loose his hair band. His long hair cascaded past his shoulders. He held his hair tie in between his teeth as he gathered his dark strands into a ponytail.

He smirked when he caught you looking at him.

“Trying to look perfect, Ran?”

“I always look perfect.” He pulled loose a few strands of hair. He really did. Not that you’ll ever admit it.

“Wow, someone’s ego sure is big. Don’t think the Earth is big enough for it.” You climbed off the motorcycle.

You walked in between them. Everyone gave them a wide berth. You always felt like a celebrity when you walked with them. Except people didn’t stare at celebrities with fear in their eyes.

“For the upteenth time, where are we heading-“

You tripped. How you trip over nothing is beyond you, but you do. You nearly gave Mother Earth a big kiss when a strong arm jerked you back.

“Owww,” you rubbed your shoulders that nearly got dislocated. “But thanks.”

“It’s amazing how you always manage to do that,” Rindou sighed. He grabbed your hands. “Shit why are your hands so cold?” He shoved your linked hands in his pocket.

Ran whistled at the side. “That was smooth, brother of mine.” He slipped one of his arms around your waist. “So you don’t trip,” he said with a smirk. Rindou snorted.

You came to a stop and a small door in an alleyway. You glanced around. There was no sign to indicate where you were. It could be a hideout for serial killers for all you know.

Rindou opened it without knocking. There was a staircase leading to the bottom. A terminally ill  lightbulb flickered overhead, providing almost no illumination.

“It looks like a staircase descending to hell,” you groaned.

“Exactly where we come from,” Ran answered cheerfully.

“The stairs are narrow, be careful.” Rindou went down first, but he didn’t let go of your hand.

You followed, groping your way down. One time you nearly missed your footing.

“I got you,” he muttered when you screamed. If he hadn’t been holding your hand tightly you were sure you would have tumbled down the stairs.

Once you reached the landing below, you were faced with a red curtain. Rindou pushed it apart. A bright light flooded into your eyes and you winced. Once your eyes adjusted, you recognised the furniture and equipment as a tattoo parlour.

A man with blonde and purple hair was in the centre of the room, preparing his equipment. He raised his head when you entered. He had droopy eyes, but there was a sharp glint in them. Your breath hitched. He was good looking. Wayyy too good looking.

“Heyyyyy Waka~” Ran threw open the curtains and came in behind you. “Here’s the little lady we told you about.”

The man called ‘Waka’ dropped his gaze to you and Rindou’s entwined hands. You quickly let go.

“You are late.” His voice was smooth. He spoke quietly, yet there was a steely undertone that spoke he wasn’t to be messed with.

“Sorry, sorry.” Ran laughed. You’ve never heard such an insincere apology in your life before. “It took a little convincing for her to come here.”

Ran placed a hand on your shoulders. He bent down until his face was next to yours. “This is Waka, Imaushi Wakasa. He’s the best tattooist here, no, in the whole of Tokyo. He’s pretty picky about his clients, and it took a good persuading for him to agree.”

“Sooooo why are we here? You want me to watch you and Rindou getting tattoos?”

“Getting matching tattoos, doll, all three of us.” Ran’s grin widened, his purple eyes glinting.

You stared at him open-mouthed.

Rindou laughed at your shell-shocked expression.

“Excuse me? You brought me out here for this? And you didn’t even ask me?”

“We’ll show you the design if you like,” Ran said.

“Afterwards,” Rindou finished with a snigger.

You groaned.

“Ladies first,” Ran gestured. You glanced at Wakasa who was lowering the tattoo chair until it was completely flat.

“Wait, hold on, where is this tattoo gonna be?”

Rindou tapped the base of your spine with a smirk.

“Are you kidding?!” A tattoo right on the spine is gonna hurt like hell.

Wakasa looked at you. His sharp gaze seemed to pierce right through you. “If she doesn’t want it then I won’t do it.”

“Do it for us, doll?” Ran peered into your face. He ran his thumb over the bottom of your lip. The corner of his mouth curved upwards. His smirk was irresistible, and he knew it. You could feel Rindou gazing at you too, and a third pair of eyes staring at your back.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh. You’ve always wanted a tattoo anyway. Just maybe not so early in the morning. You untucked your blouse and gathered it at your waist. You heard Wakasa snap on his gloves. At least the tattoo artist was hot.

Ran and Rindou sat on either side of you as you laid face down. You clutched both of their hands.

“I think our hands are going to get mauled today, little brother.” Ran chuckled seeing how tightly you were squeezing them already.

“Take off your gloves,” you scowled at Ran. If you were going to be hurting then both of them can at least share your pain.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl.” He smiled. He held your gaze, then, he brought his gloved hand up to his mouth, before biting the middle finger of his glove, and pulled it off with his teeth. It dropped into his lap. His smirk deepened when he saw you swallow. You averted your gaze with a huff. Cold fingers weaved through yours. Ran’s hands were always colder than Rindou’s. You gripped both of them tightly.

“It’s gonna be worth it,” Rindou answered with a grin.

You sure hoped so.

Masterlist | Support | 2021.11.06

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The Midnight Coconuts

Summary: Bucky and his girl take a trip to the grocery store. Several things are involved, including coconuts, a 25cent gum-ball machine, Avengers branded Jell-O, chocolate milk straight from the jug, and tampons.  Characters: Bucky x Reader Words: 3k Warnings: Some swearing. Insane levels of fluff. Dangerously adorable Bucky. One (1) random reference to Not Another Teen Movie. 

A/N: Listen, I will never be over silly domestic Bucky! I originally started this story before TFATWS came out and when I imagined Sam had a niece, so just go with it. Part of me wrote this, because I needed to convince myself that I love grocery shopping (one can only eat takeaway and Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken for so long) and the other part wrote this because I firmly believe domestic routines can be the most romantic adventures out there.

When the doors to the grocery store whoosh open with a gust of stale manufactured air, Bucky skids to an abrupt and dramatic stop.  

“WAIT!”

Behind him, you stumble in panic, fumbling with an armful of reusable grocery bags. Instantly you’re imagining spilled blood and stab wounds and clean ups on aisle three and god dammit, how can there be a problem? This is a grocery store at midnight on a Wednesday. Shouldn’t the forces of evil be sleeping? Why is it so impossible to get a day off work? Don’t they know you need rest? And peanut butter? And that you’re dangerously low on toilet paper?

The forces of evil are the worst.

Raising weary fists, you huff.

“What? Where is it?”

Bucky sidesteps toward a row of small red and green machines beside the entrance, falling to his knees and smushing his nose eagerly against the glass. Reaching a hand behind him, there are several impatient grabby motions, before he glances back.

“Babe, can you give me a quarter? I need a gum-ball.”

Planting a sneaker clad foot on his ass, you shove. Hard.  

“Bucky, we talked about this. Remember how you agreed to lower the drama and keep things in perspective? I thought we were under attack.”

“If I don’t get a green gum-ball,” he declares dramatically, “there will be an attack.”

Throwing the cloth bags at his face, you stomp off to retrieve a shopping cart, plunking your purse in the front and hunching over the handlebars.  

“I thought you said you were a millionaire now. Buy your own gum-ball.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Like I carry loose change,” he scoffs. “C’mon, just one quarter. Please?”

This time, he gives you the Look. That patented Bucky Barnes stare, with the wide eyes and full pouty lips and faux innocent expression, and if this man wasn’t the love of your life you’d quite happily stab him in the heart.

Instead, you open your purse and fish out a quarter, flinging it at his frustratingly pretty face. It bounces off his forehead and he scoops it up with a grin.

“So just to clarify. You came to the grocery store covered in knives, but you forgot to bring money?”

Giving you an indulgent smile, he jams the quarter into the slot. With a twist and shake, a gum-ball rattles free, and Bucky crows with delight when he sees the green candy. He pops it in his mouth. 

“I didn’t forget. I made a conscious decision to remove the temptation. If I bring cash, I’ll spend it. You know I ain’t great with that whole self control thing.”

“How encouraging to hear, from the man with knives pouring out his ass.”  

Jumping to his feet, he throws an arm around your shoulders. 

“Ass knives sound painful.”

“Depends on how sharp they are,” you mumble, pulling a carefully folded sheet of paper from your jacket.

“Excuse you? My knives are always perfectly sharpened, thank you very much. What kind of expert assassin runs around with dull knives? Damn baby, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

Ignoring him, you flatten out the paper and smooth the edges, sighing happily at the block letters and structured diagrams drawn in deep blue ink. 

Here it is, your masterpiece. A monument to productivity. The gold standard by which all optimization models should be benchmarked. This isn’t just any list, this is The List.

Everything is grouped, first by aisle, then by product location within the aisle, and then from top to bottom shelf order, to maximize efficiency. This is the dream list. The kind that inspires jealousy. The kind people hold up at TED talks when they talk about time management techniques. Marie Kondo wishes she had this list. 

Bucky snorts when he sees the carefully printed boxes.  

“God, you’re such a square,” he says adoringly. He plants a sugary wet kiss on your temple and you grind an elbow into his ribs.

“We discussed this, Bucky. Don’t mock my lists.” 

“Sorry babe, I ain’t mocking. Your lists are beautiful, they always get me all hot and bothered,” he agrees, dipping lower to lick behind your ear. “And I really love that list you keep with all those dirty, filthy, sex things you wanna do to me.”

“I don’t have a list like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky sighs, “and I don’t know how many more hints I can drop here.”

Reaching under his shirt, you rub his belly consolingly. “Okay then. This weekend I’ll sit down and make you a special list. One so disgusting and dirty and depraved, it would make Wade Wilson cry.”

Bucky laughs and squeezes you tighter. 

“About damn time honey. I’m equally parts terrified and horny. So where’re we headed first?”

“Produce,” you answer promptly, plowing forward, Bucky still chuckling beside you.

The whole scenario was ironic, actually. There was no need to grocery shop - automatic ordering mechanisms  across the Avengers tower rendered the task meaningless - but sometimes it was a welcome relief to partake in such an ordinary thing. Unable to sleep after one particularly terrible mission, you found yourself wandering the aisles of your 24-hour supermarket, dressed in pineapple adorned pajama pants and one of Bucky’s rattier sweatshirts, searching for ice cream. The unexpected symmetry of products arranged along the shelves, the rainbow hued produce, the hint of baking bread wafting from the ovens, all those everyday trappings of normality, they washed over like a soothing balm. Soon enough, the boiling bad thoughts simmered to nothing more than a cache of blurry memories.

When you got home, sleep came fast, deep and dreamless.

One month later, the idea struck again.

After 36 hours of Bucky tossing and turning, dark shadows bruising beneath weary blue eyes, you took his hand and led him down the dark street for a midnight adventure. He was skeptical, disbelieving that something so simple could chase away the insomnia. But he dutifully followed you, strolling aimlessly through the aisles, throwing odds and ends into the cart. 

The tension gradually eased, he began to relax, and suddenly? 

He was hooked.

An hour later, after arguing the health benefits of frosted Cheerios over oatmeal, poking each hunk of cheese in the display, and loading the cart with every single flavor of spaghetti sauce on the shelf, the heavy weight of remembering began to ease. When he collapsed into bed, he slept for eight hours straight.

I don’t know what that was, he swore the next morning, munching through his third bowl of frosted Cheerios, but it was magic.

And with that, a midnight ritual was born. Sometimes you make the trek alone, sometimes Bucky does the same, but whenever life permits you go together. This small slice of domesticity brings a warm comfort to this strange life.   

There is no doubt, this is your favorite area of the entire store.

Barrels filled with tart oranges and smooth red apples. Tables piled high with bananas, some just shy of yellow, others sunshine perfect, and a few with speckles of black (which are the best). Shelves lining the walls, overflowing with bundles of herbs and lettuce, all coated in a fine layer of mist. 

Bliss. 

Heading straight for the apples, you plunge into the Gala pile, rummaging until you come up with ten perfect ones. Peaches follow, fingers rubbing along the delicate pinky-orange fuzz. Squeeze, smell, squeeze, smell. Five are chosen for a pie (Sam pleaded shamelessly until you agreed to make him one), and in the cart they go. Heading toward the wall of herbs, you’re reaching for the basil when a metallic bang makes you jump. Spinning around, you find Bucky lobbing coconuts into the cart.

“We need these.”

“We really don’t, Buck. I hate coconut, it tastes like suntan lotion.”

“They’re not for eating,” he grabs an apple, wipes it on his shirt, and takes a juicy bite. “They’re for security.”

Sticky juice drips from his lip, catching in his beard. When you reach over to swipe it away, he nips your finger with a grin.

“Explain please.”

“See it’s like this. We’re just here shopping, doin’ our thang -”

“Don’t say thang.”

“- when someone attacks. What happens? BAM. One of these furry beauties breaks their face. Problem solved.”

Giving him a slow perusal, you raise an eyebrow.

“Were the 47 knives you’re carrying not enough to deflect this attack?”

Finishing off the apple in three sloppy bites, he carefully tucks the price sticker in his pocket so he can scan it before leaving and sets the mangled core beside your purse.

“Babe, these are my back-up plan. A good soldier always has a back-up plan.”

While you grab a bottle of extra-pulpy orange juice, Bucky picks two jugs of chocolate milk, snaps one open and takes a swing. Ever the thrifty shopper, he pulls a familiar bag from his back pocket, fishes out a crumpled piece of newspaper, and dangles it before you.

“Found a coupon for this,” he says gleefully. “Buy one, get one free. It’s called a BOGO. A BOGO. Hilarious, right? Fuck me, I love the future.”

Still laughing, he takes another long drink of chocolate milk and smacks his lips.

It was a lazy Sunday morning when you discovered this particular habit. Walking into the living room, you found Bucky buried in a sea of Sunday newspaper, tongue between his teeth and scissors in hand while he clipped coupons. He wasn’t picky, if it was remotely interesting, it went into the YES pile. It was one of those random things that brought him inordinate levels of joy, so of course you encouraged it. On his last birthday, you gifted him with a green zippered bag decorated with angry looking owls and official looking letters stitched across the front:

Bucky’s Coupon Bag  Thriftn’ Machine Since 1917

He laughed for five straight minutes and then stuffed it full. The bag accompanies you on every trip and the sight of Bucky excitedly rifling through his wad of coupons still makes your heart swell.  

Setting aside his BOGO, Bucky continues down the aisle, leaving you to pause in front of the yogurt. While you contemplate the merits of blackberry vs strawberry, Bucky slides over holding three cans of Reddi-Whip. 

“Are you actually planning to eat that? I thought you said whipped air is for, and I quote, ‘spineless, tasteless trash heathens’?”

Bucky shakes the can of spray whipped cream and wiggles his eyebrows, leveling you with a sultry stare. 

“Hell no I’m not eating it. This is for the bedroom. Last week I watched this god-awful movie where some blond guy - who looked exactly like Steve, by the way - made himself a whipped cream bikini for his girl. Decided I’m gonna do that for you. You’re welcome.”

“That sounds gross and unsanitary.” 

“If by gross and unsanitary you mean spicy and sexy, then yes. Yes it does.”

Whistling what sounds like the theme music from a bad porn, he adds two tubs of honey swirled Greek yogurt, pats your butt, and strolls ahead, throwing a roughish wink over his shoulder. Imagining the melted whipped cream soaking into your bedsheets, you mentally add more laundry detergent to the list.

“Hang on, turn here.”

Tugging the cart behind him, Bucky stalks toward the feminine hygiene display. It takes him a minute to scan the products before squatting down to the bottom shelf. Grabbing two jumbo boxes of tampons, oddly enough the brand you prefer, he pops back to his feet.  

“Dare I ask why you need these?”

A faint pink flush crawls up his neck.  

“Well, you know, two reasons. They’re really great for stopping bloody noses, you know? Just poke ‘em up there and they soak it all up.”

 He mimes the execution and adds a thumbs up.

“And the second reason?”

Squinting at his boots, he shuffles his feet a bit. The pink flush deepens. 

“Um, you know - I know you’re out, since I stuck the last one up Steve’s nose last week, and yeah. Anyway. It’s about that time. Of the month. For you.”

Clearing his throat, he reaches for his chocolate milk, but you grab his wrist.  

“You know when my period’s going to start?”

He shrugs self-consciously and fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.  

“Well yeah. You think it’s just a coincidence when all your favorite candy shows up every month?” Looking up, he shoots you a crooked smile and leans over the cart to kiss your forehead. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you haul him in for a real kiss instead and his startled laughter tickles your lips. When you break away, those bright blue eyes are shining. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmur.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

This is the aisle where the cart officially explodes.

Lasagna noodles.

Egg noodles.

Spaghetti noodles.

Penne.

Linguine. 

Fettuccine.

Literally one of every noodle is selected, because Bucky Barnes is a self-proclaimed noodle slut. 

As you organize the boxes and search for orzo, you see him furtively add an extra bag of elbow macaroni. A quiet cough hides your laughter.

The last time Sam’s four-year-old niece came to the tower, she and Bucky spent hours making glittery elbow macaroni necklaces, which they ceremoniously gifted to everyone. When Sam casually mentioned her enthusiastically telling everyone at pre-school about her friend Bucky and how much fun she had visiting him, Bucky ran to a craft store and bulk bought supplies of glue, string, paint, and glitter, just in case she comes over again.

Months later and the entire team are still finding puddles of glitter all over the tower, but the delight on Bucky’s face anytime someone mentions that arts and crafts afternoon? 

It’s worth the mess.     

Gathering up brown sugar, instant oats, and chocolate chips, you turn to drop them in the cart when Bucky makes a strangled noise. Glancing over, you find him bouncing on his toes, vibrating with excitement.

“Babe. Babe. Are you making monster cookies?”

Adding a can of raisins, you search for the good vanilla. The kind that actually tastes like vanilla, not a cheap car wash air freshener. 

“I promised I would,” you remind him. Bucky plasters himself against your back, wrapping you in an enthusiastic hug and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“I love those fucking cookies,” he declares. “They’re my favorite thing ever. Next to you I mean.”

Finding the vanilla, you spin in his arms and return the squeeze.  

“I know you do. But you have to share them this time, okay? You can’t just eat them all yourself like the last two times. Agree?”

“Agree…to disagree. They’re wasted on other people, no one else loves as much. It’s for the best when I eat them all, it’s proof how much I love you. I’m doing it for you. I’m supporting you. Because I love you.”

“You’re completely full of shit,” you reply.

“I swear I’m not! Just listen!”

The excuses grow longer and wilder as Bucky outlines his rationale against sharing, walking backward and dragging the cart with him as he pleads his case. He’s diving into the science of super soldier metabolism levels and caloric requirements and the fact that his sister never shared anything with him, when he bumps into a tall display. 

He pulls up short, eyes narrowing. Plunking his fists on his hips, he growls a disgruntled sigh and glares at the rows of packaging. 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Lined up in neat rows, you see boxes of Jell-O organized by color and flavor. On the cover of each are an assortment of familiar images.  

“Are these Avengers themed Jell-O?” you ask, picking up a box with Sam’s image and the words Wild Berry Wilson. The rows extend further, filled with Lime Green Hulk and Blue Raspberry Rogers and Black Cherry Widow and Strawberry Lemon Stark. Exasperated, Bucky grabs the Sparkling Orange Spider flavor. 

“Is this for real? The kid gets one and I didn’t? Someone in PR is getting fired.”

“Well there’re only so many flavors, Buck,” you point out practically, but Bucky’s not in the mood for logic. Instead, he swipes an entire shelf of Jell-O flavors into the cart.  

“I swear to god, I have to do everything around here. Fine then. I’ll make my own flavor, Blackberry Kiwi Soldier or Winter Watermelon Rainbow, or something.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Anyway, I’ll work on the name. But I’m bringing it to dinner tomorrow night and everyone is gonna eat it.”

He dumps in a bag of mini-marshmallows and grabs sprinkles for topping, before marching down the aisle. Cringing at the volume of sugar in the cart, you make another mental note to schedule a dentist appointment.

“Go do your manly duty and find the meat. We need two 5lb rump roasts.”

“I like your rump roast,” he instantly responds and reaches over to smack your butt again. Anticipating the move, you catch his arm and twist it behind his back. He barks out a breathless laugh and you slap his ass in return.

“Your innuendos are tragic.”

Releasing him with a gentle shove, Bucky snatches up his three coconuts and ambles away, laughing while he juggles them. When he returns, he has the requested rump roasts, several packages of bacon, and a bundle of cocktail shrimp.

“If my innuendos get better, then can I touch your butt?”

“Maybe. But they better be real good.”

An added benefit to shopping at midnight? Not a soul in line.

Loading everything onto the conveyer belt, you automatically organize for bagging. Boxes together, produce together, meat together. Bucky adds a pack of batteries, a tin of mints, and some trashy magazines.

The last three items in the cart are his coconuts. They rattle around until you toss them at him, motioning back to the produce department. 

“We made it out alive. Go put them back.”

Still chomping his tasteless green gum-ball, he shakes his head and plops them down. 

“Nah, I have another idea for them. Got all those craft supplies at home, I’m gonna make you something.”

“Should I even ask?”

Bucky blows a huge, wet bubble and looks you up and down.

“Have you every worn one of those coconut bras? Like on TV, with the ladies in grass skirts? I’m gonna make you one. I already have string and glue. And glitter.”

“I think you may be overestimating your crafting abilities.” Digging out your credit card, you wait for the final tally. 

“Well, if it’s terrible then you’ll just be naked. Either way, I win.”

Shaking out your grocery sacks, he packs everything with Tetris-like efficiency and slides all of them up the vibranium arm.   

“How about I make you a deal. I’ll wear a coconut bra, if you’ll make yourself something to wear as well.”

Bucky blows another sugary bubble, pondering the idea.

“Like a coconut man thong?”

“Exactly like a coconut man thong.”

“Deal. Add it to that special dirty list you’re making me honey. We got loads to do.” 

Outside, the night air smells sweet and cool, the barest hint of a spring rain and fresh grass lingering on the breeze. Already, your eyes are feeling heavy, tonight’s quiet adventure ushering in that sought after peace. 

In your right hand, the three coconuts swing gently in their plastic sack. Humming under his breath, Bucky yawns, reaching for your other hand. His warm, calloused palm squeezes tight, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin.

He turns to you with a sleepy, lopsided smile.

Midnight and coconuts.  

It always does the trick.

***