#& my inbox is still open it just might take me a minute depending on what it is lol

[rosesradio]

thank y’all for all the prompts in my inbox, i can’t believe i have 8 of them 😭 i can’t wait to get to them all when i can 💌

(for anyone interested in what’s coming up, in no particular order i have a jasico smut, a jercy smut, another valdangelo smut, some valgrace angst, 3 reqs for leo x reader headcanons, and one apollo/lester x reader 🌸)

[uglypastels]

wearing eddie’s hellfire shirt and him just sorta malfunctioning when he sees you >>>

no but you are so right!!

no explicit warnings?? morning after. kissing/making out. swearing.

masterlist // inbox // add yourself to my taglist

‘Baaaaabe’, Eddie groaned as he felt the other side of the bed lose its warmth. You had woken up a few minutes ago and told him you would be back in a second, yet many seconds passed. You still were nowhere to be seen… not that he did see anything as Eddie had his face burrowed deep into his pillow, trying not to wake up properly just yet. ‘Come back to bed; I miss you.’ His voice sounded muffled through the pillow, but it carried through the entire trailer. 

‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ you couldn’t help but laugh as you jogged back into his bedroom. You were greeted with the sight of Eddie’s bare back, his arms spread wildly, his hair a nest atop his head. Your clothes were splayed all over the room, together with his, as a result of the night before. 

‘Are you there?’ he mumbled, shuffling around, not getting up just yet. ‘Stop staring and just get in here.’ His voice was so gravelly and coarse, having just woken up. 

‘I wasn’t staring,’ you denied the allegation, most definitely doing what you were being accused of as you leaned against the door, with the goofiest smile on your smile. You couldn’t believe that this got to be your morning, and it could become a regular thing, too. 

‘Yeah, yeah, and I’m not— is that my shirt?’ Eddie had finally rolled over and looked over his shoulder at you, and the sight of you standing before the bed immediately made him lose track of any of his thoughts. He rubbed his eyes open quickly. 

‘Oh, uhh, yeah. I couldn’t find my shirt, so I just took yours– I hope that’s alright?’ maybe you should have asked before just taking and putting it on. You were ready to apologise and take it off, but Eddie stepped in: 

‘Yeah, absolutely, sweetheart. Fuck— you look–’ he laughed sheepishly, completely lost for words. 

‘Look what?’ you couldn’t help but tease his rattled expression. Eddie just looked so cute when he was flustered. 

‘Just– ugh, there are no words.’ he grabbed for his chest, pouting dramatically. But you weren’t easily satisfied. 

‘C’mon, try.’ 

‘Will you at least get back in bed if I do?’ he bargained. 

‘I think that depends on what you decide to say next, isn’t it?’ 

‘Oh, you are cruel,’ he glared at you, to which you only responded with a shrug. Eddie laughed to himself. ‘You… are… just the most…oh fuck, please just come here.’ 

‘You’re lucky you’re cute, Munson.’ You rolled your eyes, walking over back to the bed. But even that took too long for Eddie’s liking, and he pulled you in by the arm as soon as he could reach you, making you fall right on top of him. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you tightly, kissing every inch of your skin accessible to him. 

‘All this because of a shirt?’ you asked, giggling, knowing fully well you could get so much worse about him for so much less. He kept kissing you but nodded at your question. 

‘Don’t you ever take it off,’ he said once he pulled away from your collarbone to look you in the eyes. ‘This might honestly be the hottest thing you’ve ever worn.’

‘A bit conceited, considering it's your shirt.’ you booped his nose with your finger, which Eddie tried to catch with his teeth before you pulled back. At this moment, you were sitting in his lap; legs draped over his from each side. 

‘You know what I mean.’ He kissed your neck a second after saying that, and you would have replied with something witty that might have ruined the moment because you would both burst out laughing, but his touch felt too good.

‘Ok, I’m getting a bit cold now; let me get back under.’ Much to Eddie’s protests, you got off his lap and slipped under the blanket. Eddie was, of course, quick to pull you into a tight embrace and made sure you warmed up quickly. Spooning you from behind in the early morning hours, you could fall back to sleep if it weren’t for the feeling that someone kept looking at you. 

‘Stop staring,’ you mumbled, poking him. 

‘Wasn’t.’ He mumbled right back, kissing your shoulder. ‘Logistically impossible from this angle.’ 

the end.

thank you for reading! please reblog and comment (maybe leave a review??) I would love to think what you thought of it <3

taglist:

@spiderrrling @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @niyahwhoreworld @chatnoirfangirl1624 @fopdoodle1624 @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @prettytoxix @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @ssanjuniperoo @nxrdamp @meaganjm @yourmommilf @mischiefmanagers @roseyykris @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweater @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbaker @sleeping-willlow @lizzylynch1 @liltimmys @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-blog @miscelaa @sweetpeapod @the-a-word-2214 @eddiemunsonbby @wh0re4munson @eddiesdingus @zoeyquinn94 @munsonmunchies @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @groupies-do-it-better @stitchity @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @witchyrivers @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington @thornbrainsworld

[monstersinthecosmos]

Anne has written countless sex scenes. Vampires are not ace. Some are. Gabrielle for example. She's also trans, or gender queer. But broadly claiming them all as ace has no grounds at all. You assume that sex has to involve genitals. It doesn't.

So I received this anon within like literal minutes of making this post, which TLDR said hey can we stop invalidating every time someone has an ace read of VC. And I debated whether or not to answer this because frankly, I find it quite mean-spirited and rude in context to the post I made, and as a rule I don't really like to publish salty anons in my space. 

I also don't feel like a long response is necessarily warranted here because you don’t seem interested in a conversation and I’m not sure it’s productive to discuss this to you directly when you might not hear it. I have, many times in fandom, been laughed at for being too passionate or vulnerable and if you’re the type of person who’s gonna shut down what I have to say by making fun of me, I can’t do anything about that. That's a You Problem. Still, I can talk about this topic because it's important to me and because I want to, and the fact that I received this message in my inbox at all proves to me I need to talk about it even more lol.

And honestly, I REALLY hate the vague post bullshit culture on tumblr, like I've always tried to qualify my posts by saying I'm not the only person with an opinion that matters. No one has to agree with me and I know that fandom is not a monolith and I cannot possibly capture every person’s perspective at all times. And honestly? I shouldn’t have to. None of us should have to. It takes very little for someone to just read a post with good faith and not assume the worst of somebody for sharing something personal that doesn’t match their exact life experience. And I've always been open to a conversation if I get something wrong, I think I have a pretty good track record of being genuine about that. 

Cause I can just see it already that if i respond to this rude, worst-faith-possible anon with a huge essay, people are gonna be like LMAAAO IT BOTHERED YOU SO MUCH and like so what if it bothers me? I'm a fucking person, dude.  Like I have feelings just like everyone else? Idk man like I'm not a fuckin edgelord 22 year old who thinks having feelings is cringe, sorry I want to be a person. Yes it bothers me. I don't appreciate this. It's fucking rude and you know it's rude.

But I want to repeat some of the points I made in case you missed them, also because of the overwhelming support I've gotten from fellow aces in fandom. This is exactly the type of attitude I was talking about. I said "There is room for an ace read and you don't have to invalidate asexuals to share your version" and you immediately (within minutes of me posting) come to me saying that I have "no grounds" and then explain genitals to me. Thank you! I appreciate the stereotype that you think I've never had sex, that's very forward thinking .

I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it: My point is that you don't have to invalidate aces to share your opinion.

Let's get into this though.

"Anne has written countless sex scenes."

This is funny because it depends if you think the sex has to involve genitals (I don't think it does) and it depends if you read a vampire pleasuring a human as mutually satisfying. Some examples I can think of are: Armand watching Daniel with others, Lestat eating out that chick in Memnoch, all the Marius/Armand content, Marius & Armand with Bianca,  & that weird shit in Vittorio. Even so I wouldn't necessarily call that "countless", I think I can actually list these scenes on my fingers lol. 

Like this is what I'm saying. I can read those scenes as vampires playing with their food and offering a physical human experience. I really love this dynamic between Daniel & Armand in particular as sEEN BY THE MESS THAT IS MY AO3 PAGE LOL, because it's a constant push-pull of miscommunication of how to physically pleasure each other.

I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it: You don't have to invalidate the aces in fandom by denying it so loudly. 

And like, yes she has written countless scenes! The other half of her career was erotica!!! But the vampires were specifically not sexual. She talked about it a lot. This is a quote I really like from her: 

"I see the vampires as deeply loving all sorts of people. Once they are made vampires, they transcend gender and sexual desire. Their loves have to do with the essence of the person."

I can think of twice in VC where two vampires have sex, and both were Pandora/Marius in her book. 

Which brings me to:

"Vampires are not ace."

Both Marius/Pandora scenes are full of commentary about how it feels like nothing. That they're capable of doing it (same goes for Ursula/Vittorio) but that it's useless and doesn't excite either of them. It’s not a matter of their parts not working, it’s a matter of them not desiring sex. 

There are also three examples I can think of where vampires are experiencing sex for their own pleasure: the two scenes in TOBT when Lestat is in the human body and his fuckin like vampire sex injection in PL. And this is a larger conversation about what asexuality means and I’m happy to entertain all angles, because this is a conversation about “does the Dark Gift fundamentally change your sexuality or does it stay with you in your mind?” (My entire point was that it DOES change your sexuality if you do an asexual read, even though I stated it wasn’t the only read.) But I personally see Lestat as wanting these things out of curiosity for the experience. Even in TOBT when he’s trying to get with David he’s making it more about needing to get to fuck a man while he still has the body, ie: an experience. 

This resonates with me a lot!!!! I know a lot of ace people who are into sex conceptually like kink, or who will try it sometimes out of curiosity. Everyone I’ve fucked in the past 10 years since I accepted my asexuality was out of curiosity LOL. It’s a thing that ace people can do, we’re not all sex-repulsed.

I want to share a quote from the AVEN website--which I really recommend to EVERYONE because it’s a great resource-- ”Many asexual people may experience forms of attraction that can be romantic, aesthetic, or sensual in nature but do not lead to a need to act out on that attraction sexually.”

I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it: … it's this thing in the universe that they are no longer restrained by human social constructs. They love everyone, they can be attracted to anyone. But similarly, they don't have sex, and that attraction is not sexual in nature. Asexuality does not mean celibacy, but it does mean you are not experiencing sexual attraction.

This point that Pandora makes, the evidence that it feels like nothing and means nothing, also goes back to the idea of servicing a human as a favor to them that the vampire doesn't receive pleasure from. 

Another helpful quote from AVEN: “Asexual people may still feel physical pleasure from activities that are sensual, but not sexual. This may include things like cuddling, kissing, or other forms of physical contact or embrace that fall short of sex while still fulfilling their needs. Different people have different levels of intimacy they require, and that’s no less true for asexual people – aside from not needing sex.”

As a counterpoint to your claim that there are “countless” sex scenes, I’d say there are countless examples of vampires explaining that sex feels like nothing and they only want to drink blood. 

I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it: (There is of course space here to translate what hunger/Blood means in regards to sexuality and I get that. You can read it more than one way.)

To come at me like I stated this is an absolute is really unfair, like. Again I’m here wondering if this is worth responding to because it’s in such horrifically bad faith, but. I think fandom needs to see this. 

I say: There is ample evidence in the text that the vampires can be read as ace, even if you see other ways to read it, but being a dick about it is not necessary.

You, immediately in my inbox: Being a dick about it.

Cool, got it.

“Gabrielle for example. She's also trans, or gender queer.”

I’m really curious your logic on this one, because Gabrielle was never confirmed trans or genderqueer. I don’t understand why you’re allowed to state this as an absolute, but I’m not allowed to say that vampires can be read as asexual.

I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it: Basically, I think younger folks in fandom need to understand that ace identity is still fairly new, especially considering how old these books are. I mean even AR herself spoke often about how she was genderfluid or non-binary without once ever adopting it as an identity. Perhaps she wasn't aware? I barely expect regular people TODAY to know about asexuality. I have to explain it every time I come out to somebody. I don't expect 20, 30, 40 year old novels to get it.

Anne Rice spoke often about gender, both in regards to herself and to her work. We see this several times in her books, too. Gabrielle is the most beloved, but Bianca was doing stuff like this too. 

Fans even asked Anne if Gabrielle was trans, and she said no. 

But I like the idea that Gabrielle is trans! I think it reads!!!!! It totally makes sense. But I see the way Anne spoke about her OWN gender and I wonder if she didn’t have the tools to articulate it back in the 70s/80s. That was the point I made about asexuality as well. 

It doesn’t have to be literal, on the page. Lestat doesn’t have to tell us he’s ace in those words. 

I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it: I don't think she wrote them intentionally to be ace rep.

In fact, there’s a really interesting timeline of the history of asexuality as we know it, like when it was first discussed, when the term was coined as we use it today, etc. It’s almost entirely confined to academic papers in the 70s & 80s when this universe was being built. I also think it does good to remember that tumblr is an echochamber and you’re probably surrounded by likeminded queer people, and the reality is that the normies outside do not know what asexuality is. It’s STILL barely discussed. 

And there is such a rich history of literature where characters are queer-coded, whether intentionally or not, because the author either wasn’t allowed to talk about it or didn’t know how to talk about it. There are so many historical figures that we are looking back on and asking if they were actually trans. Ask how often queer theory involves combing over old texts for clues lol.

There are also several points in VC that imply autistic/neurodiverse traits in the characters and like. That was not talked about until quite recently. So many times you see these traits in older novels and you have to wonder if the author was modeling it after themselves or someone they knew, and it’s interesting to wonder what it was based on. But just because it’s not on the page, literally, doesn’t mean it can’t be discussed. Especially books from decades where these concepts weren't readily available to the general public.

Anyway, I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it: The way you read the book isn't the ONLY way to read it, and there's space for everybody. And no one is asking you not to read your version or have your headcanons. You can do all those things without telling ace fans that they're wrong.

“You assume that sex has to involve genitals. It doesn't.”

Tbh I’m a little lost on this point because I’m not sure where I said that, but in case you missed it, I did say: I'm not really thrilled about some of the conversations I see in VC fandom around asexuality. 

Like, again. Yknow what, I try really hard to be kind to people in this fandom, and I’ve always done my best to be approachable, but this is such a condescending, fucked up thing to message to a stranger. 

(I also said: Like, I'm not here to give a sex ed lesson, but asexuality is a spectrum.) 

Honestly how dare you. I don’t even know what to say to this. Thanks for allosplaining genitals to me, Anonymous Tumblr User Who Has Never Met Me. 

“But broadly claiming them all as ace has no grounds at all.”

I saved this one for last because what a completely preposterous thing to say.

I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it: So basically, I don't want to hear that VC vampires aren't asexual. Even if it's imperfect or unintentional, there is room for that reading. 

I’m not sure what you hoped to accomplish by dropping this in my inbox, to be honest. Like, I said numerous times all over the post that there’s more than one way to read it and you don’t need to be an asshole to people. 

I think YOU claiming that there’s no grounds at all has no grounds at all! HOW BOUT THAT!

Like there is AMPLE evidence in the text, I’ve pointed a few parts out but like, ??? Did we read the same books? 

I love this topic, honestly. I said so in my post about how it made me feel seen and less weird reading these books, and you can see in the notes on my post that it isn’t an uncommon response to VC. This resonated with a lot of people. 

But I’m not gonna sit here and go through all of it on your ask, because frankly the aces in fandom deserve better than that. We deserve to talk about this when we feel like it without acephobes jumping in our inboxes to tell us we’re wrong. We shouldn’t have to be on the defense every time it comes up, and have to fight for space in a fandom for books about arguably asexual vampires. Like idk maybe I’m an Old Person but I’m not sure when Don’t Like Don’t Read fell out of fashion. If you don’t like asexual reads of VC, you could simply continue to scroll and not take time out of your day to hurt someone’s feelings! How did it make you feel to tell me I'm wrong? What was the outcome supposed to be?

You aren’t even the fuckin first, that’s what’s so sad about this. I say, “It would be nice if people could discuss asexuality in VC without a bunch of dickheads trying to invalidate us” and you saw that as an opportunity lol. And I’m glad to share this ask as an example, because this does happen, and it’s honestly so sad.  

It’s absolutely laughable for you to say there’s no grounds. I don’t even know where to start, it’s all over every one of the books lol. 

And tbh I not going to try to make more points about this. It’s done to death. And for you to come in my inbox saying this is just honestly so insincere. 

Every other day I’m seeing posts from people saying they wish this fandom wasn’t so nasty to each other and it’s like. I don’t get it, why are you behaving like this?

As a policy I try not to post salty anons, and as a policy I try to be friendly and approachable to everyone, but I didn’t survive being violently bullied as a kid to lie down for mean jerks on tunglr dot com.

This isn’t something I tolerate and I’m going to publish it so that everyone else knows they don't have to tolerate it either. 

I hope people write more about asexuality in VC and bring up more meta and quotes and all the other ways it comes up and that they feel safe doing so, because this is honestly ridiculous. Anne did enough damage to this fandom HERSELF, there’s no need for this infighting and high school bullshit. 

I'll repeat something I said in my original post in case you missed it:  I just think in some of these fandom conversations it wouldn't hurt to be more sensitive to these other takes, because it was personal for us too.

I’m not sure how you took my post as an invitation to invalidate my read, tell me there’s no room for my interpretation, and mansplain my orientation to me while simultaneously erasing my experience of it. I can’t see a situation where a person does this for any purpose except to be hurtful.

So idk man, mission accomplished I guess?

[silversatoru]

Ok ok- don’t judge me but get this- College AU, Where Ereh and his friends all go to a nearby maid cafe and turns out his s/o works there, and his s/o is wearing a EXTREMELY short maid outfit and she starts to flirt with Eren’s friends, and basically Eren had enough and dragged his s/o to a bathroom stall, and fucked them calling y/n their little slut, etc. and fucked them so hard they couldn’t work the rest of the day- BYE- 🏃🏻‍♀️ 💨 🚪

maid cafe

a/n: i would never judge you for this???? your mind is incredible and this idea has corrupted my brain for days,, please send more of your wonderful ideas to my inbox. and please let me know what u think bc i truly hope i did u proud

eren yeager x female maid cafe!reader

synopsis: eren and his friends go to a maid cafe and his new girlfriend is their waitress — so he drags her to the bathroom and makes sure she knows who she belongs to

tags/warnings: smut, dom/sub, degrading, mild humiliation, mirror sex, public sex, mentions of drug use

word count: 3.4k

“hey, we should check out that maid cafe downtown. i heard the waitresses are fine,” jean smirked as he proposed the idea, passing a blunt he’d just finished rolling over to eren.

eren graciously accepted the weed, but clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at jean’s new idea for their friday night. a maid cafe wasn’t particularly up his alley -- he’d just started dating you a few weeks ago and didn’t have any interest in drooling over other women all night. but he was bored and if everyone else wanted to go, he supposed he’d tag along too.

“hell yeah, pretty girls in short skirts sounds good to me,” connie jived, a giddy smile on his face as he blew out some smoke from his own blunt.

“don’t you think that kind of place is a little disrespectful, guys? we shouldn’t view women as-”

“you’re too uptight armin, maybe we can find a nice girl to suck you off and loosen you up a little bit” jean laughed and cut him off as the blonde boy continued to give his immature friends a disapproving look.

“whatever i’m in, just let me finish this first,” eren held up his blunt and took another long drag, “i wont be able to stand you assholes all night if im not high”.

the four of them hung around their shared four-bedroom college apartment a little longer, finishing up their smoke sesh and flinging half-assed insults at one another. the sky was already getting dusky by the time they actually left and were walking through the small, bustling town surrounding their campus. the cafe wasn’t too far, maybe a thirty minute walk, but it was a beautiful spring night and shit, gas is expensive.

armin’s face was horribly flushed when they finally arrived and entered the front door, the poor boy completely unable to even make eye contact with the hostess standing in front of them. his shyness earned him a swift elbow from eren — his way of telling the blonde boy to relax a little bit.

the young hostess spoke to them in a sing-song tone, her hair perfectly curled to frame her face and her cheeks pink with blush. connie and jean completely ate up everything she was doing, gawking at her like a bunch of losers who hadn’t gotten laid in way too long — which is exactly what they were. eren was almost relieved when she finally sat them at a table and walked away, because he couldn’t stand to listen to jeans' horrendous attempt at flirting any longer.

everything on the menu had cute names that matched the theme of the cafe, and while eren and armin browsed the options, connie and jean continued to whisper about the different waitresses and which one they hoped they got.

as for you, it had been a pretty uneventful night, normal customers and nothing too crazy — that was until you walked up to the newest table you were assigned and saw your boyfriend and his friends sitting around the booth. eren and you hadn’t been dating all that long, a few weeks at most, and you hadn’t even met any of these friends yet. anxiety began to pool in your chest, but you tried your best to put on your best voice and greet them like they were any other table — after all, eren was staring so intently at the menu that he hadn't even noticed you yet.

“welcome home, masters! can i get any drinks for you?” you push your voice up to a high octave and make sure to draw out the word masters — it was the opening line that every waitress was required to use by the cafe.

two of the four boys are ogling at you so intensely that they might as well have drool hanging off their desperate lips. a third boy is keeping his eyes fixated on the table as if he doesn’t want to look at you — which is something you’re not quite used to. and eren is staring at you with his mouth gaping open, which he quickly shuts before any of his friends can notice.

he decided to sit back and watch, an amused look on his face as you continue to flaunt your extra-girly facade. he decides that now isn’t a great time for introductions to his bonehead friends — plus he knows you’re nothing like this in real life, so it’s entertaining to watch you act so out of character.

not to mention you look hot as fuck in your skimpy maid outfit — the tight corset-like top hugged your breasts perfectly and your skirt was so short he could practically see the base of your ass cheeks. he could definitely get used to seeing you like this.

but his amusement quickly started to fade as connie and jean shamelessly showered you in compliments and flirted with you like their lives depended on it. and what makes it worse is you’re playing along — he gets that it’s your job but still, can’t you just tell them to shut the fuck up?

he shoots the two idiots across from him a dirty look as soon as you walk away, “hey dumbasses, cut the girl a break”.

“hey man, i didn't hear you call dibs or anything,” connie raised an eyebrow at him.

“yeah dude, we’re just fucking around, chill,” jean added, a light laugh hanging off his last word.

eren couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes in response. he didn’t want to outright expose your relationship yet but he wouldn’t be able sit here and watch this all night either.

his blood was practically boiling when you returned with a tray full of their drinks. connie and jean turned their charms right back on for you, and fuck, if he had to hear you call them “master” one more time he was gonna lose his mind.

“armin get the fuck out of the booth,” he glared at the blonde boy, practically pushing him out of the booth so he could get to you.

armin yet out a small yelp, clambering out of his seat and letting eren climb out after him. the dark haired boy gave you the sweetest smile, but his eyes were lit up like flames.

“hey, mind showing me where the bathrooms are?”

you find yourself frozen in place for just a second, but quickly recover and give him a quick “of course master, follow me!”

the two of you walk to the bathroom in silence, but you can practically feel the heat radiating off of eren.

when you reached the restrooms you opened the door for him and bowed your head, but he grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside behind him, earning a small yelp from you. you noticed him snap the lock down behind him, and before you could even question his motives you were backed into a wall with his lips working roughly against yours.

“so this is what you do all day? walk around with your ass hanging out while calling people master?” he growled in your ear while moving down towards your neck and placing violent kisses along the sensitive skin.

“i- ah- if it bothers you-“ you breath out between gasps, your hands pressed defensively to his chest, “god, you reek of pot, eren”.

“no, it doesn't bother me, i love watching you flirt with other men. but let me remind you who you actually belong to now,” he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nibbled up to your ear and his hands fondled with the zipper at the back of your uniform.

“eren!” a strangled yelp leapt from your throat as he unzipped you and let your costume fall around your ankles.

for a second you thought about trying to stop him, but his hot lips against your cool skin was starting to win you over. your neck was undoubtedly covered in bruised love marks now, your skin aching in the most beautiful way.

“take it all off,” he mumbled into your ear as he snapped the strap of your bra against your skin.

“we’re in a bathroom eren, i don’t-“ you tried to reason with him, but any inkling of a rational thought was long gone from his mind.

“what’s with all the protests? you had no problem following orders when my friends were the ones giving them,” he cocked an eyebrow at you and lifted his loose shirt over his head in one swift motion.

you could have retorted or made a jab back at him, but your attention was caught up in the perfect lines of eren’s physique. between the sculpted curves of each of his muscles, his dark hair tied in a loose knot at the base of his neck, and the evil smirk across his lips, you were rendered indefensible. everything about eren was so intoxicating, and the idea of letting him have his way with you right now, in this bathroom, was starting to sound less and less like a bad idea. you weren’t sure how long you’d been staring and admiring when his lusty voice filled your ears again.

“did you forget how to use that pretty mouth of yours? i’m sure i can give you a little refresher,” he faked a frown and pointed to the floor with his index finger.

without a shred of reluctance you sunk to his feet. he had you in a state of utter compliance now, and all he had to do was mutter a few arrogant words and take off his shirt — you were almost ashamed, almost.

after a few smooth movements of his fingers against the drawstrings of his sweats, the tip of his member was hanging mere centimeters from your face. you glanced up at him with giant eyes as he stared down at you with his clouded ones. between his raging hunger for your body and the high that was still clouding his mind, there wasn't a single coherent thought in eren’s head other than the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“open up, princess. if you wanna act like a slut, i’ll treat you like one,” he grabbed the back of your head and forced it forward.

your lips parted without even thinking, and he thrusted his full length down your throat without any warning. you were left coughing and sputtering, the walls of your throat constricting against his cock and sending a few curses from his lips.

he slowed down slightly after that, but kept a steady pace as he mouth-fucked you until tears were leaking down your cheeks. you were gagging and coughing and your face was stained with salty saline but you loved every second of it. his head rolled back as raspy grunts fell from between his teeth, his fist tightening at your scalp.

after he thought you’d finally had enough he pulled back and released your hair from his steel grip. his cock was aching now, coated in a thick layer of your sticky saliva and yearning for more.

“get on the counter,” he ordered, and you scrambled to your feet in a way that was embarrassingly desperate.

you boosted yourself up onto the cool countertop, positioned perfectly between two sinks and leaning back against the mirror. eren placed a firm grip on each of your legs, shoving them open and snickering at the slick patch of fabric between your thighs.

“you like being treated like a whore, don’t you?” he clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and reached down at your panties before yanking them off in one fell swoop.

he squatted down so his face was level with your cunt, sticking out his tongue and dragging it up to your clit with antagonizing slowness. he moved the warm muscle up and down, sliding it between your folds and in circles around your clit — but his tongue was just barely making contact. and every time you bucked your hips towards him, begging and yearning for just a little more he’d pull his head back and click his tongue at you.

you were aching, leaking, and so incredibly needy for him and he knew it. he’d transformed you into the crumpled mess laying before him in a matter of minutes, and he was very proud of it.

“i’d start begging if i were you, or i’ll leave you here like this — a stupid broken slut with no one to fuck her,” he stood up and cocked his head to the side before beginning to tease your entrance with a single finger.

“ah- eren, please! i’ll do whatever you want,” you whimpered at him, a pitiful look on your face.

“eren? you know you’re not supposed to call customers by their name here,” he shook his head, “you’ll have to do better than that”.

“please- master, use me however you want. just please fuck me already”.

that seemed to suffice for eren, because after that it didn’t take long for him to shealth himself inside you and have your sweaty back slamming into the glass mirror behind you. strangled moans and pitiful whimpers slipped from between your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head in complete bliss. he’d teased and tormented you for so long that the sudden intense stimulation was almost too much.

he fucked himself into you so hard you thought you might break — your legs ached and your back hurt from awkwardly leaning into the mirror. but those feelings were quickly pushed to the back of your head because the overwhelming pleasure was so forceful that you could barely focus on anything else. eren’s length was grinding deep into your aching caverns so good that it was completely clouding your brain.

you let out a stifled gasp when he abruptly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more.

“why-,” your voice was so destitute and so, so desperate.

“shut up and stand in front of me,” he commanded, pulling you off the counter and twisting you so you were facing the bathroom mirror.

“look at yourself in the mirror and watch me fuck you,” he practically snarled, placing a palm on your back and pushing your chest down against the counter, “look at how much of a slut you are for me”.

the only response that came out of your mouth was a tiny whine of acceptance — it was pathetic.

a breathy moan fell from your lips as he slid back in, and your cheeks blushed a dark shade of red as you watched yourself get fucked from behind. it was embarrassing, humiliating even, having to see yourself like this, but what made it even worse was that you fucking liked it.

“look at yourself,” he nodded towards the mirror, picking up his pace and tightening his grip on your hips, “just a dumb whore who’s good for nothing but taking orders from other people”.

“only- you!” you let out a strangled yelp.

“what was that? i don’t think i heard you,” he thrusted hard, reaching deeper than he had the entire time and then leaning over your back so his head was positioned right next to yours.

“say it again,” he murmured, burning holes through your eyes with how intensely he was staring at you in the mirror.

“i’m a dumb whore, but only for- you,” you repeated, squirming and whining at the painful pleasure he was forcing into you.

“that’s right,” he flashed you a satisfied grin, standing back up and resuming his original pace.

the sudden shift had you clawing at the smooth countertops — desperately wishing you had a pillow or sheet to grasp onto for some kind of support. you flinched when you felt a couple of his cool fingertips find your clit, immediately rubbing hasty circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“i want you to come for me,” he locked eyes with you in the mirror again, “and i want you to think about how i’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good the entire time”.

his words were harsh but they sounded like honey when they flowed through your pathetically devoted ears. between his consistent thrusts and the pads of his fingers working their magic, you were a pitiful mess of whimpers and moans in a matter of minutes. your body twitching and legs shaking as you mumbled his name over and over — it was the only word your brain could comprehend right now.

seeing you like that nearly pushed eren over the edge himself, but he forced himself to last a little longer, wanting to milk your orgasm for everything that it was. he was genuine when he said no one else would ever make you feel the way he could — your head was spinning and your body was on a high that felt like it would never end.

only once your body finally fell limp and tired, signifying that your climax had ended, did he pull out and spray his seed all over your exposed back. you were a sticky, sweaty mess and your legs didn’t have the strength to stand even after eren was done coming down from his own high.

your face was buried in your arms when you felt a wet paper towel cleaning up the mess of semen off your back. eren tossed the towel into the garbage and wrapped his arms under your torso so he could help your pitiful self stand up. you let out a few pained whimpers, stumbling into his arms and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“that bad, huh? how are you gonna go back out there and work for all your masters? i’m sure they’re waiting,” he smirked at you, and there was no sympathy in his voice.

“i- i don’t think i can,” you whined, clinging to him as your legs continued to shake underneath you.

eren shook his head and clicked his tongue, helping you over to your clothes and assisting you with getting back into your uniform. even after getting dressed your legs refused to work — you were a shaky, stumbling mess. you sat in a pitiful heap against the tiled wall while you watched eren get his own clothes back on.

“i think you might need a new job,” he snickered, squatting down and lifting you onto his back once he was dressed.

you graciously climbed onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and burying your face into his neck, “yeah, yeah i’ll get a new job”.

“good idea, because everyone’s about to see how pathetic you are as we walk through the cafe,” he wrapped his arms back under your backside to support your weight.

“there’s a back exit right down the hall, please take that one,” you begged, “please”.

“well. since you asked so nicely and did so well i guess you deserve that,” he complied, exiting the bathroom and following your directions to the back door.

but because you have the worst luck in the world, one of the cafe managers came walking right around the corner just as the two of you were about to leave. you buried your head deeper into eren’s neck, unbearable amounts of embarrassment and shame flooding your veins.

“hey man, she quits, sorry!” eren yelled and handled it for you, dashing out the back door before the manager could even comprehend what he’d just seen.

“thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, and you were truly thankful that you didn’t have to speak for yourself in there.

“no problem, princess,” he adjusted one of his hands so he could squeeze your ass, making you jump against his back, “let’s head back to my house for round two, yeah?”

“r-round two?” you stuttered.

you could barely handle round one, and he was ready to go again? how!?

“i’m joking, relax. let’s go watch a movie or something,” he chuckled, hoisting you higher on his back and beginning your long walk back to his apartment.

you sighed and sunk into his back, that sounded nice. there was a huge difference in how eren acted earlier and how he was acting now, but you were a sucker for both personalities. you expected college to consist of classes and work and maybe a few new friends but meeting eren yeager was sure to make it a lot more interesting.

[bratkook]

deep six: watch yourself (m) jjk.

You wanna know what Zeus said to Narcissus, you’d better watch yourself.

part one. ao3 . v-day drabble. prequel

pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. angst, smut, fluff warnings. violence in forms of fist fighting, blood, depictions of murder, use of knives, use of guns, mentions of selling drugs, corrupt cops, breaking of alliances, deep six forgets about their golden rules for a brief moment of chaos and revenge (this is a biker gang au please don’t read this if any of the above is triggering), infidelity, minho is lowkey very abusive but no surprise there, smut in forms of: oral sex (m. & f. receiving), face fucking, fingering, he’s still wearing those mf SIX rings, rough sex thats still super lovey, unprotected sex, riding, spanking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, brief cockwarming, nipple play, love kink!!!, slight possessiveness, spit kink, missionary bc his face is pretty 🥺, he has a gold chain on, sweet loving biker gang!jungkook is back 😌 word count. 29k author’s note. to celebrate the love deep six got, I decided to expand the story and add a second part! (i know this is a lot longer than the first part but i had to add more backstory since pt 1 was just smut w. minimal plot lol) i’m open to doing small drabbles if you request any bc i love this couple sm. thank u all for loving the first part & i hope you love the second just as much. please...hit up my inbox and let me know your thoughts on this, it goes a long way! ily all byeee beta reader. @taestybae​ thank you for being an irl angel and checking me on my tenses, wonky punctuation and any possible plot holes while simultaneously hyping up the story in your comments and erasing any doubts i had hahaha you’re the best ilu ❣️

Chaos. Pure fucking chaos.

The minute you get Seulgi’s text that stated that simple word, it’s as if you forget how to breathe, your lungs no longer working on autopilot as you start to choke, ready to pound onto your chest with your fist to get your lungs to wake up. It’s Jungkook’s hand placed on your shoulder that allows you to get that first breath of air, gulping it down like your life depended on it, lungs burning as you gasp. 

“Relax, breathe. What’s going on?”

“Minho, I think Minho knows.” It’s a guess really, her text didn’t explain much, but the way he had blown up your phone only leads you to believe that he was well aware that you were missing and Minho didn’t take well to misplacing his things.

Jungkook doesn’t know what course of action would be most beneficial, if Minho does in fact know, would it be best to simply keep you here, or would that make it all worse? He really needs Seokjin to answer the phone but it continues to ring, the rhythmic vibrations droning out until it eventually leads to his voicemail. That alone isn’t a good sign but Jungkook can’t allow himself to panic or assume the worst, especially when you currently look on the verge of passing out or throwing up.

“Call Seulgi,” he instructs, keeping his voice calm and level while he roams the room and picks up your discarded clothing. Jungkook knew that although your club and the Vagos had some form of loyalty with each other, your friendship with Seulgi laid deeper than the club itself.

“Right, you’re right,” you stutter out, quickly dialing her number and putting it on speaker, not trusting your shaky hands to hold your device by your ear. Jungkook does his best to dress you in your seated position, gently securing the straps to your bra on and helping you slide into your shirt, your own hands grabbing onto your underwear and sliding them on, nearly jumping when Seulgi’s voice cuts through the air.

“Where the fuck are you?” Her voice sounds tense, muffled by her hand cupped over her mouth to help cut out the noise of the mayhem around her. Minho had in fact made heads roll, beating the orange haired Angel to a pulp while his minions threatened any of the members who tried to step in and help the poor boy. Minho might have taken it too far, Seulgi wasn’t even sure what the boy’s condition was once Minho was done with him, but the second he turned around and tried to walk back to his bike was when the members of Hell’s Angels finally jumped in. With knives and guns no longer pointed in their direction they weren’t going to let Minho get away without trying to take a stand and that's when mayhem ensued.

“Jungkook’s house, is Minho looking for me?” You’re standing now, stepping into your skirt and your shoes and following Jungkook out of his room.

“He thinks you’re with me.” She’s currently deep in the outskirts of the meetup, by all the shrubs and trees trying her best to remain unseen. Once a full on brawl let loose it was only a matter of time before other clubs jumped in. Considering the two of you stuck together during these meets, Seulgi knew if she followed behind her club Minho would know you were gone so she went against her own rules and hid out to keep you safe.

She wasn’t sure what was going on anymore, a few clubs had rode out the second the violence was overstepped and all she could see from her spot was a glowing light of what she could only assume was a bike set ablaze. 

“I need to approach him before he comes looking for you or it’s gonna get ugly, I’m sending you an address to a warehouse the Vagos use.” It’s the first place Seulgi can think of, the location just close enough to the meet for Minho to believe she was able to drop you off and come back. “I swear to god Y/N you better haul ass there because if Minho gets there before you, it’s both of our asses on the line.”

The call gets cut off immediately, your phone buzzing in your hand as she sends the location, a skew of numbers that your brain can’t unscramble but luckily Jungkook spots the text over your shoulder and doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s leading you out of his house. He knew exactly what warehouse it was, deep in Vagos territory, used as a cover up for arms dealing. 

On a normal day you wouldn’t be caught dead riding on his bike through these streets but considering it was a meet day you knew the rules would be more lax, add the brawl and mayhem that just went down and you’re confident in knowing they’ll have other priorities more important than focusing on you riding behind a Six. 

“Fuck, I’m dead,” you mumble, letting Jungkook guide you onto the bike, eyes focused on the pavement of his driveway as he slid the helmet over your head, gently clasping it under your chin and tapping the top of it in an effort to make you smile. 

“You’re gonna be fine baby,” he reassures you, swinging a leg over to straddle the bike and turning it on. Jungkook lets out a small breath as he clasps your shaky hands, wrapping them tightly around his waist until you’re secured. “Just hold on okay?”

Your grip only tightens as he accelerates the bike, taking off onto the road, the loud rumble of the motor piercing through the air as the wind slices against you. The scenery blurs around you as he speeds through the streets, not even realizing when he had gotten onto the highway, the determination of getting you to the warehouse before Minho making him push his bike even further. 

Jungkook has never been more thankful for driving through this shitty part of town, the minimal cars allowing him to cut corners with ease, coming to a halt a few feet away from the warehouse Seulgi had sent you to in record time. 

“Okay, it's up there.” Jungkook can feel your hands tighten around him despite the bike being at a stand still, your fear keeping you rooted in place. It's not until his own hands come up to rest over yours that you finally uncurl your fingers and loosen your grip. “You have to go baby, I’ll see you soon okay?”

With great hesitation you unwrap your arms from his waist, undoing the straps from the helmet and handing it to him as you slide off the back of his Vulcan. He tries his best to keep a smile on his face when he eyes your nervous form, how your hands tug at your skirt while you stand beside him, the gentle way you place your palm on his shoulder as you lean in for a quick kiss, repeating the same words once you pull back. “I’ll see you soon Guk.”

Jungkook’s hands tighten around the throttle as you utter the words, his lips tingling from the simple kiss but the sour taste remains on his tongue at the small possibility that he won’t be seeing you soon if Minho has figured you out. Hes going to get you out of there, regardless of how messy it would get, he had promised you an out and he was going to do it. 

It takes self restraint to not haul you back onto his bike and take off, leaving this whole thing behind and starting anew but Jungkook knows it can’t play out like that. He had to be smart, be fifty steps ahead of Minho and his explosive mentality. If he acted on pure instinct it wouldn’t just be you and him on the line but Deep Six as a whole as well. 

Jungkook can feel his resolve cracking so he’s grateful when you turn around and make your way towards the building, the growing space making his mind settle. Your feet urge you to speed up until you’re nearly sprinting as you reach the gate, inputting the code Seulgi gave you and stepping inside, relieved that you weren’t instantly greeted by your psycho boyfriend’s voice. 

Jungkook’s Vulcan cuts through the silence as he revs the engine, antsy fingers clutching his throttle, not relaxing until you’re safe. He only takes off the second you step inside, not wanting to test his luck anymore tonight, if Minho saw him lingering around he wouldn’t be as quick to shrug it off, and being caught in a fight on Vago territory was not something he wanted to add to the list of chaos today. 

You hear the rumble of his bike fade away as he makes his way back home, the pounding in your chest only calming down when you know he’s far enough to avoid suspicion if a Cobra spotted him. 

A small sigh leaves your mouth in a cloud as your breath meets the cold air, leaning your back against the exterior wall of the warehouse, refusing to step inside, not wanting to see whatever skeletons the Vagos had buried in here. Your hands continue to shake at your sides while you wait, fingers trembling as you text Seulgi to notify her that you were at the warehouse, hitting send just as another engine fills the air. 

This time it’s Minho who rides through the open gate, eyes roaming the open lot until he spots you pressed against the side of the building, hidden in the shadows. The glow your phone casts onto your face dims out as you lock the device and stand up straight, taking a cautious step towards him, still unaware of where you stood on his hit list. 

“When did you leave?” His voice drawls out in that lazy way that shows he didn’t really care, shoes crunching the rocks in his path as he gets off his bike and gets closer to you, lit cigarette hanging off his lips. His face looks skeptical, eyes slightly narrowed as he observes you, wanting to catch anything you do or say that could reveal any lies you might be telling. Minho was suspicious and paranoid by nature, it was the main reason he was so quick to start fights so you know to pick your words wisely to avoid digging yourself deeper. 

“Once it became too violent.” Your voice is meek, the genuine fear of being caught in a lie making your voice shake, but Minho contributes it to the scene that he thinks you just witnessed happened at the meet. It makes his face light up as he recalls it, your ass successfully saved now that he can only think of himself, stretching his sore fingers out that ached from the constant punches thrown. 

“Did you see the way the Deep Six fuckers bolted out of there? Like a swarm of rats, fucking pussies.” He pulls the cigarette away from his lips as he laughs, eyes staring off into the distance as a genuine smile spreads on his face, the pride he felt after successfully beating people into submission evident. 

It disgusts you, your lips pulling together to prevent your distaste from spilling out, spewing just how you feel out into the open but you bite your tongue. Minho must be expecting a response, at your silence he cocks an eyebrow and glances down at you, his frame towers over you, only making you feel smaller as his eyes harden. His cheeks hollow out as he takes a practiced puff, cherry lighting up as he inhales, smoke snaking out of his lips and into his nostrils as he glowers down at you, blowing the excess directly into your face. 

“What’s got you so tight lipped?” he ponders, a large ringed hand coming up to cup your cheek, cold eyes looking over your features. Your head is stiff in his grasp, jaw tensing up when he tilts it slightly, exposing the stupid hickey Jungkook gave you earlier in the night.

You avert your eyes when he spots it, heart dropping in your chest as you expect whatever explosive response he’s going to have. It's almost impossible for your mind to not think about how this could go down, an argument with him in an empty lot while he had adrenaline still coursing through his veins only made your stomach twist. 

Instead, Minho simply laughs, releasing your cheek as he prods at the blossomed bruise, ignoring your wince of pain. “Wow, didn’t realize I marked you up so good earlier.”

Your heart resumes its normal rhythm at his ignorance, assuming the sloppy sucks and kisses he had done hours prior were the sole cause of the hickey Jungkook was fully responsible for. You couldn’t let him talk further on it, scared he’d put the pieces together and realize there was no way he did that to you so you guide the conversation back to him. 

“You know I get shaken up when you pull things like this, Minho.”

He scoffs now, eyes rolling as he stares down at you, always hating when you’d attempt to kill his mood. This was a call for celebration dammit, getting the Angels to give up some of their territory in return for attempting to sling on Cobra grounds was a win for him. So what if he had to use his fists and make someone a little bloody to get his way, you weren’t going to bring him down. 

“Lighten up sweetheart, Seulgi told me you got out of there before the worst happened.” He tosses the butt of his smoke down onto the floor, crushing it with the heel of his shoe. 

His dismissive tone irks you, crossing your arms under your chest as you narrow your eyes at him, needing to keep up your demeanor, grasping at straws to come up with phrases to solidify your alibi. 

“So you prefer me walking through this part of town alone in order for you to kick some teeth in?” Your words have the right affect on him, he knew this was Vagos territory and although the clubs ran together their loyalty lies within each other, you were essentially free reign if you ever stepped foot here without him or Seulgi at your side. It wasn’t just them you had to be wary of though, all it would take would be a member of a smaller neighboring gang to spot you walking on this side of town with a Cobra jacket for them to decide to make a statement at your expense. 

It was as if you had a big fat target on you, a giant illuminated sign with an arrow pointed right at you, free for their taking. Minho knew this, it was the main reason he never let you stray too far onto unfamiliar territory, why he preferred to have you right by his side unless you were doing runs for the Cobras on neutral grounds. 

But something about your statement didn’t settle into his mind right and after a few moments it clicks. How could you tell him you walked here alone when Seulgi had said she drove you here herself, allowing you into the warehouse before returning to her club. 

You’re lying. 

To what extent, he’s not entirely sure, but he doesn’t allow you to see it. A simple shrug is all he gives you, the act of nonchalance sent your way as he walks back and straddles his bike, needing to get out of here before his anger made him act irrationally. Knowing better than to push his buttons you follow him instantly. 

“Maybe next time you’ll stick around and watch the show then.” He watches your reaction intently, looking for any twitch of your face or fidget of your hands but you’ve got your best poker face on, only nodding despite wanting to scream every curse word and secret into his face. 

You could never do that, all it takes is one look for him to keep you pliant and submissive. His cold eyes pierce through you, commanding you to hop onto the back, and like clockwork you do as he asks. As you settle on the seat, your small hands wrapping around his waist, he feels like his skin burns at your touch, the anger in his gut growing from catching you in a tiny lie. 

Minho liked to think he wasn’t stupid, he was the leader of the Cobras for a reason, so he knew that behind that white lie were layers of secrets he was dying to peel back. His jaw tenses as he revs the engine once, chuckling at the way your hands grip him tighter in shock, fingers digging into him as he takes off, mind already whirring at following your trail of lies. 

The switch in his trust comes instantly, so fast it gives you whiplash, leaves you standing there in shock as you wait to see if he’s joking when he tells you you’re not allowed to leave the clubhouse without someone by your side. It trickles into him confiscating your phone, desperate to catch a stray text or forbidden phone call that would catch you in your lies, but Jungkook knows better than to text you unannounced. 

The only silver lining to this all is getting a much needed break from Minho, no longer having to go home with him on the nights he had business to attend to. With his added paranoia he’s basically shackled you to the clubhouse, forcing the hangouts for the Cobras to babysit you and ensure you wouldn’t wander off in the middle of the night. He had no faith that you wouldn’t up and leave if you were left alone. 

He never explicitly told you he suspected you of lying to him, making up some bullshit about wanting to keep you safe after hearing news of a neighboring gang causing more mayhem than the Cobras did, but you sensed the truth. The guilt you felt kept you from questioning him, from fighting back and digging yourself deeper into the grave you knew you were sinking into. 

Choosing to bear through it in silence, desperate to contact Jungkook but you know you need to be cautious, play your cards right in order for it to not blow up in your face. You had faith in Jungkook, trusting him when he said he’d get you out of here despite it all, hoping he was thinking of ways to do so as you lay on the lone bed in one of the extra rooms in the clubhouse, feeling like a grounded teenager. 

The sound of chatter can be heard through the closed door, the hangouts put on warden duty awake and lounging in the main room, their laughter flowing through the crack under the door. 

Considering the spare rooms in this clubhouse are only meant for members too drunk to ride home at night they’re not the most inviting, a cheap bed frame and plain sheets are the only things provided to make it decent enough. It’s a stark contrast from the spare rooms at Deep Six’s clubhouse, made to feel like actual bedrooms instead of run down sheds. 

The longer you lay here the dirtier you feel, hauling yourself up and choosing to exit the room altogether. Your nerves are settled with the fact that no actual members of the Cobras are within these walls now, just hangouts that are too scared to take any wrong step and lose their rank to treat you unfairly. Having been in your shackles for a few weeks now you’d grown familiar with them, comfortable enough to know which ones you could talk to in order to pass the time. 

The sounds of whatever television show is playing fills the main room, the blue light of the large television mixing with the warm glow of the light of the kitchen area a few feet away. One familiar tall figure stands there with his back facing you, hunched over as he makes himself a late night snack, the other two sit on the couch, eyeing you as you walk past them. 

With a small wave in their direction they avert their eyes and go back to watching their show, no longer interested in where you were going since you didn’t look like you were dressed to bolt out of here. You weren’t stupid enough to think that if you actually tried to run right now they weren’t instructed to do whatever it took to keep you here. 

Instead of heading for the main door like you desperately craved, you turn and approach the kitchen area, sneaking up on the man slicing his sandwich diagonally in half. 

“Can I have one?”

The man gasps as he clutches the handle of the knife, nearly dropping it in shock at the close proximity of your voice, coming from his left as you settle beside him. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Don’t tell me you can actually sleep on those cardboard mattresses?”

He takes good care in putting the knife away in a spot you can’t reach, splitting his sandwich in half and handing you the smaller side with a grin that showcases the dimples in his cheeks. “When you’re used to sleeping on the dirt, cardboard feels like heaven Y/N.”

You take the sad looking sandwich from him with a shrug, fingers squishing the untoasted bread before bringing it to your mouth for a bite, the first actual meal you’ve had all day since you pulled a hunger strike whenever Minho tried to feed you. 

“You need to start toasting your bread Soobin.” It sticks to the roof of your mouth uncomfortably, tongue smacking against it to get it off as you chew but he just laughs, taking a massive bite with ease. 

“Why don’t you make your own sandwiches then?” he retorts, grabbing a water from the fridge to hand to you before walking towards the large table a few feet away. 

“Did you forget the unspoken rule that I’m not allowed to be around the knives?” It’s not a rule Minho had told you himself but considering you had tried to use a knife days prior only to have it yanked out of your grasp, plus the way he had just made sure to keep the knife far away from you, it spelled it out for you. 

Soobin pretends he doesn’t hear you, acting like he was invested in the mumble that droned from the television. You don’t bother repeating yourself, knowing it was pointless to try to get under his skin for your benefit, instead you settle into the chair across from him, eating the sandwich in peace as you eye the clock hung on the wall behind him. 

It states the time being 1:27 in the morning and as you stare at the ticking hands you can’t help but wonder what Jungkook was doing right this second. Was he cradling his phone hoping you’d text him? Maybe he was sat awake thinking of a plan of escape, better yet maybe he was on his way here now, ready to bust you out of here–

“So, what did you do?” Soobin’s whispered question pulls you out of your fantasy, eyes drifting down from the clock to meet his curious ones. He looks like he’s nervous for even asking, head lowered and inched closer to you to prevent the others from listening. 

“What?”

“You know,” he waves his hand around, “you must have done something for them to put you on lockdown like this.” Soobin is new to the club but he isn’t dumb, it doesn’t take much guessing to come to the conclusion that for you to have a herd of people watching your every move, not being allowed to use a knife, you must have done something disgraceful in order to get this treatment despite being the leader’s girlfriend. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me something first.” His eyes narrow at your proposition, his childish need for wanting gossip outweighing anything else as he nods in agreement. “Why are you here? No bullshit, the truth.”

You had known him for two months, having seen him around a little bit prior to you being put on lockdown, but ever since being forced to be in close proximity to him you couldn’t fathom how a boy like Soobin found himself tangled around Cobras. 

He hesitates for a second, eyes looking over to the other boys on the couch but when he notices they’re too engrossed in their own conversation he looks back at you with a sigh. 

“My family.” That gets your attention, resting your chin on your palm as you stare at him, needing him to elaborate further and he does. “My mom’s really sick, she has been for a while and you know how it goes, the bills don’t really wait for anyone and before we knew it we lost everything.”

His voice is quiet now, almost like he’s scared to admit the reason why he’s here isn’t because he’s some violence craving fiend. “It’s just us and my sister and part time jobs weren’t cutting it anymore so meeting Minho was kind of a blessing.”

You snort at that, the thought of meeting Minho being considered a blessing sounding like an absolute joke, but in his case it was the unfortunate truth. “You know you get nothing as a hangout right?”

Soobin knows this, lips pursed together as he nods in understanding, fully aware that the little he has done now had left him with absolutely nothing to show for but he was patient. “If I play my cards right it’ll be worth it.”

All he had to do was prove his worth, show how loyal he was. If he managed to gain Minho’s trust he would be golden, ranked higher and in turn getting cuts of whatever profit was made. As you look at Soobin now, it's hard to picture him getting involved in any of it. You could only hope he’d stick to the gambling rings the Cobras had spread out, not wanting to picture him dealing with weapons and drugs, or the more vile side of things that you didn’t even want to think about. 

“I’ll pocket the money and it’ll all go to my mom and sister.” His words make him sound so sure of himself. It's almost like he can see the future splayed out in front of him, see it all so vividly it leaves you wanting to ask him what he saw happening to you. 

“Well, you better make sure you keep a close eye on me or that plan’s gonna go to shit.” Is the bitter response you throw his way, the chair scraping the floor as you stand up from your spot, ready to leave. 

“Wait, you didn’t tell me what you did.”

With both palms pressed onto the table you sigh in defeat, looking down at his seated frame with tired eyes. “I didn’t do anything Soobin. Goodnight.”

Even though his mind tells him not to believe you, convinced that you must be lying to him to conceal the true atrocities you did, his gut tells him to trust you. It’s that same gut feeling that serves as your blessing in disguise, maybe it was coincidental or maybe Minho just blindly trusted Soobin. But after another week of the hangouts being put on warden duty Soobin is chosen as head babysitter.

It worked for you though, you were able to tolerate him more than the others and you can tell he trusted you by the way he wasn’t quick to keep a hand tucked in his back pocket when you walked too fast. You’d like to think Soobin wouldn’t have the balls to shoot you if ordered to, and that same faith is what sparks the brilliant idea in your head.

Approaching Minho as he lingers outside of the clubhouse with a handful of members around him fills your stomach with nerves. You’ve dealt with his personality for years, knowing just the right way to talk to him to get what you want in some form or another but the closer you get to him the more you feel like you’ll throw up. Gone were the days where you could butter him up with a sweet smile, convincing him to allow you to slip away for brief moments. It was a small taste of freedom that you took for granted, knowing you could no longer ask him for something as simple as going to the store before setting him off.

Before he can spot you approaching you lose your confidence, swiftly turning around and heading back inside. You don’t get very far, colliding into a solid form and stumbling back, hands grabbing your shoulders to keep you steady. 

“Woah, where are you going?”

Soobin’s voice meets your ears and you furrow your brows in annoyance. “Jesus, do you have to follow me around like a lost puppy?”

He takes no offence to your words and just laughs, smiling down at you as he releases your shoulders and shrugs. “I mean, it’s sort of my job now.”

“Right.” He takes note of the sour look on your face as you side step him, arms crossed over your chest as you continue down your path. His conscience doesn’t allow him to let you go far, knowing your mood hadn’t gone down just because he was behind you. 

“Wait, what’s wrong?” His long legs catch up to you in no time, stopping you once more a few feet away from the door, a genuine look of concern on his face and as you spot it you know you can use it in your favor. 

“Sorry,” you sigh, softening your features as you look up at him once more. “I just haven’t been able to go to the store recently to get stuff I need, and it’s that time of the month, and I’ve been craving this snack I always get so I’m a little irritable.”

Soobin can only nod in understanding, eyes wide as he tries to pretend like he’s not affected by the information you just told him. Of course you weren’t actually on your period but you were going to use the stereotypical mood swings to your advantage. 

“Oh, I can go get them for you if you want?”

It almost hurts you to know you’re using his sympathy to manipulate him but you have to think of the bigger picture here. “Really?” Your eyes are hopeful when he nods, a genuine smile on his face as he does so. “Okay, it's pretty hard to find but they sell it at this store on the corner of 41st and Cypress.”

He looks a little wary now, not because of the store's location but because he knew if he somehow managed to bring back the wrong thing he’d only upset you further. The last thing he needed was for you to yell at him over candy, that’d be an embarrassing way to get knocked down a few ranks. 

“You know what, why don’t you come with me to make sure I get the right ones.” Those words are your ticket and you’re hoping your eyes don’t reveal your true intentions as he utters them. “Here, put in the address and I’ll go tell Minho we’re gonna do a quick run.”

As he pulls out his phone you swear there’s a golden glow surrounding it, an angelic symphony playing out as you grab the device between your fingers, no longer paying him any attention as he turns back to notify Minho. It feels odd to hold a phone after weeks of not using yours but the second he’s gone you act fast, opening up a new message and typing in Jungkook’s number by memory. 

unknown 5:39pm : it’s Y/N, meet me at the bodega on 41st in 20 minutes. don’t text back. 

After hitting send and seeing it was marked as delivered, you delete the message entirely, going onto his maps and entering the address just as he comes back, a pair of keys in his hands from a bike Minho had allowed him to use. It irks you initially, recognizing the keys to belong to the bike that was typically reserved for you to ride but considering those privileges had been revoked you could only bite your tongue. 

“Minho said this bike is your favorite.” Soobin twirls the key around his fingers, not catching the way you glare at them as they spin around. Of course Minho would say that, and as you take a glance in his direction you spot him already staring at you, a cold look in his eyes as he mouths out a phrase you recognize too well. 

Behave. 

“Yeah, it is.” You reply after forcing yourself to look away from his dead eyed look, giving Soobin a cheerful smile as you both approach the bike in question. It was parked between all the others, nestled in the sides from not being used recently but he’s able to pull it out with ease. 

“He didn’t say anything?” Your question is quiet as he walks the bike out, handing you the helmet hooked onto the handle. It’s dusty and scratched up but it’s familiar so you strap it on with a small breath of relief. 

Soobin wasn’t going to tell you that he said to watch you like a hawk, how he had threatened him that any funny business happening would have his head on the chopping block. He hoped he could trust you, and as he settles onto the bike and waits for you to slide behind him before turning it on, he’s only able to mumble out a ‘nope’ before taking off. 

You're grateful the ride is bumpy, able to conceal the nervous jitters in your body with every crack on the road, choosing to keep quiet while he observes the directions from the phone perched between the handlebars. Soobin wasn’t too familiar with the area but he knew where the borders of Cobra territory were, having passed them a minute ago, entering what was considered neutral area in a small radius before entering Deep Six grounds. 

As he navigates through the empty streets you don’t spot other riders nearby, the two of you sticking out like sore thumbs as you make your way uptown. The small hope you had to see Jungkook dims down when the bodega comes into view and you don’t spot his black Vulcan perched outside in it’s usual spot. 

“Damn, you really come all the way out here for some candy?” Soobin jokes as he turns the bike off, pushing out the kickstand before sliding off his own helmet. 

“Yeah, it’s the best.” You’re distracted as you get off the bike, unclasping your helmet as you look around, hoping to see him hidden in the outskirts somewhere but he’s nowhere to be found. 

“C’mon.” Soobin stands at the door now, the light jingling of the bells grabbing your attention as he holds it open for you. With a final look you hang the helmet off the side and reluctantly step into the shop behind him. He’s none the wiser as he makes a beeline towards the candy aisle, determined to know exactly what snack was the one that would push you over the edge if you couldn’t find it. 

He stands in the middle of the aisle with his hands on his hips, browsing the assortment of candy until he finds the one he personally likes. When you reach for the pack of sour straws he laughs with a teasing smile on his face. “Really, sour straws? You know they sell these at the convenience store a few blocks away right?”

The door bells jingle as someone steps into the shop and you can’t stop yourself from turning around to spot who it is, disappointment evident on your features when it's just a random man buying cigarettes. Soobin eyes you carefully now, standing straighter as he watches the way your hands fidget as you hold the candy, lips pursed together as you try to get your nerves to settle. 

“This flavor’s hard to come by.” You stick to your lie as you look back at him, grabbing another pack of them for good measure before walking passed him to reach the refrigerated section. He’s not going to fight you on it, having grown up around just women he knows better than to try to tell you otherwise when you had already stated you were irritable. 

Soobin, being as gullible as he is, just follows you through the store as you kill time, grabbing the case of beer along with your candy before going up to the counter to pay. Your heart starts to race at how quick this was going, you were used to going on these runs alone, able to roam the aisles for as long as you wanted without someone tapping at their watch for you to hurry up. 

“Did you want something else?” He wonders when you don’t move from your spot beside the beers, his brows are furrowed on his forehead but when the sound of another bike fills the air and your face looks relieved, it suddenly falls into place for him. 

Soobin frowns as he approaches the glass doors, peering out of them and seeing Jungkook perched on top of his black Vulcan, parked right beside your bike. He’s not well versed on the neighboring gangs and couldn’t pinpoint someone by their face alone but the massive tombstone patch Jungkook has sewn onto his arms is telling enough.

As he turns to face you, seeing the guilt written all over your face, he feels completely betrayed. “You lied to me.”

“Soobin no–“

“Dragging me here to meet with a fucking Six? Really Y/N, do you want me to get my head chopped off?” He sounds more panicked than angry, already picturing getting kicked off the low rank he had just gotten to, Minho’s threats ringing in his ears in a pitch so high it makes his head hurt. What was he supposed to do now, haul you out of there kicking and screaming?

Jungkook stays perched on his bike, staring at his phone in thought, he recognized your bike instantly as he pulled up. His instinct wants him to storm into the store just to see you but he knows you weren’t alone inside the shop. There had to be a way to enter without causing a scene, act nonchalant and just hope that whoever you were with wasn’t hellbent on serving his head on a silver platter. 

“That’s not going to happen as long as you don’t tell Minho, please just give me five minutes.” You plead with Soobin, you just had to tell Jungkook you were okay, needing to see his face after weeks of being put on lockdown, missing the carefree atmosphere that came with being around him. 

“Are you cheating on Minho?” He asks in a whisper, face contorted in confusion when you roll your lips together, not being able to even imagine that being a possibility despite the way you’ve been treated the past month and a half. “Why?”

The frustration is evident in your features at his question, angry tears welling up at having to confess your lies to someone new, the guilt eating away at you once more. “Do you really have to ask me why? It’s not a secret that he’s a piece of shit, Soobin. Look at how he treats me, he has me on a leash and you’re helping him!”

Your words have the right effect on him, lips turning down into a frown when he understands how true your statement is, how he’s been following you around like a lost puppy, obeying orders to watch you like a hawk as if you weren’t a human being. 

Jungkook hops off his bike now, slowly approaching the entrance with caution when he notices Soobin standing guard at the door, there's a brief moment when he wonders if this was a setup when he doesn’t instantly spot you through the doors. His eyes follow the hand that’s clutched onto the door handle, reaching the baby patch on his arm that showcases his rank as a hangout for the Cobras and it calms his suspicions instantly. 

As he looks to the right and spots you a few feet away his excitement is short-lived when he sees the slight panic on your face. For all he knew the hangout was just as unhinged as Minho, that mentality is what prevents him from yanking the door open and going in guns blazing. 

Your heart flutters when you realize he’s here, seeing him standing behind Soobin with only the door blocking you from each other. He was too close for this to all go down the drain, your mind spinning to think of what to say for Soobin to allow you to see him, to promise you he wouldn’t rat on you the minute you got back to the club house. 

“I’m gonna get out of this Soobin, the Cobras are horrible and you know this, help me and I’ll take you with me. Please.”

The idea seems impossible when you speak it out in the open, a life without the Cobras was like a far fetched reality. It was bold of you to think you’d be able to get away, the statistics of previous Cobra members who attempted to leave to start a new life was non-existent. Soobin knows this, the way the promise of loyalty for life was pounded into his head prevented him from even thinking of leaving but, there's so much hope in your voice, eyes pleading with him to agree with you. 

“Minho’s not going to help you take care of your mom and sister, he just cares about himself Soobin. Listen to me, please.”

He can’t find it in himself to jump at your offer, the fear wound too tightly around his spine to make such an impulsive decision but as he turns his head and spots Jungkook a few feet away he just sighs in defeat, hands falling limp by his side as he drops the metaphorical leash he held. 

“I’m gonna take a quick phone call outside.” It’s as good as he can do right now but you’ll take it. When you nod, slightly in disbelief, he’s pushing the door open, refusing to make eye contact with Jungkook as he sidesteps him and walks out of the small store. 

As Jungkook assesses the situation and figures out that Soobin isn’t a direct threat he doesn’t waste any time opening the door and stepping in, waving at the cashier who was familiar with Deep Six members. She takes the hint and steps into the backroom, letting you have a moment alone. 

“Jungkook,” you can barely speak before he’s closing the distance between you and wrapping you in an embrace, arms scooped around you so tightly it pushes the air out of you. 

“Fuck I missed you, are you okay?” His voice is shaky as he whispers into your ear, hands gripping your shoulders as he pulls away, face still lowered to look directly into your eyes. You can tell he’s giving you a once over, making sure you aren’t visibly hurt. Being put in the dark for weeks made his mind go wild on whether or not Minho had put you through the ringer. 

Looking at him quiets every alarm in your head, dulling them down to a serene silence now that he’s here in front of you. In the weeks apart his hair had grown longer, the tips curling by his cheekbones, messed up from the wind due to the speed you know he must have been driving. His wide eyes still hold the same love and adoration they always did as he stares at you, the worn out leather of his jacket making you wish you were back to before, having it draped over your shoulders like a safety blanket. 

“I’m okay.”

He barely believes you, brows pinching together as he cups your face, the familiar chill of his rings on your skin making you smile. Jungkook looks past it though, knowing there was so much you weren’t telling him. “Then what's his deal?” His head motions to the side, letting you know he's talking about Soobin, his tongue fiddling with his lip ring in that nervous habit he did. 

“Minho’s paranoid, I don’t know what I said or did that flipped a switch for him but Soobin’s harmless, he’s just a kid.” It’s the only information you give him, not wanting to worry him further with the knowledge that you were essentially confined to the clubhouse only. 

Jungkook just stares at you, knowing that you’re being sincere but he can’t allow himself to believe that the boy in the Cobra patch is as innocent as you say he is, because at the end of the day he chose to join the gang he wore on his shoulders. He doesn’t know Soobin as well as you do, not knowing his intentions with joining the gang were purely financial. 

“How do we know he’s not gonna throw you under the bus for this?”

“I trust him.” You hope your words are true, the small inkling of fear that he’d turn his back on you to prove his loyalty clawing at your mind. Your answer doesn’t satisfy Jungkook but before he can speak the door jingles again, Soobin stepping into the shop with a stone cold expression, still refusing to look Jungkook in the face. 

“Y/N, we have to go.” He doesn’t elaborate but you know Minho must have called him, the two of you gone for far too long to not raise suspicion. His words are like ice water dumped over you, snapping you back into reality in an instant. 

“Wait, no.” Jungkook is quick to protest, grabbing your hands to prevent you from leaving, standing tall in between you and Soobin to stop him from taking you. It was his own fault the time spent together was minimal, not having seen your text until twenty minutes had passed, having to haul ass over here in a desperate attempt to see you after weeks of radio silence. He couldn’t allow you to slip between his fingers again. “Come with me, I’ve talked to Seokjin and he’s willing to do what it takes to get you out of this.”

You can feel Soobin’s gaze staring you down, pleading you not to leave for his own safety, knowing if he returned to the clubhouse without you by his side Minho wouldn’t even bother asking questions before his rage took over. 

“I can’t, not like this.” Jungkook doesn’t need you to explain why, seeing the way you look up at the younger boy is explanation enough and he doesn’t try to change your mind, knowing that your stubborn and caring mentality wouldn’t allow your mind to be swayed at the direct expense of someone else. 

“Was that his number?” he asks you, missing the way Soobin looks absolutely shocked at the fact that you had used his phone to contact a member of Deep Six. When you nod Jungkook turns to look at him once more. “If you know what’s best for you, the next time I text you with a message for her you better tell her.”

Soobin can only utter a weak ‘okay’, his nerves already on edge from Minho’s threat, the last thing he needed was to be on a neighboring gang’s hit list and even though this went entirely against the rule of loyalty, it was obvious that he really didn’t have a choice. 

Jungkook accepts the shaky nod in agreement, grabbing the items off the counter and thrusting them into Soobin’s arms in a less than gentle manner. “I’ll pay for it, get out of here.”

The hangout wastes no time exiting the store, stuffing the snacks and drinks into the saddlebags on the bike while Jungkook turns to you again. “Next month, I promise.”

It’s a simple promise but you know he means it, by the time the next meet rolled around he’d have a plan for you and it’s enough for you to breathe again. You could handle a few more weeks of torture if it came with a countdown to freedom. 

“Next month.” You repeat in a whisper, eyes falling shut when he bends forward to kiss you, the soft feeling of his cherry sweet lips and cool metal of his lip ring felt on yours being short lived as you pull away, knowing Minho’s temper was already being tested enough. 

Jungkook allows you to slip out of his grasp for a second time, the desire to put Minho in his place making his jaw tense as he feels the anger stirring in his gut. His gaze lingers on you as you approach Soobin with a sorrowful expression, the younger boy not saying anything to you as he just waits for you to strap your helmet on and settle in behind him. 

It feels like you’re taking your last ride as you grip onto his jacket, the initial trust you had that he wouldn’t rat you out withering away the further you got. Believing Soobin held more loyalty for you than for the patch he wore was a mistake, the instant regret you feel weighs heavy on your chest as you realize that you might have just set yourself up. 

That same regret turns into fear when you pull back into the lot of the clubhouse, spotting Minho instantly, still surrounded by fellow members all chatting about who knows what. At the sound of the engine he turns and faces you, the slight flash of relief on his features when he sees you no longer concealed thanks to the alcohol he had consumed. 

If Soobin sold you out now there’d be an audience to witness it all, you could only hope he had an ounce of empathy for you to not do this to you now. 

Reluctantly, your fingers uncurl from their tense position clutching his jacket, slowly sliding off the bike and unclasping your helmet. You can barely look at Soobin as he does the same, occupying yourself with unloading the saddle bags and attempting to get as far away from him by taking the items inside. 

He’s too quick though, long legs allowing him to keep up with you as you shove the beers into the fridge and attempt to make a beeline towards the spare room you had grown to call home. Before you’re even able to sneak between him and the counter his palm is slapping against the wood, a slight wince on his face from the sound he hadn’t intended. 

“No way, we need to talk.” His eyes look conflicted as he stares at you, almost like he’s begging you to convince him not to throw you under, desperately wanting to side with you instead of following the stupid rule about blind loyalty. 

“We can’t right now, Soobin.” Your voice is quiet, your gaze lingering behind him when you spot other members wandering around, not wanting anything you said to be heard by curious ears. 

Luckily he understands, his palm sliding from the countertop as he steps back, lips pursed out in thought. “Tonight then.” 

Even as your palms grow clammy at the thought of laying everything out in the open you know it’s not a question, something you can’t say no to, so you simply nod, your lungs finally working once more as he backs off and walks away as if he didn’t have your dirtiest secret tucked away in his arsenal. 

As you rest against the counter, the small sense of security of finally being alone wears off too soon, it leaves you hunched over with your fists clenched so tightly your nails are leaving indents on your palms. Every small sound has you on edge, worried that Soobin caved, notified Minho of your antics and he was coming to drag you out to make a lesson out of you. 

It’s those same nerves that have you exiting the clubhouse once more with a fake smile plastered on your face, fighting every signal in your body that screams at you to keep your distance as you approach Minho with a cold can of beer in your hand, a peace treaty of sorts. 

Your need to get ahead of Soobin in case he chose to rat you out outweighed your distaste for your boyfriend, greeting him with an uncharacteristic kiss to his cheek. Luckily he’s too enveloped in the conversation at hand to find it suspicious, choosing to sling his arm around you and keep you close in that possessive way he always did. 

Soobin can’t even get himself to watch from his spot as he and the other hangouts finish wiping off the member’s bikes, his own head spinning as he wonders just how he managed to find himself in the middle of all of this. Maybe he was in way over his head when he decided to join the Cobras. 

The saving grace comes a few hours later in the form of Minho telling you they have important business to handle with the Vagos, his loud voice ordering all the members to ride out. A muffled sound of shock escapes you when his hands grasp your cheeks, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow–“ familiar code that let you know you’d be spending yet another night in that depressing ass room, “behave.”

“Okay,” you whisper out, forcing a smile when he pulls away and grins at you, his eyes looking behind you and directly at Soobin, the younger boy already approaching you two. 

“You’ll tag along to the next one alright, I like you.” Minho praises him, chuckling when Soobin nods enthusiastically. “You know what to do.” He doesn’t give you two another glance as he turns around and walks towards his bike, Cobra patch on display on his back as he hops on and starts to lead the rest of the members downtown into Vago territory. 

The rumble of the bikes sounds deafening, slowly fading into a dull hum as they ride off, the floor no longer vibrating as you sigh in relief. Soobin is relaxing right beside you, the release of the tension he had built up from keeping these secrets shoved so far down his throat left him wanting to throw up. 

“Look, I don’t mean to be an asshole but, I kind of need you to tell me everything before I throw up from keeping this secret,” he mumbles out, a queasy look on his face as he stares at you with nervous eyes.

The only plus side to Soobin being your glorified babysitter was that with the added trust Minho had in him came the fact that the other hangouts would no longer be around to eavesdrop on your conversation. It leaves you feeling vulnerable, to have to bare everything out in the open for Soobin to judge you, but you know it needs to be done. A few minutes of losing your dignity would be worth it if the outcome wasn’t you being burned at the stake.

“Fine, I need some alcohol in my system first though.”

Two shots of tequila later you feel ready to tell him anything he wants to know, sat around the club table, too scared to place your hands on the engraved surface in fear that the carved cobra would strike you for your betrayal. The fangs of the serpent taunt you, filling you with wariness that leaves a cold chill down your spine. 

“I just–how did you get involved with a Six?” He whispers the last part despite the two of you being alone in the clubhouse, “I may not know much about the rivalry but I can’t even imagine how you were able to be around him often enough to even start anything with him.”

Soobin’s gears were turning in his head, wondering if maybe you and Jungkook’s relationship went beyond the gang, old romance sparking before either of you joined but that didn’t make sense. 

You can’t look away from the cobra as you smile solemnly, knowing you’ll have to go back to the very beginning. “You know, I wouldn’t have met Jungkook if it wasn’t for Minho.”

It doesn’t seem possible for that statement to be true but it was, not intentionally of course, just a string of events that ended up getting knotted with Jungkook’s by chance. You explain all of this to Soobin, the day still fresh in your mind as if it had just happened. 

At the time you had been upset that Minho had forced you to come with him on this trip, not sure why you had to tag along with him and a handful of high ranked Cobras up north. He had told you he wanted you there for moral support, excited at the fact that the Cobra’s would be attempting to expand their club up state. You knew the truth though, Minho needed an emotional punching bag around in case the deal went sour, the loss of potential power needing to be released in bursts of rage aimed at you. 

Having the deal go in his favor was the best case scenario for you, being able to handle Minho when he was in a positive mood. In a haste to celebrate what this meant for the club’s future, he pulled into the first store he could find on neutral grounds, desperate to load up on booze before reaching home, not caring just how close it edged along Deep Six territory. 

It’s not until he parked his bike alongside the other member’s and was about to get off that he heard the rumble of another bike, Jungkook’s now familiar bike down the street coming into view seconds later. 

Minho didn’t trust himself as he spotted the Six, too high off the success of the day the last thing he wanted was to let his tendencies get the best of him, shoot himself in the foot by disrupting the treaty set in place. 

Him and the two other members got off and decided to enter the smoke shop next door before Jungkook could spot them, ordering you to go in and get what was needed as he did so. Jungkook only saw the lone bikes parked outside, the only indication of who they belonged to being the sticker plastered on the back. It didn’t bother him though, not giving them a second glance as he pulled in, knowing whatever bad blood the groups had couldn’t be settled here. 

You hadn’t given Jungkook a proper glance before stepping inside the shop, not knowing what club he belonged to and frankly not caring much as you walked in. If it hadn’t been for your sweet tooth you would have walked right past him while you browsed, but your mind ran on autopilot as you chose to grab yourself a snack before stocking up on the rest. 

Even as you reached for the same candy you hadn’t taken note of the glimmering rings adorning his fingers, golden letters spelling out SIX, his club tattoos concealed by the sleeves of his jacket as he pulled his hand back and apologized. 

“You can have it,” he offered sincerely, letting you reach for it once more after he shook the two bags of the same sour straws already in his palm. 

“Thanks.” You looked at him properly now, seeing his kind eyes crinkled up with his teeth shown in a bunny smile, the silver hoop around his lips shining in the light. The smile you wore on your own face fell instantly when your eyes landed on the patch adorning his arms. 

If there was one rule you knew you had to abide by it was this one, not wanting to test your luck and ruin Minho’s pleasant mood, Jungkook can’t even say anything as you turn on your heel and grab what you need in a haste before leaving. 

It should have ended there, a one off meeting by chance, severed by your fear of being unloyal to the club that bounded you, but you’d like to think the string of fate between you two had been tangled too tightly. 

Your next encounter wasn’t done on purpose and that much settled your guilt. Minho ordered you on runs often and very rarely did you do them in Cobra territory, he had too many enemies that would hurt you in an attempt to knock him down a few pegs so neutral grounds like these were your only safe bet. 

Jungkook’s face of shock when he spotted you again was still clear in your mind, confusion evident on his face when you’re less hesitant to look at him now as you approach him in the same aisle. He knew you were a Cobra by association but your entourage was missing and without Minho eyeing you like a hawk you hadn’t felt on edge at your close proximity. 

As you eyed the shelves and saw your flavor of choice was missing Jungkook couldn’t hold in his playful snicker as he flashes his hands, holding the last remaining bags of them before sauntering off in a similar fashion to the way you had last time.

It wasn’t until you left after you settled on something else that he spoke to you from his bike, munching on the sour straws with a smile on his face. “Hey snake!” he had called out with a smirk, waiting until you looked up with a frown to toss you one of the extra bags he held, a smile in thanks being passed his way. 

Somewhere in between it morphed into routine, Jungkook found himself visiting the bodega more frequently in hopes of seeing you, the friendly words spoken becoming more casual with each encounter. Tossing you a snack turned into the two of you sitting on the sidewalk as you ate them, distance in between you while you laughed as if your clubs weren’t on each other’s hitlists. 

Soobin almost feels bad now as you retell it all to him, seeing the fallen look on your face as you recount the past, wondering just how it had crumbled underneath you so easily. You and Jungkook played a dangerous game, speaking under the guise of an uncanny friendship, but the way you had input each other's numbers in your phone in code that you hoped no one would decipher showed that you both understood how wrong this was. 

“Convenience store romance morphed into a battle between the Montagues and Capulets.” Soobin jokes, smiling when you actually laugh, hands finally resting on the table as you lean forward, the initial nerves leaving when he doesn’t blatantly judge you. 

“Shut up, it was more than ten minute conversations outside of the bodega.” He lets out a teasing laugh, raising his hands up in surrender as he allows you to explain further. 

Being around him was addicting, his playful attitude despite his hard exterior pulling you in instantly and at first you wondered if you only felt like this because of the way Minho treated you, but you know now that your feelings lied deeper than this. Jungkook knew he was going against one of the cardinal rules set in place for his club, a rule he promised to abide by because he knew exactly why it was put in place but he couldn’t help it. 

You learned Minho’s schedule, planning around it while Jungkook notified you of any free time he had, friendly hangouts spent during spare time satisfying the empty void you had inside of you. This would have been enough for you but before you knew it a kiss was shared and in a blink of an eye it all changed. 

Soobin is spared the intimate details, how you turned it into a game of seeing how much you could get away with, sneaking away at meets to fool around like desperate lovers. All he knew was that it had come back to bite you unsuspected and that was enough. 

“You couldn’t leave before it got this messy?” It’s a dumb question to ask and he knows it, the harsh reality that you could never really leave the Cobras. 

“I couldn’t, and even if I could I have nothing Soobin.” Minho was smart, ensuring you needed him, and had nothing without him. It wasn’t just his doing, you knew he was trouble from the get-go, looking for love in all the wrong places and stumbling onto him. He was everything a rebellious teenager could want, rough around the edges, decked in leather and riding a shiny bike, but most importantly, he pissed off your parents. 

Sure, he pushed their buttons, but you were the one responsible for your family cutting ties with you. They gave you an ultimatum, sick of seeing you going down the wrong path and desperate to tame their eighteen year old daughter before you strayed too far, and you had picked him. 

At the time you weren’t aware of how serious they were, thinking you could storm off with a bag full of clothes for a few nights, being able to return days later like it usually went with fights but by the time you had cooled off they had changed the locks. 

“They called the cops on me for attempting to break in.” You snort at the memory, the last image you had of your parents being them stood on the front lawn while police handcuffed you and took you away. “That was the last time I saw them.”

You wished now that you had fought harder to keep your relationship with your family alive, left Minho behind before he was able to sink his claws further into you, mended the hole in it all before they disappeared with no warning. 

It baffles you how easy it was for him to convince you to not go searching for them, letting you believe it was better this way because it was better for him. He was good with his words, lulling you into a fall sense of security, promises of a good future with him that you believed wholeheartedly. 

Even though his short temper had been present from the get go, you believed he loved you in his own twisted way, failing to see the truth, how he just wanted you to need him. The change happened slowly, left you wondering if you were imagining it, hallucinating the way he would treat you. It wasn’t until he managed to secure the spot as leader for the Cobras that things took a turn for the nasty, his love for power over taking any potential love he could have for you. 

By the time you decided you wanted out it was six years too late, already accustomed to the personal hell your life had morphed into, and with nothing to fall back on you accepted your fate quietly. 

“Do you love him?” 

“Who, Minho?” you wonder, brows pinched together at the question. 

“No,” he scoffs, “Jungkook.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do.” And the way you smile as you say it makes him believe it, a small sigh leaving his lips as he pulls out his phone from his pocket. Soobin slides it across the table with the screen lit up to showcase a slightly threatening text from Jungkook. 

Jungkook 9:43pm : don’t think i won’t find pleasure in torturing you if you out y/n

“Good, because I’m not trying to risk my own ass for a casual fling.” He huffs out as you read the message, a small shiver coursing through him, “He’s scary, in an unsuspecting way.”

Soobin was used to the cold exterior members had, dead eyes and bruised knuckles with nothing to lose but somehow Jungkook frightened him more. There was something a little more terrifying about being threatened by a man protecting someone he loved instead of some psycho killing for a cheap thrill. 

“He’s harmless.” You attempt to reassure him, sliding back his phone with a smile. 

“So, he won’t chop my head off?”

“Oh no,” you laugh, doing nothing to settle him, “he would, but not without reason. He’d chop your fingers off first as a warning, that's why he’s harmless.”

Soobin can only frown, the earlier fear of being on a neighboring gang’s hit list coming back full force. You can read him like a book, extending your hand across the carved out table and resting it on top of his jittery ones. “I meant it when I said I’d give you an out if you wanted one.”

“No,” he blurts instantly, face stern at the thought of it all. It was one thing if you decided you wanted to leave, you had your reasons, had security in the form of Deep Six but Soobin’s need to help his family came first. He couldn’t make a decision without knowing what lied ahead, without knowing if he’d have a way to support his mother and sister. The thought of working his way up was risky enough but the possibility of being killed for betraying the club was something he didn’t want to imagine. 

“What are you going to do then Soobin? Do you really think you’ll be able to make your way up without getting your hands dirty?” Your voice holds no threat, concern lacing every syllable as you start to picture the horrible things Minho will have him do to further build his trust. 

“I know I’ll have to Y/N, I know what I signed up for when I joined.” He can’t look you in the face even as he says this, he knows the possibilities, making his stomach churn as he mentally sorts through them. He had to be willing to do what it takes, stepping on anyone in his way to get as close to the top as he could because that's where the money lied. 

“You haven’t seen it all Soobin, I don’t think you even know what you signed up for.” As a hangout he wasn’t exposed to it all, nearly three months only showed him the tip of the iceberg, not having earned enough trust to unveil the dark that came with it. 

Maybe he’d get lucky and deal with other aspects of the club that wouldn’t go against his morals but if his main prospect was money then you knew the price that came with it. You wished someone had told it to you straight when you were as young as he is, let you know about the ugly that lurked in the shadows behind it all, which is why you’re intent to have him listen. 

“If Minho tells you to deal with skin you’ll do it?” Soobin looks appalled at your question, face twisting up in disgust as the words leave your mouth. 

“What?”

“Answer me, you told me you knew what you signed up for right? You think you’ll be able to tell him no if he decides he wants you to trade skin, recruit it even?” It was one of the things you had no idea went on until Minho became leader, the truth revealing itself, leaving you feeling grimey at being associated with it at all. 

“I didn’t know–“

“I know you didn’t, it’s not exactly common knowledge.” The Cobras did well enough to hide the vile side of it all, keep it under wraps from neighboring clubs because they knew how wrong it was. “I know it sucks Soobin, but I’m giving you an out.”

It renders him silent, the small bubble he had made to convince himself it wasn’t so bad finally bursting around him. His phone rests in between you, the dark screen reflecting the light from above, taunting him to reply to Jungkook, wondering if it really would be that easy. 

Jungkook can only slump in the chair he’s sat in, eyes staring at the center of the wooden table, completely unfocused as he drones out what’s being discussed at the moment. He’s surrounded by ten other members, all of which are intently listening to Seokjin explain how the next shipment would be collected. 

In all honesty he didn’t care, he was just waiting for the topic to fade out so he could finally talk about the actual important subject. You. 

His ears finally tune back in when Seokjin pauses and asks if everyone understood, for all he knew he had just been ordered to hop borders and hand deliver firearms himself, but still he sits up straighter and hums in confirmation. As Seokjin presses his palm into the oak table and takes a look at the surrounding members, Jungkook panics, assuming the meeting is coming to an end. 

“Wait,” he shouts, “what about the Cobras?” He knows it's wrong to disrupt the meeting this way, to interrupt the leader while he’s trying to speak– and if he didn’t know it was wrong, the nice swat to the back of his head from Taehyung knocks some sense into him. 

Seokjin eyes Jungkook for a moment, a small smile on his lips as Jungkook winces and swats back at Taehyung in annoyance, ready to fight him as he reprimands him. “Don’t fucking talk about the Cobras!” 

“No, he’s right,” Seokjin sighs, leaning back into his chair and gauging everyone’s reactions, spotting the way Namjoon nods at him from beside him in reassurance. “Sorry Jungkook, I was just about to discuss that.”

Jungkook just waves the apology off, knowing that getting you out wasn’t the only topic the club was prioritizing. It was eating him alive though, desperately needing to know if there's been a plan thought out because his resolve was slipping and he didn’t want to go against the club and take matters into his own hands. 

Everyone surrounding the table has been a member for enough time to know the root of the issue involving the Cobras, remember the actions that shook the club and nearly started a full on war. Jungkook had joined a year after the chaos, once the dust had really settled, but he had been informed of it all, knowing exactly why rule number three was put into place. 

“I think it’s time we finally cut the head of the snake off.” Seokjin’s voice holds no emotion but his hands twitch on the table, curl into fists as he recalls it all. The room is silent, the slight squeak of a chair heard as someone fidgets uncomfortably, no one wanting to speak first. 

It had been a long time since anyone sat at the table and discussed the Cobras, so many years passed since the rule was set in place, but the wound was still fresh. Seokjin could still feel it now, a gaping hole in his heart that festered so much hatred, bandaged tightly in hopes of forgetting because the damage had been done and settled. 

Namjoon, being Seokjin’s right hand and best friend since the beginning, can only place a hand on his shoulder in hopes of comforting him. It almost sounds like a joke to think that the Cobras and Deep Six used to run together, handle deals like sibling clubs. It wasn’t until Minho stepped into the role as leader that things went awry. 

Sungmin, the previous head of Deep Six, held the same values as the club did now, loyalty and no senseless acts of violence, not wanting to tarnish the name of the club to make a point and it worked. The main reason Deep Six was a club with chapters in different states and countries was because they were well respected, considered part of the Big Four with the Vagos just underneath them.

That didn’t sit right with Minho, jealous of the power Deep Six held, greedy about connections and cuts regarding deals, deciding to throw away any alliance had with the head of Deep Six for his own personal gain. It had been calculated, both leaders and their right hands present at the warehouse, discussing the way the arms deal would be managed and dealt with in a way they always did. 

That’s when Minho lit a match, mentioning the way specific cops that were on Deep Six’s payroll had begun to follow his men around while they did drops, fueling the fire with accusations of a rat spilling intel, the rat in question being Sungmin. It was common knowledge that rats were to be disposed of regardless of your rank, going against the golden rule of loyalty, and Minho used that to his advantage. 

He was lying but he had planted enough seeds of doubt within his own club to have them believe it, have them trust that Sungmin was the only one who knew what drops Minho’s men would be doing so it had to be him. It didn’t matter that Sungmin denied it, Minho was smart and good with his words, and the second Sungmin reached for his gun when he saw the unhinged look on the other’s face it was too late. 

Seokjin still remembers the shot that rang through the air, the sound of deadweight hitting the floor as Sungmin hit the ground in a bloody heap. 

Minho hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger but he had ordered his right hand to do so, not an ounce of sympathy as he stared down at the way Seokjin desperately attempted to keep Sungmin with him. 

“He was a rat, we had to do it.” Were the only cold words he uttered out, a senseless shrug sent his way before he went about the deal as if nothing had happened. 

Minho knew his lies had nothing to back them up, killing a leader wasn’t dealt with silently, knowing Deep Six would most likely vote to have an eye for an eye. His only saving grace was the fact that he hadn’t pulled the trigger so when Seokjin, the new appointed leader, told Minho he’d have to kill his own right hand, he took pleasure in doing so. 

All of it was worth it to Minho, the loss of a leader left Deep Six scrambling to keep everything in order, allowing him to spread the venom of the Cobras further out. He was comfortable under a false sense of security, creating what he thought were solid alliances with other clubs, forgetting where their true loyalties lied, swinging his blade around like a lunatic to incite fear, deluding himself that fear equaled respectt. 

Minho didn’t realize the true predator hid in the shadows, watching, and waiting for the right moment to attack. It might have taken a few years, but Deep Six felt ready now. 

“We have to go straight for the top for everything to crumble, the Cobras are nothing without Minho.” 

“So what, we kill him?” Jimin asks, dumbfounded at the idea of murdering someone, even as an act of revenge, considering Deep Six’s beliefs went against that. When they had killed the Cobra’s right hand it had been to get even, a mutual agreement between clubs, but it only served as a bandaid for the real problem underneath. This was now a heavy dose of vendetta. 

“No, of course not–“ Namjoon attempts to console him but gets cut off by Seokjin. 

“Yes.” The leader is straight faced as he admits it. “Technically we wouldn’t be the ones killing him though, the Vagos will take care of the high ranked Cobras, along with handling any deals they had with the snakes, and whoever they don’t get won’t be an issue for the Pagans. Minho though, there’s a special order out for him.”

“What, how?” Jungkook wonders, shocked at the thought of murder in general, he was thinking they’d take them down internally and have the system deal with them. He knew the Vagos had deep loyalty with Sungmin, having it watered down when Seokjin thought it’d be best to create space between clubs that violent after dealing with the Cobras, but the talk of bringing the Pagans into this made Jungkook’s skin crawl. 

He’s heard stories of them, knows just how large their club is, spread out further than Deep Six, chapters scattered across the globe with thousands of members with patches to their name. Their history with Deep Six went back to the beginning, their founders being close friends, and although they had ties with cartels and did despicable things, they ran a clean club. Heavy on the loyalty, against dirty moves and cheap shots, but when it came down to it, they lived for blood shed in forms of revenge. 

They were perfect. 

“I know enough people that owe me favors, they won’t mind having to get their hands dirty to stay on our good side.” Seokjin was a smart leader, not inherently violent in nature but he wasn’t a pushover, you only feared him if you crossed him. If he ever gave you a chance to make amends you would take it, and he knew the Vagos were desperate to make amends after the murder of Sungmin. With the help of dirty cops they’d be able to haul Minho in, take him into a cell where he had more enemies than he could count, more people who owed the club favors and would deal with him accordingly. It would be a chain of events that lead to the downfall of the Cobras. 

Deep Six’s alliances ran deeper than the Cobra’s, stretched further across more territories than Minho could even imagine, hidden under wraps because they loved to work in silence. 

Minho thought the Cobras were on top, feared by everyone, no one willing to step in their line of sight but he was blinded by his own ignorance, unaware of just how many people were sick of him. There was a reason Deep Six never stuck around when anything turned hectic, all it would take was one nod from Seokjin to get everyone who Minho swore was under his thumb to turn on him. 

Seokjin allowed him to bask in fake knowledge, it kept his guard down. He could take the petty words thrown his way whenever they crossed paths, the blatant disrespect displayed by the whole gang whenever the meets happened because Seokjin knew the truth. Song Minho was nothing without his group of minions to fight for him, to hold him up high on the pedestal. All it would take was a weaker link at the very bottom, someone he would never suspect, to be knocked out of place for him to come crashing down. 

“Who did you say was with Y/N?”

“Some hangout, his name is Soobin. He doesn’t have a full patch so that’s all I know but I have his number.” Seokjin doesn’t need more, knowing his last name wouldn’t get sewn onto his chest until he was further up but that was enough information for him, knowing Kang Seulgi would do the rest.

It’d work better that way, Seulgi was essentially in charge of knowing everyone, intent on keeping tabs of absolutely everyone who ever crossed paths with her club and those they had alliances with. There’d be a better chance that the hangout would cooperate if she contacted him instead of a member with a patch he had been sworn to stay away from. 

“Tell Y/N we’ll handle it.” 

Jungkook can feel himself breathe a sigh in relief, knowing the leader’s words were golden.

“Are you sure it has to come to this?” Yoongi speaks up, leaning against the table with sharp eyes locked onto the leader. When it came down to it he knew everyone would do whatever he asked of them, trusting his judgement entirely, but he needed to make sure he knew that this is what had to be done. 

“Yes,” Seokjin replies with a nod. The Cobras have been a stain that needed to be wiped out for years now, doing more harm than good in the grand scheme of things. It was best to take care of it now before whatever deals they were attempting to do across states took place. Jungkook’s predicament with you just so happened to be the green light he needed to act on it. 

“Then we’re with you.”

The nerves you feel the minute you open your eyes this morning never fades, stomach feeling queasy as you go about your day, hands shaking while you get yourself ready. It was the knowledge that today would be the day your shackles would get broken off that left you feeling jittery, a mixture of fear and anticipation bubbling up inside of you.

Minho was none the wiser now, currently lounging on the couch with a beer in his hand. It’s almost strange to see him in this casual state, a regular white shirt on him with sweats on his lower half, missing the rings and chains around his neck, the heavy worn leather of his jacket still tucked away in his closet. He looked normal, like a regular boyfriend just waiting around while you finished up your makeup.

It’s that same sense of normalcy that makes your head spin, needing to look away from him when he runs his hands through his dark hair, sending you a smile as he watches you from down the hall. His teasing laugh fills the air as you avert your eyes and close the door of the bathroom, needing to have something separating him from looking at you. 

“Don’t do this, relax,” you mumble to yourself, shutting your eyes as you hunch over the sink, shaky fingers gripping onto the counter. A trembling breath escapes you, fogging up the mirror when you glance up and stare at your reflection, nervous eyes looking right back at you. Every emotion was flooding your system, the pain of losing your family, regret of every decision you’ve made that led you here, self hatred for letting it get this far, and a small dose of sadness from knowing you’d be stepping away from a six year relationship.

You need this to happen though, knowing your relationship has been dead for half of it, even before you met Jungkook you had already been through enough hell to know you wanted a life without Minho, having been broken down so many times to the point where you hardly recognize yourself anymore. It settles your doubts as you think that meeting Jungkook had been the one thing you’ve gotten right in so long, a decision you fully stood behind despite the consequences that came with it all. He helped you find yourself underneath all of the wreckage Minho had caused, piecing you back together and helping you realize you were worth more than Minho had you believe.

The sound of footsteps approach the closed door, the floor creaking as Minho knocks against it, the sudden noise startling you and making your makeup tumble into the sink. “We gotta go soon, are you almost done?”

“Yeah,” you shout back, scrambling to grab the items and stuffing them into the small pouch you had resting a few inches away. “Just give me a minute.”

He grumbles in response, stepping away and into the bedroom to finally change for the meet happening today. You need to remain calm, knowing he could read you with ease, you have no idea how today will transpire so your best bet at keeping your poker face would be to think that this would just be a regular meet like all the others.

That mentality is what keeps Minho unaware of it all, he only comments on the fact that you’re not wearing the usual skirts you do during these meets, his hands rubbing along the denim of your jeans as you sit behind him on his bike. You’re thankful he can’t see the look on your face as you lie about wanting to be comfortable in the cooler weather, flashes of Jungkook mentioning how much he loved your skirts playing in your mind that you have to fight off. The truth behind it being that you know it’d be best to not wear something as flimsy as a skirt in case you needed to get away, in case things turned messy. 

It seems to be enough for him, shrugging in response before turning the key and letting his bike come to life. Like routine, your hands wrap around him as he revs the engine before taking off, the patch on his back burning your skin as you think of what’s going to happen. 

You haven’t been in direct contact with Jungkook since the day at the bodega, only being told by Soobin that they had a plan, otherwise left in the dark of it all. Maybe it was best this way, for you not to anticipate anything, not wonder if anything was going wrong.

As Minho pulls into the lot of the clubhouse, the plethora of members fill out the space as they hover near their own bikes while waiting, you catch a glimpse of a nervous looking Soobin standing near the back with fellow hangouts. He’s right beside your own bike, something Minho had graciously given him because he claimed you no longer needed it, another method of ensuring you’d need him if you wanted to get around. 

You’re not given a chance to get off and speak to him, Minho’s booming voice is heard over his engine as he instructs everyone to follow his lead. The thunderous echo of all the bikes fill the air instantly, members getting into formation as Minho begins riding once more, his right hand pulling up beside him, going down the double lines in ranks from sergeant of arms down to the hangouts at the very back. 

It’s a familiar ride, one you’ve done countless times over the years, recognizing every curve and bump of the road as you near the location. What’s not familiar is the handful of cop cars lingering on the outskirts, police officers sitting inside them, watching as your group approaches. 

“Cops?” You find yourself speaking out loud, not used to seeing this many black and white cars observing you all. 

“Yeah,” Minho huffs out, turning into the entrance of the lot. “They weren’t too fond of the arson we did last time. They’re just here to make sure we don’t blow the place up I guess.”

His voice holds no suspicion, pure annoyance coating his words at knowing the cops would sit and wait for anything to happen, cops that weren’t under the Cobras and would have no qualms about arresting them. 

“Looks like you have to be on your best behavior then,” you joke, nerves calming when he laughs in return, the low rumble blending in with the bikes as they settle into their unofficial spot beside the Vagos. 

They all whoop and holler when your club rides in, Seulgi’s smiling face easily spotted in the front lines as she stands beside her bike, eyes following you as everyone circles around and comes to a stop. 

Looking around at the lot you can’t help but notice that a few clubs are missing, the amount of patched jackets much more sparse than normal. Hells Angels were missing entirely, probably due to the mayhem that transpired last time, not exactly in a rush to be within close proximity of snakes.

A few other clubs you weren’t too familiar with also had their spots empty, Deep Six included, and Minho notices it right away. 

“Huh, no fucking tombstones in sight. Maybe today is a great day afterall.” 

Junseo, Minho’s right hand, cackles at this, pausing the act of lighting up his cigarette in favor of joking around. It only makes you wary as you get off the bike, boldly choosing to walk towards Seulgi without notifying Minho, something he luckily doesn’t reprimand you for, his guard down since he sensed no threat around you all. 

Your black haired friend slips away from her group as well, meeting you halfway with a gentle embrace. “I heard Minho’s been keeping you locked up in a tower.”

“More like the rundown room in the clubhouse,” you snort, allowing yourself to enjoy the brief moment of peace that came with being around her, not needing to tread on eggshells when you spoke to each other. “Who told you?”

Knowing Minho wouldn’t go around gloating about keeping you on a leash due to his own paranoia, someone else must have told her. Considering Soobin has barely started getting familiar with neighboring clubs you can’t suspect it was him, which only leaves– 

“Jungkook.” she confirms, “we had a meeting with Deep Six a couple of weeks ago and he mentioned your babysitter.” Her eyes flicker over to the man in question, still standing by his bike while he talks with the other hangouts, nervous gaze bouncing around from this being his first official meet. When his gaze meets Seulgi’s he freezes for a moment, giving her a soft nod before returning to the conversation he was having. 

“He’s not too bad, good kid, unfortunate circumstances.” You breathe out a sigh as you gesture at the half empty meet. “Where the hell is everyone, half the clubs are missing.”

“With cops parked out front we’re basically like sitting ducks in here, my guess is some clubs aren’t trying to get caught in the crossfire.” She takes note of your sullen expression, clear worry at where Jungkook was, if he was even coming anymore. “Don’t worry, the number one fanclub member of your pussy will be here soon.”

“Shut up,” you snicker, shoving her side as she laughs in that sweet way that lets you forget just how scary she was underneath it all. 

“I won’t be here long though, this turn out kind of sucks and I have some important business to tend to.” She cooes at the pout you give her, softly tapping at your lower lip in light mockery. “Be safe okay?”

That makes you frown for a completely different reason, the slight concern coating the edges of her words not settling right in your gut. She pretends like she doesn’t notice the small crease between your brows, the clear confusion displayed on your features at her vaguely cryptic message. 

“Be safe?” The end of your parroted question gets swallowed by the sound of thunder, a black cloud in forms of sleek metal and rugged jackets floating in. Flashes of red in between it all let you identify them as Deep Six, finally arriving at the meet in an orderly fashion. 

Their turn out is bigger than usual, strange faces you don’t recognize piling in behind them, a flash of yellow and red catches your eye, a glaringly different patch on their backs that you don’t recognize from a club you’ve never seen before. 

Minho knows it though, the flames surrounding a strange figure holding a burning cross make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, eyes locked onto them as they settle in beside each other.

Pagans. 

His guard is back up instantly, suddenly hyper aware that you’re not by his side, and when he spots you beside Seulgi the harsh call of your name grabs your attention. 

“Go,” Seulgi instructs, already stepping away to approach Deep Six and the new club for a brief greeting before she leaves. “I’ll see you soon.”

With her no longer by your side you have no choice but to retreat back to Minho, his sharp eyes making you cower as you close the gap between you. His hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around your wrist and yanking you the final distance until you’re pulled against his chest with his lips by your ear. “Stay close.”

He didn’t know what was going on but his always present paranoia leads him to believe something was up, the jarring suspicion that someone knows something he doesn’t makes his chest burn with a slow simmering rage. He knows he has to keep it together, has too many eyes on him, on edge from the way he had cracked skulls last time, so when you mumble out a confirmation he lets you go. 

Like second nature your eyes search for Jungkook, skimming unfamiliar faces for a split second before moving on, blurs of faces hard to distinguish as they get off their bikes and gather together. He spots you first, wide eyes looking you over, small smile spreading on his lips when you finally find him. He looks handsome in that effortless way he always does, long hair split down the side, framing his face perfectly, all black ensemble down to the shoes, his leather jacket pulling it all together.

The only form of contact you’ve had was between the short spurts that Soobin would grant you, enough information to hold you both together, to ensure him that you were still safe while he worked on a way to get you out. 

It's easy now to get lost in his stare, the mutual feeling of relief felt between you, a silent wave of communication pulling you in so much that you don’t realize you’re being watched. 

It’s like it happens in slow motion, Minho looking at the dazed smile on your face, following the trail of your sight until it lands on Jungkook. It takes him a few seconds, looking between you as his brain tries to make sense of it all until finally, it clicks. 

All his earlier suspicions, the small white lies he had followed until he reached a dead end, for once his paranoia had been right. His jaw ticks out now, feeling like an absolute idiot for not noticing how blind he was, all the signs right under his nose. 

You were fooling around with someone else, a Six of all people, and he has the audacity to look at you like that while Minho stands right there.

A sinister smile spreads across his face as he realizes that Jungkook needs to get knocked down a few pegs, kicked off whatever high horse he thinks he deserves to be on, and what better way than to take it out on you. 

It starts as a slow whisper, his raspy voice slipping through your ear and yanking you out of your trance. 

“I know your dirty secret.” Is all he tells you. 

But it's enough. It's enough for your blood to run cold. The sinking feeling of dread settles into your bones as you turn to stare at him, hoping that your worst nightmare wasn’t about to unfold in front of you, especially when you felt so close to finally getting away. 

Something about your wide eyed gaze spreads a sick sense of satisfaction through him, curling in his gut and filling him with adrenaline. You’re scared, which is absolutely rich considering fear clearly didn’t live inside of you when you were fucking a Six. 

“What are you talking about?” You try to shake him off, act blissfully unaware, but your voice trembles a little too much, your eyes snitch on you, revealing just how fucked you are. 

“Oh you wanna play stupid, hm? Does baby wanna act dumb?” He asks with a tilt of his head, his dead eyes boring into you before flicking over to Jungkook for a split second, and it’s enough to confirm that your nightmare had become a reality.

“Tell me, can you count?” He smiles balefully, his hand trailing up your body, around your shoulders, weaving into the hair at the nape of your neck. You don’t register his fingers latching onto your strands until he delivers a harsh tug when you don’t answer, exposing the column of your throat to him, muscles taut from the stretch. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you gasp out in pain, eyes squeezing shut when yanks a little harder. 

“Now I know you know how to count to five, but somewhere along the way–“ his free hand comes up now, the tip of his index finger tapping harshly against your temple in a condescending manner,  “you must have forgotten what comes after. Tell me, you know what comes after five?”

“S-six,” you wince, a shuddering breath leaving you when you hear the way he chuckles darkly. 

“Yeah, six,” he sighs out. “I know about him.” He murmurs the words against your skin, his lips trailing against your neck as he talks and you know better than to yank out of his grasp, to call attention to yourself. You can feel the low chuckle he lets out, breath hitting your throat and making you cringe as he presses a disgusting kiss against your skin. 

Jungkook is still watching you, not quite sure if this was Minho’s way of showing affection because you never really know. It’s not until your own hand comes up to clutch his that was still in your hair that he realizes you’re in pain. His hands clench by his sides, wanting to march over there and kick his teeth in but when his head turns to look at Seokjin, the leader bearing witness to it all as well, he shakes his head. They have a plan and need to stick with it. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho.” You try your best to convince him, seeing the crazy swirling in his eyes as he pulls back a few inches to stare at you but he’s having none of that. 

“No?” His free hand slides into his front pocket, blindly digging in and pulling out what he searched for. It’s not until the cool metal of a blade is pressing to your skin that you know there’s no changing his mind now. “Should I see if he cares if I have some fun with you then?”

Your jaw is tense now, teeth clenching together as he slowly digs the edge into your skin, your face pulled into a grimace when you see the pure enjoyment in his. How you managed to withstand six years of this bullshit and convinced yourself he cared for you was unbelievable, the illusion shattering as he smiles at the wince you let out. 

You can feel the eyes on you now, fellow Cobras watching it go down with smug smiles, neighboring gangs wondering if they should step in at the clear display of aggression. 

“Minho, please–“

“Mm, yeah go ahead and beg now,” he rasps out, nostrils flaring out as he gives your hair another tug. “Stupid fucking–“

His sentence gets cut off by a mass colliding into him from the side, the force of it causing you to go down with him, his hand tangled into your hair anchoring you down and onto the concrete below with a solid thud that knocks the wind out of you. 

The world vibrates for a minute, vision dazed and blurry from the tumble, not realizing you were on the floor until you’re face to face with the back wheel of the motorcycle you had been standing next to. There’s a burning sensation coming from your neck and when you bring your hand up to soothe it you spot the drops of red coating your fingertips, no doubt coming from the surface level cut Minho’s knife had been responsible for. 

Your hearing slowly comes back, low vibrations in your ear drums fading out until all you hear is the commotion from a few feet away. It takes you a minute to comprehend the scene, Jungkook perched on top of Minho with pure rage in his eyes, fists swinging left and right, the sound of his rings connecting to the side of Minho’s face blending in with his string of profanities. 

It doesn’t last long, by the time you get up to your knees Minho’s minions are already hauling Jungkook off of him, gripping onto his arms and restraining him as their bloody leader stands himself up with a sinister laugh. He spits out a glob of blood onto the floor, splattering over the concrete and onto Jungkook’s shoes. 

Deep Six stood by, waiting for Minho to retaliate, knowing members of the Vagos had rolled out the second Jungkook intervened. Their hesitance gives Minho the wrong impression, fuels his ego and makes him think he’s invincible. With confidence, he retrieves the fallen knife from the floor, wiping the blade against his jeans as he approaches Jungkook, seeing the way he refuses to struggle in the hands of the Cobras, in fact he almost looks satisfied with himself. 

There’s a knot growing on the corner of Minho’s forehead, blood dripping from a gash in his lip from the club rings that had busted it open and Jungkook can’t stop himself from smiling. His lip ring glimmers as he does so, loose strands of hair around his face puffing out with every pant he lets out, brows raising and eyes widening in mockery when the leader points the edge of the blade at him. 

“Watch yourself, Six.”

You know he's unhinged now, fingers clutching the handle of the blade so tightly they pale. Any second now he’ll strike, plunging the tip of his blade in between Jungkook’s ribs with no mercy and you know you can’t let that happen. With shaky legs you lift yourself up and don’t think twice before slipping yourself in between them, caught in the middle, so close you can feel Jungkook’s breath hitting the back of your head. 

“Oh what’s this?” he laughs out, finding pure amusement at you coming to defend the man you had just told him you weren’t involved with, body trembling with laughter that showed how off the deep end he was. 

“Calm down, there's cops outside just waiting for a reason to take you in.”

“You think I care?” he huffs, brows furrowed as he lowers himself closer to you. “Move.”

“No.”

He nods now, tongue coming out to swipe at his bloody lips as he stands up and takes a slow breath. Your chest trembles as you struggle to slow your breathing, heart pumping erratically, hoping he’d listen to you instead of being determined to add another name to his hitlist. 

As his eyes stare at the concrete below, tongue prodding at his cheek, you don’t notice the way he rears his hand back, not realizing his intentions until your heads whipping to the side so hard your brain rattles in your skull. 

The chaos ensues instantly now that he got physical, the side of your face throbbing with pain so hot you feel like you can’t walk, stumbling to the side as you hunch over in agony. Your hand clutches your face, swiping at your lips and wincing at the ache, already tasting the metallic copper seeping into your mouth. 

All you manage to hear is shouts from all around, bodies shoving past you in an effort to jump in now that Deep Six has stormed over with the help of the Pagans. You don’t see the way Tarhyung, a Six with wild eyes and a crazed boxy smile, tackles Minho down with ease, how Jungkook manages to get out of the weak hold the Cobras have on him with the help of his members. His first instinct is to go to you but his need to stick to the plan he already strayed away from keeps him from doing so. 

Through the mayhem he sees Soobin making his way through to you and he relaxes, tuning back in time to dodge a messy punch from a hangout trying to earn respect. Jungkook wasn’t cruel, not intent on hurting someone who doesn’t know better, so instead he grabs their arm, twisting it around their back until they wince in pain. “Get out of here, now.”

Maybe it's the tone he uses or the already present fear in the younger Cobra but he doesn’t fight it, hurrying off and attempting to gather fellow hangouts before the inevitable surely happens. 

The only hangout left now is Soobin, his hands grabbing onto your shoulder so suddenly it frightens you, blindly throwing out a punch that lands on his chest. A sputtered cough and groan that sounds like your name reaches your ears, eyes focusing after the small spell of vertigo from having the lights slapped out of you settles, a frantic looking Soobin inches from your face. 

“Soobin?”

“C’mon,” he orders, gently grabbing onto your hand and yanking you through the bodies and toppled over bikes, giving you no explanation as he reaches his own bike. He urges you on as patiently as his nerves allow him, the two of you forgoing helmets in the haste to leave.

The sound of the engine cutting through the chaos grabs members attention and when Minho spots you perched on the back of a bike with Soobin his eyes go wide from his spot on the floor. The shock of betrayal written on his bloodied face as he shouts for members to follow you. 

Soobin wastes no time now driving off, especially with two high ranked members scrambling to follow you. His hands tremble as they clutch the throttle, your own shaky hands clinging onto his jacket as he speeds through the lot, the additional bikes heard close behind. It’s not until you exit back onto the street that you hear the first bang of a gunshot, heart skipping at the realization that this was happening, a full on coup with public enemy number one being the Cobras. 

“Wait, we gotta go back!” You shout through the noise, the fear of not knowing who was on the receiving end of the gun making your gut twist in anxiety. 

“We can’t!” Soobin yells back, knowing fully well what sort of blood bath it would become, determined to follow instructions to keep you safe and out of harm's way to ensure his own safety. He flies through the streets, ignoring every traffic law to keep the distance from decreasing, zipping through cars and taking turns so sharp you’re convinced you’re going to wipe out. 

Your hands ache from how tightly you grip onto him as turns onto a side street, through unkempt roads and warehouses lining the sidewalk. The still present sound of additional bikes letting him know Cobras were still hot on your trail, just close enough to follow him, exactly where they needed to be. 

You recognize this as Vago territory, an uneasy feeling stirring inside of you at not knowing what the plan was, wondering why Soobin was so confidently driving through the streets of a gang who holds loyalty with a club you two have just betrayed. 

As he passes the large industrial buildings suddenly two more engines join the rumble of the bikes, pulling out from the shadows and riding steady with the Cobras on your tail. 

“Don’t look back,” Soobin pleas, but you don't listen, curiosity eating you alive, mixed with the fear that you’re about to get shot at by whoever the hell just joined in on this chase. 

Turning your head with unease, you spot the additional members, dark green Vagos patches sewn onto their chests and a familiar head of black hair that makes your eyes widen. Seeing Seulgi settles your nerves temporarily, knowing she wouldn’t turn her back on you despite her club’s rules. 

Neither of the high ranked Cobras think twice at the sudden appearance of Vagos, familiar faces that give them the sense of unity, allow them to believe that they just gained two more people to beat you to a pulp once they caught you. 

Your neck is craned back as you observe, seeing the way they greet Seulgi and her fellow member with smiles, the smug look on their faces being wiped clean when they’re suddenly pulling their guns out, pointed right at their temples with insane accuracy. 

A scream dies in your throat as the deafening shots ring through the air, mouth dropped open in a gasp when you see the mess it makes, blood splattering in a spray of red as the bullet exits the other side of their head. The way you flinch and tug at Soobin’s waist nearly makes him lose his balance as you continue cruising, his own ears trying to block it all out, wanting to prevent his mind from remembering this moment forever. 

For a brief moment their bikes continue to ride, it’s not until the dead weight leans to the side that they begin to steer out of control, snaking along the cracked roads until toppling over with a sickening scratch of metal. Sparks fly at the contact, black bikes skipping on the road and dragging their lifeless bodies until coming to a halt, a pool of blood settling underneath them. 

Your eyes are wide as you spot Seulgi perched on her bike, pistol still in her hand as the Cobras lay on the floor a few feet away. She’s only able to give you a wave before Soobin’s turning the corner, the one task he was told to do finally completed. 

“Was that a set up? Soobin what the fuck is happening?”

He can’t get himself to speak, not even being able to witness the scene that had just happened seconds prior. The churning of his stomach makes him halt the bike entirely, yanking your arms off of him as he stumbles off and retches all over the dirt. 

Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this life. 

“Deep Six,” he croaks out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after he spits. “They promised me a way out of the Cobras if I helped.” 

That doesn’t stop the way his skin crawls, he has been in the gang for a few months and because of his low rank has never been around anything so violent. The shock of the gun going off had nearly made him scream and even though he hadn’t seen the aftermath, the pale look on your face was enough to tell him that he didn’t want to. 

“You spoke to them?”

“Not directly, Seulgi connected us, she let me know what they were planning.” He coughs as he stands back up, grimacing at the ground, kicking the dirt in an attempt to hide his shame. 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this though.” Soobin knew shit would hit the fan at the meet today, Minho being predictable when he ordered the high ranked members to follow after you, allowing him to guide them to the necessary location for the Vagos to strike. But the fight that happened was not supposed to go down, Jungkook acting on pure rage and adrenaline when he saw the way Minho handled you. 

The fight made sense to you but you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around what just happened, never picturing the Vagos to be so willing to drive a bullet through a Cobra. 

“Our clubs run together though,” you whisper, Soobin situating himself back onto the bike now that his stomach was empty. He pushes up the kickstand once more, overwhelming nerves dulling down, the only thing he has left to do was get into Deep Six’s clubhouse. 

“Yeah, Minho’s in for a rude awakening when he realizes no ones under his thumb anymore.”

That rude awakening happens faster than he thinks, the first sound of the gunshot sounding off just as you leave sobers Minho’s mind instantly, realizing that this wasn’t just another brawl happening. He can barely see what’s happening anymore, the crazed Six that tackled him down earlier being able to restrain him with ease, flopping him onto his stomach with his knees keeping him pinned down. 

Minho’s cheek is pressed into the cement, a strong grip tangled in his hair while the Taehyung leans forward to whisper in his ear. “Sucks huh? Being forced to watch as your club gets wiped out.”

At first he doesn’t register the words spoken, not until he sees a yellow patched Pagan mercilessly shoot a Cobra. Taehyung chuckles as Minho’s body begins to thrash in the hold he's in when he sees his member hit the ground, the dead eyed gaze of Junseo staring back at him a few feet away. That’s when he understands the plan, eyes bouncing around as best as they could, seeing so many of his members in compromising positions, barely able to fight back before being taken down.

The second shot is the one that sets off the rest, the clear instructions Seokjin had ordered ringing through everyone's ears. Cut the head of every snake. 

Jungkook does his best to block out the sounds around him, the high pitched hum in his ears from the shots making it easier to mask the grunts of pain as he kneels above a damn near unconscious Cobra, chest panting with exertion as he throws the final punch that has the snake’s eyes rolling back. 

His fingers throb now, covered in specks of blood and aching as he stretches them out, shaking it out as he stands up. Running a bloody hand through his hair he huffs out, shoe nudging along the side of the passed out Cobra to ensure he was actually out. His face is pulled into a grimace, the hatred he felt for each and every one of them fueling his fists, wanting to get back at every horrible thing they’ve done, allowing you to get treated the way you have for this long with no shame. 

It's this same hatred that prevents him from feeling guilty when he walks past a lingering Pagan and gestures towards the body on the floor, walking away before he sees the way another bullet finds its home between their eyes. 

He approaches Seokjin standing with Kangdae, the leader of the Pagans, as they observe the chaos, satisfied smiles on their faces when they see just how easy it is to crumble them down. A few scared Cobras had rolled out after the first gun shot, abandoning their club and forgetting about blind loyalty, being chased down by Vagos who were determined to make things right. The remaining Cobras lay on the pavement, differing wounds on all of them, faces beaten and mangled, additional holes in their bodies, the only common thing being their lifeless eyes. 

Taehyung still kneels over Minho, yanking his hair to crane his neck up so he can properly observe the way the Pagans go through and slice off the patches on the dead Cobras. Collecting the stolen patches like trophies, stuffing them into their pockets to be tacked onto the clubhouse wall later on and for some reason that angers Minho further. 

With a final shot ringing through the air, the only living Cobra remains, grunting on the floor as the Pagans round each other up, knowing their job is now done. Seokjin thanks Kangdae with a simple smile, exchanging a handshake as if this was some materialistic transaction before he joins the rest of his club and they ride out. 

Just as they were instructed, the cops lingering outside light their sirens the second the Pagans clear out, their black and white cars driving into the small massacre that just happened in the span of minutes. 

“Should I get Taehyung off of him?” Jungkook wonders, knowing that although these cops were under Deep Six it was still unsure how much aggression they would show to make whatever lie they told believable. 

When Seokjin nods he instantly goes over there, hands curling over Taehyung's shoulder to grab his attention. The older boy's face softens when he sees Jungkook, a few scratches on his cheeks but otherwise unharmed. The glow of red and blue flashing on his features is what gets him to release Minho’s hair, letting his face thump onto the cement without a care as he stands up and wipes his bloody hands on his jeans. 

“Is this the one?” A gravelly voice asks, belonging to a cop as he exits the vehicle and approaches the small huddle around Minho. The rest of the cops linger around, assessing the damage of the bodies, planting weapons and adjusting their limbs to make it seem like a different fight happened, one that required the cops to shoot them in self defense. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin responds, joining Jungkook and Taehyung with a stone cold expression, watching the way the officer grabs Minho’s hands and cuffs them behind his back. The leader of the Cobras doesn’t fight it, still half in shock at what just transpired, he can barely hold himself up when the cop yanks him to kneel. 

“Wait, let me talk to him first,” Seokjin requests, getting no complaints from the cop who just grunts and walks away from Minho’s knelt position. Taehyung decides to walk away now, knowing whatever Seokjin tells Minho will only incite rage from the past inside of him, instead he walks towards Jimin and Yoongi who are perched on their bikes looking just as bloody, leaving Jungkook alone with the leader. 

Jungkook can feel his body shaking, the earlier anger of seeing the way Minho held a knife to your throat still present inside of him, the smug smile on his face lingering despite how absolutely fucked up he looks. 

“You think you’re tough don’t you?” Minho rasps out, a mixture of drool and blood slipping past his lips as he speaks, a dry laugh blending in with the surrounding noise of the cops shuffling around. “Getting someone else to do your dirty work.”

“That doesn’t sound familiar to you?” Seokjin sighs, arms crossing over his chest as he steps closer to him. “You’ve had everyone do your dirty work for years, we’re just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

Minho can only laugh some more, spitting out another glob of blood directly onto Seokjin’s boots before his eyes stare at Jungkook now. His teeth are bloody, strings of thick saliva pulled apart as he opens his mouth to speak. 

“All of this over some whore–“

Jungkook doesn’t let him finish his sentence before his knee collides with the side of his face, Minho’s face whipping to the side as he laughs hysterically, body hunched over as more blood drips out of his nose. His head lolls to the side as he stares at him, slightly impressed at his strength, the fire behind Jungkook’s eyes showing him just how he felt. 

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Jungkook threatens, fingers twitching as he craves tangling them in his hair and beating him until he has no teeth left. 

“Okay, you proved your point,” he rasps out, breathing out of his mouth from the blood gushing from his nose. “You can have her, who knew she was worth all of this.”

Nothing baffles them more than that, how Minho fully believed all of this was just because of you, deciding to turn a blind eye on all of the other atrocities he did in the past few years despite Seokjin being witness to the worst of them. 

That bandage wrapped over Seokjin’s chest aches now, the old wound burning as salt gets rubbed in, staring at Minho’s knelt form. How easy it was for him to block out all the horrible things he’s done, convinced it was for a greater good. It's the flashes playing in his mind from that day, seeing the way Sungmin had crumbled to the floor, that make Seokjin reach behind him, fingers wrapping around the barrel of his gun before he pulls it out. 

Jungkook turns when he sees it, his own eyes wide as Seokjin aims it right at Minho’s forehead. That's what gets the smile to wipe from Minho’s face, the realization that something had switched inside the other leader. 

“Seokjin, hey, don’t do this.” Jungkook reaches a hand out to place on his shoulder, urging him to drop the gun. “We have a plan, remember? You don’t have to get blood on your hands, brother.”

Seokjin doesn’t hear any of it, jaw clenched tightly as he stares at the Cobra’s eyes, hand trembling as he points his gun at him, every nerve ending screaming at him to stop, blending in with Jungkook’s pleas. “I want to kill him too, but you can’t do this.”

Minho’s surprise turns into nervous laughter, knowing his luck is coming to an end now that he’s face to face with the end of the barrel. “C’mon, listen to the boy, you don’t wanna do this right?”

Jungkook glares at the bloody Cobra again, his mocking words very well being what determines whether he dies now or not, fueling Seokjin's anger further until all he feels is the flames growing inside of him. 

“Do you feel it?” he asks, voice low and emotionless. “That same sick fear Sungmin felt when you turned on him.”

Minho shuts up now, finally understanding why this was happening, what form of revenge this was, and all he can do is kneel here and take it. The few years spent wreaking havoc finally catching up to him, but for some reason he doesn’t feel the fear Seokjin’s talking about. 

A sick smile spreads across his bloody lips as Seokjin cocks the safety back. “I’ll say hi to your brother when I see him.”

Jungkook gasps now as Seokjin finally pulls the trigger with no hesitation, averting his eyes as the sound vibrates in the air, the wet thump of Minho’s body hitting the floor a few feet away from his shoes making his breathing falter. He refuses to look at the body, turning his back to it all as Seokjin sighs and replaces the gun back behind his belt. 

The dirty cops curse now as they see the new blood, the loss of whatever bets they had placed for how long Minho would last in his cell going down the drain now that Seokjin has finished him off. The leader doesn’t care, looking at the cop that had initially cuffed Minho and waving him over. 

“Figure this out.” Is all he tells him before turning to face Jungkook, seeing the way the younger man goes silent at what he witnessed. “Go tell Y/N it’s dealt with, no more Minho, no more Cobras.”

Jungkook knows he's in no position to refuse, giving him a short nod before walking away. The other members stand by their bikes, all shell shocked at what just happened, none of them even questioning Jungkook as he straddles his Vulcan and wastes no time getting out of there as fast as he could. 

He’s in a daze the whole way to the clubhouse, mind spinning with possibilities, wondering if you and Soobin had even made it there safely or if you’d been ambushed by the Cobras who followed you. 

It’s not until he pulls into the clubhouse’s lot and sees the black Dyna with saddlebags that he lets his mind settle. 

Cutting the engine off he practically leaps off his bike, in a haste to get inside and see you after all of this. He throws open the club’s doors, the resounding bang against the wall making everyone inside jump, the member’s girlfriends who sat surrounding you scolding him but he pays them no mind, making a beeline right to you. 

You’re standing instantly, clear relief on your face when you see he’s okay. The girls had reassured you it would all be fine but you couldn’t allow yourself to believe it, not until you actually saw him. 

“Oh my god, you’re here,” you breathe out, letting him wrap his arms around you, face burying in the crook of your neck as he holds you close. Your fingers press into his back, the rough leather feeling like home as you run over the seams of his patches. 

“Yeah, can’t get rid of me now sweetheart,” he laughs out, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck before standing up straight. His words hold more meaning, the knowledge that you’d no longer have to deal with Minho obvious, not needed to be said out loud and to be honest, you don’t want him to. You’d rather believe he never existed, a horrible nightmare you were finally waking up from. 

Jungkook takes note of your face now, the beginnings of a bruise blossoming by your cheekbone from earlier, the small cut on your throat no longer bleeding since one of the girls had helped you tend to it. His hand gently cups your cheek, softly rubbing the tender skin but your smile doesn’t falter, looking at him like it was the first time. 

His eyes show clear exhaustion but the ever present love is still there on his face, shown on the swells of his cheeks as he smiles, the crinkle of his nose when he sees the way you stare at him. The black strands that fell over his face are raked back now, a disheveled mess that he’ll deal with later, once you’re both home and away from this. 

“Do you wanna go?” he asks softly, face inching closer to yours as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Can we?” you wonder, not sure how the club ran and if you’d be allowed to just leave after this mayhem just happened. You desperately want to get away though, needing to be alone with Jungkook, not having the mental capacity to handle talking to the other members when they eventually arrive but one thing claws at your mind. “What’s going to happen to Soobin?”

Jungkook smiles at your worry, spotting the younger boy lounging on the couch, surrounded by a few of the hangouts that belong to Deep Six. “Namjoon will handle him, don’t worry he’ll be in good hands. Now let’s go.”

Stepping through the door of Jungkook’s house makes a weight lift off your shoulders, everything still the exact same from the last time you were here and as you walk into his room you see an additional photo on his nightstand now. It’s a photo of you alone, an older one he must have taken back when you would stick to the small conversations outside of the bodega, tongue stuck out and tinted blue from the candy you had consumed. It makes your heart warm in your chest. 

“I missed you okay, don’t flame me for it,” he mumbles when he catches you staring at it, arm loosely slung around your waist as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“I would never flame you for this,” you scoff, chuckling when he snorts in response, rolling his eyes jokingly as he steps away from you and approaches the bathroom. 

“I’m gonna shower really quick, make yourself comfy please.” He desperately wants to wipe himself clean of the grime, needing to shower in hot water to rid himself of the events of the day and you understand, giving him a simple nod as you settle on the bed. 

The door of the bathroom is left cracked open, the sound of the water turning on spilling through, Jungkook’s low mumbling mixing in with it all and you smile. Falling back onto his sheets, the soft fabric rubs against your cheek, the prominent scent of fresh laundry mixed with the musk of his cologne filling your senses. 

Your eyes flutter open, locking onto the first picture frame angled to face the bed, the same one you saw before. With a roll you’re able to reach it, fingers curling around the black frame and bringing the picture close to you. The image of the two of you smiling wide, locked in an embrace, is what finally lets you breathe. 

Suddenly, the urge to be beside him takes over you, setting the frame back in it’s rightful spot as you stand up from the bed, slowly slipping out of your clothes before sneaking towards the bathroom. 

As you push the door open you spot Jungkook through the steamed up glass doors, the ink on his arms looking like blobs from the fog, his head hung forward as he stands directly under the showerhead. He has his eyes shut, letting the water cascade down his back, washing away the stress of the last few weeks. 

He hears the sliding of the glass door as you step in behind him, a soft smile on his face as he waits for you to make a move, the pleasant surprise being your soft hands wrapping around him. They gently settle over his chest, your cheek resting against his back as droplets of water flow down you too. 

His skin feels smooth, hints of that lemon-rose body wash you know he loves filling your senses, making you cling to him tighter in search for comfort. Jungkook turns to look back at you, slowly twisting around in your grasp, letting you rest your cheek on his chest now. 

With half opened eyes you see the swirls of ink centimeters from your face, the familiar wingspan of the owl and grey skulls tucked underneath letting you accept that he was actually here with you, a small hum of content leaving your lips as you press even closer to him.

That's when you spot the gold glimmer hung around his neck, something that was concealed under his shirt earlier, tucked away and kept safe. Your heart skips when you realize what it is, a golden letter of your first initial, long enough to rest between his lungs, right beside his heart. 

“What’s this?”

He hums in question before looking down, seeing the way your nose nudges against the small charm resting on his chest, a small blush spreading on his cheeks. “I told you I missed you. I wasn’t lying.”

“Missed you more,” you mumble, pressing a soft kiss against his skin, warm drops of water felt against your lips, the soft beating of his heart lulling you into a state of serenity.

Jungkook’s arms wrap around you now, cradling your head close to him as he bends forward to rest his chin on your head. “You okay?” he wonders, hearing the way you snort before you move to look up at him instead. 

“I think I should be asking you that.”

He smiles, face looking youthful as he does so, dewy cheeks shining in the light. “I’m fine baby, I just need you to know you’re going to be okay now.” 

His hands move to cup your cheeks, needing you to understand how much he means that, determined to do absolutely anything to ensure you feel safe here, comfortable enough to be yourself, to not walk on eggshells around him. 

You get it instantly though, knowing nothing but security when it comes to being around Jungkook, knowing that everything he says or promises you rings true. The feeling of being appreciated and cared for seems like such a minimal expectation, but after being without it for so long anything like this just makes you want to show him how much you care for him too. 

So you do, leaning up on the tips of your toes until your lips are slotting perfectly between his, his nose nudging against your cheek as he tilts his head for you. The love you feel for him being shared between this, displayed in soft smacks of your lips, the gentle carding of his fingers through your hair, the breathy laugh he lets out between the splash of the water on the tiles when you playfully nip his lower lip. 

“I know, I trust you Jungkook.” You mumble between kisses, your hand gliding down his sides. The tips of your fingers trace the lines of his muscles, familiarizing yourself with each curve of his ribs as you slide towards the center of his body, low low lower, until you’re grasping his cock in your palm. 

He groans against your mouth now, weeks of not being around you and left to his own devices leaving him sensitive and needy for your touch.  “Fuck Y/N.”

“Feel good?” you wonder, mouthing kisses along his jaw, down his neck and hearing how he hums in response. A shaky exhale spills from his lips when you start to pump your hands down his slowly hardening cock, fingers just shy of touching as you give him a squeeze. He feels heavy in your grasp, veins felt along your fingertips as you glide your hand back up to circle his engorged head, no doubt red and desperate for your attention. 

“Yeah, feels good.”

His hands loosen their hold on you as you slowly start to drop down, a trail of kisses placed down his body before you’re settling onto your knees on the shower floor. Jungkook shivers when your nails lightly trace the tattoos on his thighs, following the cursive script on his right thigh before moving to the bold lines of the double headed wolf on his left. He’s patient as you admire his tattoos, knowing the wolf is one of your favorites, how you’ve called it a travesty because it’s hidden under his jeans half the time.

“Pretty,” you murmur, rubbing the skin with the pad of your thumb and a small smile on your face.

“You think so?” he humors you, letting his fingers softly card through your hair, push it off your face before it has a chance to obscure your vision.

“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing the base of his cock once more, bulbous head already leaking from your gentle touches alone. “Your cock is prettier though.”

He hisses lightly, head dropping down to stare directly at you as you lead your mouth to press a soft kiss to the tip of his hardened cock, lips smearing the translucent beads of precum before you lick it off. With wide eyes you stare at him, looking as innocent as you can be when you gently lick a trail along the bottom of his cock. “Can I make you feel better?”

“F-fuck, please,” Jungkook sputters out, running a hand through his own hair to keep him from pushing you down onto his cock, head dropping back momentarily and letting the water flow down his inky locks before looking down once more.

The desperation lacing his voice makes your core throb, thighs pressing together as your mouth salivates at the sight of him. The tip of his cock peeks out each time you glide your hands down, precum gathering at the slit and looking so inviting. He watches with bated breath as you lick your lips over, jaw dropping open with your tongue pushed out slightly before you let him rest against it, the salty taste of him hitting your lips first as you wrap your mouth around him beautifully.

Jungkook swears he might cum now, slowly sinking into the wet, inviting warmth of your mouth, the slow bobs of your head teasing him as you pull back before sinking in further than the last. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck, eyes fluttering open to stare up at him as you swirl your tongue around his tip before swallowing him once more.

“Fuck, just like that,” he groans, thighs tense as you rest your hand against them, free hand still wrapped along the base of his cock to help you pump what you couldn’t yet fit in your mouth. “My pretty baby always does such a good job sucking my cock.”

His praise makes you hum against him, the vibrations felt along his length, sending a shiver up his spine, leaving his jaw clenched together as you sink down with more determination. As the tip of his cock prods at the back of your throat he lets out a moan of your name, fingers gripping the strands of your hair when you swallow, your throat tightening around him and making him shudder.

Your eyes stay locked on his, seeing the absolute pleasure etched onto his features, top teeth biting down on his glimmering lower lip, coated in his saliva and swollen from your kisses. As you repeat the same motion, sinking as far as you can with a wet slurp, Jungkook’s hips have a mind of their own, thrusting into your mouth without warning, too lost in the feeling of it but as you gag around his cock he pulls back instantly.

“Shit, sorry baby,” he apologizes, fingers pushing up your chin as he makes sure you’re okay.

With a wet cough you’re looking up at him with a glimmer in your eyes, pure mischief in your features and it makes his stomach flip, makes him want to ruin you. “Do that again, please,” you beg. “Fuck my mouth.”

Jungkook curses above you, hating the way his cock twitches at your filthy words, head screaming for him to do it, to do what you ask and have you gagging around his cock. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

“You won’t, I promise.”

He’s not given a moment to protest, the curve of your tongue underneath his cock pulling him in, allowing him to sink back into your mouth with ease, less resistant than before. The saliva gathered in your mouth aids in the slip, the obscene slurps echoing in the shower as you let the hand gripped around his cock fall to the side, a clear indicator for him to do what he wants.

Your jaw drops open further, nice and slack, lips pulled taut around him and he can’t help but thrust forward again, experimentally at first, barely an inch pushing forward but you hum in content, let your eyes fall shut as he repeats the motions.

Jungkook moans freely now, his free hand coming to gingerly cup your cheek, fingers resting along your jaw, soothing your skin as he fucks into your mouth. The small gags you let out bounce off the tiles, mix in with the wet thrusts of his cock hitting the back of your throat, the needy groans of your name flowing from his mouth. You can feel your own arousal coating your thighs, aching want growing inside of you with each cry he lets out.

“God, I love your mouth,” he rasps, smiling when he sees the bit of drool that spills from your lips, coating his cock in a nice sheen before dripping down your jaw and onto your skin. With a quivering breath you’re looking up at him again, misty eyes that reflect the light above you, tears coating your lower lashes before spilling over and down your face. Jungkook shushes you gently, thumb wiping away the stray tears in a sweet motion that contrast the way his hips snap forward, cursing as your throat squeezes around him.

You look absolutely wrecked, wet trails coating your cheeks, mixing in with the drool around your lips. Jungkook can feel his release creeping up on him, cock throbbing in your mouth, begging to be pushed further in so he can cum down your throat but he needs to get a taste of you first. Against all of his urges he’s pulling you off his messy length, slick with your spit and his precum as it bounces in the air.

“What happened?” You can barely speak, throat raw from his ministrations but you wanted to see him fall apart.

“Fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he sees the way you look at him with swollen lips, tits covered in spit, coating your skin as it fell from your mouth, leaving your nipples pebbled between your piercings. “Don’t wanna cum down your throat.”

A deadly smile graces your face as you smirk, slowly lifting yourself up on weak legs. Your intention is clear as you turn around, palms placed against the damp shower wall and an enticing wiggle of your hips for his enjoyment. Jungkook throws his head back at the sight of your ass, skin smooth and inviting, not being able to resist the way his hand shoots forward to land a swift slap against your cheek, skin jiggling from the force as you giggle.

“No baby, not here.” He leans forward, caging you in with his chest pressing onto your back, sticky length slotted right between your ass as he rests his lips by your ear, slowly rutting against you. “Wanna take my time with you, the way I’ve always wanted to.”

His voice sends chills down your spine, makes goosebumps flare on your body as you bite your lip, nodding instantly at the proposition. 

“Bed, now.”

You waste no time listening to him, pulling the shower door open before scurrying out of the bathroom, feet leaving a small trail of water before you reach the carpeted floors of his room. 

Jungkook chuckles at your excitement, shutting off the shower before meeting you in there, seeing you perched on the bed already, body displayed like every one of his wet dreams. Your head is resting on the small mountain of pillows he has, pert breasts rising and falling with each of your breaths, feet gliding on his comforter as you slowly open up your thighs for him. 

He licks his lips over at the sight, folds coated in your arousal, slick clinging to your thighs and showing him just how much you enjoyed having his cock in your mouth. 

Jungkook slowly rests his palms on the bed, that same predatory look in his eyes that made your heart race, creeping forward in a slow glide that fills you with anticipation. He rubs the side of his face along your knee, eyes shut at the soft feeling of your skin, following the slope of your legs until he reaches the swell of your inner thighs. 

You’re almost positive he has a kink for this, would most likely want nothing more than to slip his cock between the juncture of your thighs and get off that way, and considering you’d want nothing more than to do the same with his thighs you don’t tease him.

Instead you smile, drop a hand down to wipe away the small beads of water that coat his forehead, tracing the arch of his brows as he presses a kiss to your skin. His large palms come up to grope the meat of your thighs, firm squeezes that make your core throb, loving the roughness of his grip. A flash of gold catches his attention though, eyes widening slightly when he realizes he hadn’t taken his rings off in the shower. As he starts to slip them off you let out a whine in protest, gripping his wrist before he can pull them off, an eyebrow raised in question as you do so.

“Keep them on, please.”

Jungkook chuckles at your request, he knew how much you loved to feel them whenever he touched you so really, he should’ve known better but still he can’t help but tease you. “Dirty girl,” he kisses your skin once more. “Whatever my pretty baby wants.”

Securing the rings on his fingers he smiles up at you, resting on his tummy with his face inches from your pussy. He lets his hands trail teasing touches to your skin, inching towards your center before circling up to your mound. 

“Miss your skirt,” he admits, his horny tendencies making him wish he could eat you out with it on just like last time, remembering all of the filthy things you’ve done with that flimsy article of clothing. 

“I know you do, you horn dog. I’ll make sure to wear it next time,” you promise him, twirling a strand of his hair in your hands, giggling when he visibly perks up, wiggling his eyebrows at you before placing a firm kiss to your pussy. The first touch always sends you reeling, knowing exactly what's to come with Jungkook’s tongue you just lay back and enjoy.

His index finger comes down, gently pressing against your clit in a touch so light it makes you whimper, teasing circles intent to frustrate you judging by the smug smile on his lips. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Is all he says before he’s licking a stripe up your folds, tip of his tongue collecting each drop of your arousal and groaning at the taste of you, still fully standing behind his statements of wanting to live between your legs.

His tongue feels like heaven, curling up as it flicks against your clit, his fingers spreading you apart so he could get a better taste. Plump lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently until you’re sighing above him, hips just barely rutting into his face, searching for more and he gives it to you. Nose buried into your mound as he sucks with more force, chuckling against your skin when your fingers yank at his hair, a moan of his name reaching his ears that he indulges in.

“Guk, ah!” you cry out as he hums around your clit, the soft vibrations shooting through your core, leaving you gasping as you throw your head back. There was nothing you loved more than having Jungkook ravish you, letting him break you down into a stuttering, crying mess all because of his mouth and he lived for it. He lived to see you whining, begging for him, it made his heart throb and his cock ache, getting absolute pleasure from seeing you enjoy yourself.

He knows what you really want though, his index finger slowly sliding down your slit, prodding at your entrance and the way your tight ring of muscles clench at his teasing makes him chuckle darkly. “Mm, so needy.”

“Shut up, want you.”

He circles his finger once more, letting the tip of it just barely sink into you. “Want me or my fingers, baby?”

“B-both, fuck Jungkook, please.” He finds your begging so cute, never one to deny you. Knowing you must be just as desperate as he is he finally lets his finger sink in, slipping into your warmth like it was meant to be there. Your walls suck him in, wrap around his digit until he’s pressed to the hilt, the cool sensation of his golden band felt against your skin and you mewl filthily at it.

Fuck you were dirty, but you were his and he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

His lips resume what they were doing, lapping at your pussy as he pumps his finger into you, the gush of your arousal leaking around his fingers, dripping down your ass and onto the sheets below in a sticky mess. He doesn’t need you to beg for more, his middle finger quickly joining the first and stretching you open further, scissoring inside of you, curling up and rolling in a come here motion until you’re twitching in the sheets and rutting your hips up with more force.

“Again, f-fuck Guk,” you whine, words stretched out, dripping in lust and want and it was all for him. His lips latch around your clit again, slow pulses sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth, sending your mind spinning as he pumps his fingers into you in a smooth rhythm. The wet smack of his palm against your folds sounds like music to his ears, needing to hear it louder he adds his third finger in, the letters spelling SIX pressed flush against your cunt. 

Jungkook knows it’s wrong, to find so much enjoyment in seeing his club name shining back at him, coating in strings of your arousal as you scream out his name, knowing he shouldn’t get this turned on after all the shit that happened today. But he lets himself have this moment, knowing you love feeling the rings press into your skin, fueling your desires and making the hunger grow in your mind. 

He shuts his eyes now, fully savoring it all, smiling against you when he finds the soft patch inside of you, your hips writhing around as he rubs against it, walls fluttering around his digits. 

“Close, don’t stop,” you laugh out, hysterical with lust as he shakes his head side to side against you, the ticklish feeling making the coil tighten inside of you. His fingers buried into your cunt, spreading you apart as he pumps them into you in a beautiful rhythm, it lights your skin up and leaves you craving the stretch of his cock, leaves your walls clamping around him in search for more.

Your hips work together with his tongue now, searching for your release in desperation and Jungkook is set on finding it for you, never ceasing his motions. He keeps the flow going, can feel your thighs twitching around him, your feet gliding uselessly on the sheets, chest hiccuping as your tummy tenses up. He knew your pussy well, could read your body with ease, and when you crane your head down to look at him, seeing his dark eyes boring into you with his lips latched onto your clit, you’re a goner.

“Oh fuck!” you scream out, hands pulling at his hair with force as your mind blanks, body set alight as your climax washes over you. White pleasure crashes against your skin, pulls you in with each wave, leaves you limp and sinking into the shores of your mind. Jungkook smirks at the way you go pliant in his grasp, hand dropping from his hair as he continues to suck against you, loving the small twitches of your body as he slurps the last drops of you with his tongue.

“Taste so good,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs, leaving a trail of wetness from his lips coated in your orgasm, sticky fingers clutching onto your hips. “Wanna have you for every meal.”

“You’re so corny,” you giggle out, spreading your thighs further apart as he slowly kisses his way up your body, his tongue peaking out and licking up your stomach, curling under the swell of your breast before he’s wrapping his lips around your nipple. The warmth of his mouth makes you gasp, pushing your chest up as you grip his hair again. His ringed hand grabs your neglected breast, squeezing the supple flesh before circling the hardened bud, the cool metal of your piercing felt against his fingers.

“I thought I was a horn dog,” he retorts as he pops off your nipple, leaving it coated in his saliva, glimmering in the dim light of his room.

“You’re both, like a two for one special.” Jungkook smiles at this, bunny teeth exposed as he chuckles, a slight shake of his head making his slowly drying strands fall around his face. 

When you pucker out your lips for a kiss he reaches up to meet you, slick lips pressed against your own, swallowing the soft sighs you let out as you place your hands on his firm chest. He lets you push him over, flopping onto his back as you settle on top of him.

“Wanna ride you.” You say it so sweetly, like you’re asking him for a small favor instead of telling him you wanna rock his world in better words.

“Whatever you want baby,” he breathes out, back propped up by the pillows. He can feel your drenched core against him, his cock still hard and pressed against your ass, begging for your attention. 

Large palms slide up your sides, roaming up your back in a soothing motion as you smile down at him, hand reaching behind you to grab his thick cock and position him at your entrance.

His tip prods at your entrance, a hushed sigh concealed by your lips as you slowly sink down. The stretch of his cock feeling like a delicious ache that you welcome with each inch you take, having missed the full feeling that came from this. You slide down all the way with a humph, thighs pressed flush against his as you moan unabashedly. 

Jungkook feels like everything is right with the world now, buried inside your heat, feeling the small trembles of your body as he holds you close.

“Hold on,” he sighs out, hot pants of breath felt against your skin, palms digging into your back until your chest is flush with his. The last thing he wants is to bust his load this early, your warmth intoxicating him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he groans. You need the time to adjust to his size anyways, a teasing smile on your face when you pinch his chin in your fingers, tilting his head up to stare at you before you’re crashing your lips against him once more.

Jungkook doesn’t know if this is any better, enjoying kissing you as much as he does fucking you but he can’t pull away, allowing you to lick your way into his mouth as his cock remains buried in your pussy. The curve of it nudges just right inside of you, pushes against the sweetest spots as you fidget in his lap, your tongue licking against his, tickling the roof of his mouth in that way he loves. He can feel his cock pulsing inside of you, the small flutters of your walls pulling him under, the puddle of your arousal dripping down his length and settling into his skin only making him want to thrust up into you. 

His lashes flutter against his cheeks, the plush feeling of your lips making his heart race, eyes finally slipping open when you pull his lower lip back and let it snap against his teeth before licking at his lip ring teasingly.

“Ready?” you whisper, eyes half lidded and clouded with desire. Jungkook can only nod, exhaling a shaky breath when you lift your hips up slowly, tight walls dragging against his cock as you do so, the slick glide allowing you to raise until only his tip remains before you’re sinking back down. His hands glide down your back, rings leaving a cold trail on your skin as he reaches your ass, palms grabbing a firm handful as he helps you find your rhythm.

You loved when Jungkook took control, held you down and fucked you until you couldn’t see straight, left you crying as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. But there was something special that coursed through you when the cards flipped, some sick rush that you know he felt too when you were on top, setting the pace. In reality you knew he was still in control, only letting you think you were in charge, mind convinced you were using him like your own personal sex toy. But the rough grip he has on your ass reminds you of the truth, and it instills that same thrill in you. 

“Shit Y/N,” he drawls out as your hips gain fluidity, riding him with ease, walls sucking him in each time. His hand rears back, landing a sharp smack against your ass, smarting your skin as the sound echoes in the quiet room, your velvety walls tightening around him deliciously. 

A small whimper leaves your mouth, begging him to do it again, to mark you up, make you remember this moment tomorrow so he does. The slight burn of the metal on your skin leaves you panting above him, picturing how pretty it’ll look tomorrow thanks to him. 

With each smack of his palm you’re falling apart, arousal gushing out of you, increasing the volume of the wet squelches of your pussy being split open. The curve of his cock makes you dizzy, leaves you stuttering on top of him each time it rubs against that sweet spot inside of you. He can’t look away from where you connect, mesmerized by the way you cream his cock, leave it shiny and covered in your essence with each lift of your hips.

“Fuck you feel so good,” you mewl, gasping as his mouth once again envelopes around your tit, tongue lapping at your nipple, flicking it with a satisfied hum as you drop your head back, pushing your chest further into his mouth. 

The added stimulation of his mouth turns you into a puddle above him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, hips never losing their motion.

Jungkook swears he’s never seen you look more beautiful than when you’re lost in your pleasure, jaw slack as you moan for him, eyes barely able to stay open as he fills you up just the way you’ve wanted. It’s the one thing you’ve been craving in your time apart, coming second in terms of spending time with him, but nothing compares to how quickly he’s able to make you fall apart. 

“Gonna cum baby?” he teases, already feeling the way your walls tighten around him the longer you bounce on him. Sticking his tongue out, he lets it trail against your nipples as your tits jiggle from the action, enjoying the shiver that courses through you when you meet his gaze. 

“Yeah,” you whine, letting his hands guide you, weak thighs slowly giving up on you as your second orgasm approaches you. His skin was slick with sweat now, resting his feet flat on the bed before he began thrusting up into you, meeting your hips each time you came back down, his cock felt deep inside of you, tip of his length kissing your cervix each time, making sparks flash behind your lids each time you blinked.

With a trembling hand you’re sliding it down your body, fingers meeting your sensitive clit and nearly sobbing as you start to circle the swollen bundle of nerves. A choked moan fills the air, eyes rolling back as the euphoric feeling shoots through you, fingers pushing yourself over the edge for the second time this night. 

Jungkook looks at you with stars in his eyes, mouth dropped open in awe as you cum around his cock, leave it nice and creamy, weak body resting on him as he fucks you through it until you're keening from overstimulation and retracting your hand from your throbbing clit. His hands slide along your body as you tremble, soft pants hitting his skin and making him shiver. 

“You good baby?” he pants, stilling your hips and gently flipping the two of you over once again, sticky length slipping out of you as he rubs the side of your face. 

“Never better,” you sigh in a daze, legs spreading apart for him once more, moaning softly when you feel his heavy cock pressed against your slit, still just as hard as it was when he fucked your throat in the shower. “Fuck me, wanna feel you fill me up Guk.”

Jungkook hums at your words as he fists his cock, giving it a few languid pumps before slapping it against your pussy, chuckling darkly when you twitch at the sensation. With a quiet moan he’s guiding his cock back into your messy cunt with an embarrassing squelch, the wet noise filling the room as he starts a quick pace. 

You’re beyond sensitive now, soft mewls leaving your mouth with each thrust, tender walls fluttering against him and Jungkook knows he’ll never want to be with anyone else. His eyes lock onto yours, amazed at how easy it is to turn you into a blubbering mess beneath him, to have you staring at him with teary eyes and drool nearly dripping out of your mouth from how drunk his cock made you feel.

His hands cling to your hips now, so tightly it dimples your skin, keeps you in place as he pistons into you. Deliberate rolls of his hips that are intent to make you scream his name, something you easily do when he hits the right spot inside of you, cock filling you up perfectly. 

Jungkook doesn’t know where to look, overwhelmed with the moment, eyes floating from your scrunched up face, the way your tits bounce with each thrust, and your drenched pussy sucking him back in each time. It’s sensory overload for him, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes it all in, palms sliding further up until he’s gliding up your ribs. His thumbs rub the undersides of your breasts for a brief moment as he speeds up, hands eventually moving to rest by your head as he leans further over you, desperate for his release. 

Each of his thrusts has his gold chain rocking above you, your first initial glimmering in the light as it just barely grazes the tip of your nose. You’re transfixed on it, bleary vision focusing on it as you whine out his name, seeing it sway with each rock of his hips and suddenly it hits you, crashing over you in a sobering realization. 

You love him. 

Your hands slide up, tracing the bold six on his upper right arm and for once not feeling ashamed at the sight of it, gliding further up and around his shoulders while you desperately wrap them around him as you stare up at him. “I love you, fuck I love you so much.” It comes out as a cry, sounding delirious from the way it slurs together but you mean it just the same. 

His fluid hips falter for a moment, shocked at first, brows pinched together in confusion when he thinks he heard you wrong. “What?”

“I love you Jungkook,” you repeat without hesitation, a nervous look on your face that slowly fades when you see the realization on his features, eyes wide, relief on his face in the form of a smile at knowing you loved him too.

“Fuck, I love you too baby,” he moans deeply, bending forward to kiss you, sloppy as you pant into each others mouths, teeth knocking from the force of his thrusts but it does the job. “So fucking much.”

Your heart swells at his confession, everything wrong in your life becoming obsolete because of this moment. Every single wrong decision, horrible days lumped on end with rays of light found in the slices of time spent with him feels worth it now. All that matters is him, seeing him above you with pure adoration on his face, looking at you like you were the one responsible for the sun coming up every morning. You hope he knows the feeling is mutual, runs just as deep inside of you because you knew he was responsible for the stars in the sky.

A particular thrust brings you back, gasping for air as his hips snap against yours, thighs slapping together as he picks up his pace, feeling the way you tighten around him. Your hands rush to cup his face, staring up at him with love floating around you, seeing his doe eyes gleaming as you do so. 

He smiles as you start pulsing around him, knowing how sensitive your pussy is after cumming twice back to back, angling his hips to fuck you just right, snickering when you squeal in pleasure. “You close?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, hooking your legs around him, keeping him close as his pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit deliciously. “Guk,” you whine out and he knows what you want, not even needing you to ask before he’s smiling down at you. 

“Open your mouth love.” You comply instantly, eyes fluttering shut as he revs his throat and spits into your mouth, thick glob of saliva hitting your tongue and you moan at the sensation, throat moving as you swallow the load before sticking it back out for more.

“That's my good girl, fuck,” he grunts when your moans raise in pitch, eyes locked onto his as your pleasure spikes, blooms in your stomach and starts to spread, pleas for more begging him not to stop. “Wanna feel you cum around my cock again baby, c’mon.”

“Guk, please.” Your hands hold onto him for dear life, face pinched together in the cutest scowl, lips swollen from how hard you bite them, moans still managing to slip past as you let the feeling take over you. 

With a few more thrusts you’re pushed over the edge, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure rocks through you, buzzing felt all the way down to your fingertips as you cum. Jungkook is in awe once more as he watches you, the prettiest face as you fall apart and cry out his name.

“Fuck you’re mine,” he grunts, hand sliding up your throat and towards your face, cupping your cheek until his thumb glides across your slick lower lip, tracing the curve of it tenderly. 

“Yours,” you slur out, tongue peaking out to lick his finger before he’s slipping it into your mouth, groaning as you suck on it, swirling your tongue around it and hollowing your cheeks as if it was his cock. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, loud slaps of your skin connecting sounding like pure sin. “Never getting rid of me baby, mine forever.” His hips thrust sloppily now, your mewls of pleasure spurring him on.

“Gonna fill you up,” he grunts out, needing to fill you to the brim, claim you as his the way he always did, wanting nothing more than to see globs of his cum leaking out of you.

“Please,” you plead around his finger, and it's the last sound he hears before he’s spilling his load inside of you with a string of profanities, thick cock twitching as spurts of his cum warm up your walls, shallow thrusts into your messy cunt riding him out until he’s stilling his hips altogether.

His whole body trembles for a minute, brain wiped clean as the feeling rocks through him, finally coming back and seeing you sprawled out underneath him with a satisfied smile. Your chest heaves as you attempt to catch your breath, a soft mewl escaping you when his softening cock slips out of you, the gush of cum dripping out making you want to clamp your thighs shut but his hands stop you. 

Jungkook shushes you gently when you whine as his fingers gather the globs of white, slowly pushing them back into you until you’re fully stuffed once more. He admires your sodden folds, resting back on his haunches with a proud smirk. 

Your foot playfully nudges along the tattoos of his thighs, both of you panting and sweaty on the sheets, in a warm daze from the ecstasy still coursing through your veins. Jungkook looks down at you with a lovestruck smile. “I love you,” he repeats, needing to say it out of the throes of pleasure, to confirm it wasn’t something he imagined.

“I love you more,” you reply, squealing as he lunges towards you in favor of attacking your face with kisses, wet and sloppy, his large hands cupping your face and smothering you with love. You don’t fight it, letting yourself bask in it, in the soft laughter that spills from his mouth, the warm embrace around you as he pulls you close to him, flipping you over until you’re nuzzled by his side.

For the first time in months you’re no longer on borrowed time, being able to enjoy Jungkook's company longer than a few hours at a time and it makes you smile, snuggling into his chest so cutely he looks down at you. 

“What?”

“Just thinking that I get to sleep with you for the first time tonight,” you whisper it out, almost like you’re embarrassed at admitting it, but he feels the same, his arm tightening around you with a soft sigh.

“Mm, yeah, we get to wake up together too.” He enjoys the smile on your face at his words, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple now. “Why are you thinking about sleep though, I told you I wanted to take my time with you tonight.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, your body still thrumming from the three orgasms you had, knowing you couldn’t do another this soon. “Jungkook, I can’t.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” he jokes, hands tightening around your hips and laughing as you try to wiggle yourself out of his grasp, his competitive streak making him determined to have you falling apart if it’s the last thing he does and from the look on his face you can already tell it’s going to be a long night.

“Put the fucking hat on!” Taehyung scolds Soobin from beside him, thrusting the fuzzy Santa hat at the younger boy with a threatening glare. Soobin knows he doesn’t mean any harm, the small smile on his face showing his true intentions so he accepts, huffing dramatically as he puts it on, adjusting it just right until Taehyung is smiling in appreciation.

You watch from the sidelines, a smile on your face as you see the families gathered at the front of the clubhouse. Deep Six was hosting their annual toy drive for Christmas, something that may seem a little bizarre with all things considered but it was something that Seokjin stood strongly behind, wanting to do something for the children of the community.

Soobin and Taehyung stood at the front lines, full tombstone patches on their leather jackets and obnoxious Santa hats on their heads in order to appeal to the children. It seems to be working, kids not shying away as they crouch down to speak to them with smiles on their faces.

“So, when are you two popping one out?” Jimin speaks from beside you, a knowing smirk on his face when you and Jungkook both whip your head to look at him so fast he swears you must have gotten whiplash.

“Woah woah, let us enjoy our time together as a duo before you come over here manifesting a child.” Jungkook huffs jokingly, slinging an arm around you and pulling you into his side. 

Jimin pouts, dramatic like always. “Sorry, I just wanna be an uncle dammit!”

Hoseok walks out just in time to hear the end of his sentence and a scowl is immediately on his face. “Fuck you, you’re already an uncle,” he grumbles, his ten month old daughter hiked on his hip, the cutest pigtails on her head with a baby leather vest on, the words baby six embroidered onto it. 

Jimin spins around instantly, cooing at baby Yeona with his arms outstretched, a smile on his face when she reaches out for him. Hoseok's wife shakes her head in disbelief as Yeona allows herself to be scooped out of her fathers arms way too easily. “Of course I am, I love my little niece.”

Jungkook sighs beside you at the interaction, looking down at you to see you’re already staring at him. “Do you want kids?”

It takes you a second to think about it, nodding as you smile at him. “Yeah eventually, do you?”

“Yeah, when the time is right.” He smiles back, eyes locking onto Yeona and Jimin now dancing around the lot while she giggles, showing the dimples on her soft cheeks.

You hum in agreement, also looking at the families lingering in the clubhouse before spotting the plethora of bikes lined against the back wall. “I don’t think I'm ready to give up riding on a bike just yet.”

That sobers Jungkook up in a flash, his hands coming up in surrender. “Hold up, who said anything about giving up riding bikes?”

“Jungkook, if we have a baby we need an actual car, for a car seat?”

He scoffs, waving his arm around. “Nonsense, we can just get one of those sidecar attachments.”

You pause for a minute, letting the gears turn in his head and hoping he would come to his senses, but when he says nothing you press your lips together. “Guk, our baby can’t ride in a sidecar, I'm pretty sure that's illegal and also immoral.” 

“Fine,” he sighs, “what about a dog?”

“You want a dog?”

“I want four.”

“You want four?” you laugh, not knowing where this was coming from at all. He had grown an obsession with checking the local dog shelters late at night and showing you the available puppies with tears in his eyes but he had never mentioned anything about adopting one.

“Yeah, do the math. I can double strap, have one on my chest and the other on my back right?” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “And you can ride your bike and double strap the other two, just picture them with their little goggles and helmets.” He coos so sweetly, lips pouting out at the thought of it, already picturing the two of you cruising around with dogs strapped on like fucking backpacks.

You can’t help but smile at your boyfriend, cupping his cheeks as you kiss him gently. “You’re fucking crazy,” he kisses back with his own smile. “One dog.”

“Deal.” He agrees without putting up a fight, the call of his name grabbing his attention, pulling away from you to go help Yoongi and Namjoon as they pull the full boxes of donations away. 

You watch him with those same lovesick eyes you always had, seeing when he goes back to the front and speaks to the children out there, allowing them to trace the patches on his arms with a wide smile on his face, animatedly telling them stories that make them giggle. 

Maybe four dogs and a baby wasn’t such a bad idea if it was with him.

[sass-and-suspenders]

Inquiry

GIF from plutoandpersephone

Pairing: Dr. Frederick Chilton x Reader

Author’s Note: In vain I have struggled …with the formatting of this story. Did I use html? Yes. Does it show up correctly when I preview it? Yes. Will it show up correctly when it’s posted? Knowing this website, probably not. I’m posting despite the (possibly) faulty formatting because I will snap like a stale rubber band if I have to fiddle around with it for a minute longer. That said, I hope you enjoy because this was fun to write (but not to format)

Frederick Chilton’s heart was beating far too quickly for something as mundane as writing an email. Normally, he could compose a message in a matter of minutes with little concern for how the recipient would react to his autocratic demands.

This time, however, you were on the receiving end.

And Frederick deeply cared what you thought.

It would have been easier if this was for a work-related matter. As the hospital administrator, Frederick often sent you updates about policy changes or questions regarding your patients. He wrote these emails effortlessly, addressing you like any other member of his staff while ignoring how his heart fluttered whenever your name appeared in his inbox. With the small exception of inquiries about your weekend (something Frederick never did with other employees), his correspondence to you remained strictly professional.

Until now.

It had taken months, but Frederick finally worked up the nerve to ask you on a date. It was non-traditional, asking someone out via email, but Frederick considered asking over the phone or in-person too risky; the chance of rejection was already high, he didn’t need to add to it by stumbling over his words or blushing in your presence like an imbecile. An email allowed Frederick time to organize his thoughts and select the right words to convey just how much you meant to him.

Writing may have been the safest medium, but it wasn’t the fastest. Fifteen minutes had elapsed and Frederick was still struggling with the salutation: ‘My dearest’ seemed too intimate, ‘Good afternoon’ too formal, ‘Ciao’ too pretentious, ‘Ahoy’ too …nautical.

Frederick fiddled with his pen and leaned back in his chair, refusing to acknowledge that he was out of his depth. His love life was preternaturally dormant, yes, but he was a man of science, not to mention a patron of the arts -he could write a simple email. He was just overthinking it, attaching too much significance to every word as if selecting the wrong one would result in rejection.

Sighing, Frederick left his desk to fetch some alcohol, a time-honoured cure for writer’s block. As he poured the amber liquid from the decanter, Frederick reassured himself of his literary prowess: he’d written a myriad of scientific articles, many of which won awards, and there was growing interest in a manuscript he was working on about the Chesapeake Ripper.

He sat back down at his desk with bolstered confidence and a glass of brandy. The opening still eluded him but, rather than dwell on it further, Frederick used a placeholder and began to work on the body of the email.

As he wrote, Frederick likened himself to a suitor in a Jane Austen novel confessing his fervent desire to his beloved. He only hoped that his prose would convince you to give him a chance since, considering the weather in Baltimore, he wouldn’t be strutting out of a lake anytime soon.

Inspired by this little reverie, Frederick soon finished. He took another sip of brandy before looking over what he had written.

To:

From: frederick.chilton@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Inquiry

[Insert salutation]

Ever since we met, I have ardently admired you. Your warmth, beauty, and quick wit are just some of the ways you brighten my day whenever I am graced with your presence. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner?

I await your reply with hopeful anticipation.

Yours,

Frederick

Satisfied, Frederick turned his attention to the greeting, lightly tapping his pen against his lips as he thought. It took a few moments, but Frederick finally settled on ‘Dear’, a classic opening. After switching out the salutation placeholder for ‘Dear’ followed by your name, Frederick read over the email one last time. He took a large drink of brandy before selecting your email address and pressing send.

Contrary to his belief, the beating in his chest didn’t slow once the email was dispatched. What if you rejected him? How would he bear to see you at work every day? Worse, what if you never responded, leaving him to perpetually wonder whether it was a silent rejection or a lost email?

The familiar ping of an email notification snapped Frederick out of his self-made purgatory. He took a few deep breaths, a half-hearted attempt to quell his rapid heartbeat, as he wondered whether it was a good sign that you responded so quickly. His eyes flicked to his inbox: there, sitting atop of messages from psychiatry journals and irksome colleagues, was a reply.

Only it wasn’t from you.

Frederick’s brow furrowed. Why was a nurse replying to the email he sent you? It didn’t take long after opening the email to realize his mistake: choosing the hospital’s listserv rather than your email address, effectively sending out his declaration of love to the entire hospital. He let out an almost inaudible whimper, knowing it was too late to retract the message.

Apparently, he could control the content of the message, but not its audience.

To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: angela.ramirez@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Inquiry

Ask them out in-person, you insecure little weenie!

Frederick hastily deleted the email, but two more popped up in its place like some sort of electronic hydra. It didn't take long for the wolves to respond, and Frederick could only stare at the screen in horror as the replies began pouring in. He swore he could hear laughter in the hallway and began debating whether he should move out of the country or just the state. Depending on how widespread knowledge of his blunder became it may even be wise to leave the continent. Vienna was supposed to be nice this time of year.

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: phillipa.canter@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Inquiry

Girl, you can do better!

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: jackson.doyle@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: valentine.anderson@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Please remove me from this list. Thanks

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: kevin.fishburne@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

EVERYONE STOP REPLYING ALL!

 Sent from my iPhone

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: gillian.coverly@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

‘Ardently’? Who does Chilton think he is, Mr. Darcy?

 Gillian Coverly, M.D.

Psychiatry Resident, BSHCI

gillian.coverly@bshci.com

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: jonas.dhavernas@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

More like Mr. Collins, am I right? LOL

 Jonas Dhavernas

Security Services | 555-3193 ext. 0315

Frederick harrumphed (he was definitely not a Mr. Collins) and made a mental note to schedule those two for the night shift for the foreseeable future. However, his indignation quickly gave way to woe as he continued to scroll through the other emails in his inbox.

To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: luis.torres@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

lol desperate much

 Luis Torres, PhD

Director of Forensic Psychiatry

(Tel.) 555-3193 ext. 0583 | (Cell) 555-2391 | (Fax) 555-8942

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: hettienne.moreno@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ralph.chlumsky@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

I’d like to remind everyone that this listserv is for work-related emails only.

Please be professional.

 Ralph Chlumsky, Patient Care Manager

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: kevin.fishburne@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

SERIOUSLY STOP SENDING EMAILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Sent from my iPhone

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: bryan.dancy@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: judith.mulrooney@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

As a member of HR, I would like to remind you that you are not obligated to say yes to a date just because Dr. Chilton is your superior.

Please let me know if you would like to file a complaint against him for harassment

Sincerely,

 Judith Mulrooney

Senior Human Resources Manager

(Tel.) 555-3193 ext. 3598

 Nothing is impossible. The word itself says ‘I’M POSSIBLE!’ – Audrey Hepburn

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com  

From: it.admin@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Can everyone please stop replying all? Our servers can’t handle the load and might crash if this continues.

Thanks,

Your friendly neighborhood IT Department

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: dennis.abrams@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: alfredo.rohl@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 Hi, can anyone give me a lift to work tomorrow? I’m in Federal Hill

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ellen.ostrowski @bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Everyone please stop replying all! It’s not that hard, and IT said our server will crash if we keep on doing it!

 Warmest regards,

 Ellen Ostrowski

Administrative Assistant for Dr. Bryan Dancy

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: shawna.neill@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Ellen, your “everyone stop replying all message” was also a reply all!

Ugh, I work with IDIOTS!

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ellen.ostrowski@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Don’t get all high and mighty with me, Shawna, you also used reply all! Frankly, your use of reply all when the server is unstable is just what I’d expect from a lunch thief.

Warmest regards,

 Ellen Ostrowski

Administrative Assistant for Dr. Bryan Dancy

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: shawna.neill@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

FOR THE LAST TIME I DID NOT STEAL YOUR LUNCH!

 A groan escaped Frederick’s lips. How could this have happened? He wasn’t a tech genius, but he kept au courant with the latest gadgets and even implemented smart technology throughout his house. Of course, there had been small mishaps in the past, like when his iPhone autocorrected his last name to ‘Chicken’ and he couldn’t stop it, but nothing of this magnitude. As much as he wanted to blame his snarky colleagues for his misery, he had only himself to blame.

His iPhone was right: he was a chicken.

Frederick was in the middle of researching jobs in Austria, the dramatic part of his brain having overpowered the rational part, when your name appeared in his inbox. His eyes flicked to the now empty glass of brandy on his right before clicking on your reply.

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

I would love to, Frederick. How about Friday?

-Your Elizabeth Bennet

P.S. Judith, no need to get HR involved

Frederick blinked, not quite believing it. Despite his cowardice, and the mortification which ensued, you’d said yes. A smile slowly spread across his face, unaffected by the multitude of emails flooding his inbox in reaction to your answer.

He was still smiling when the hospital’s servers crashed a few moments later.

Tag list: @madpanda75​ @obsessionprofessional​ @madkingcrowley​ @im-like-reallythirsty​ @burningg-red​ @nikkijmorgan​ @misssirenlove​ @zoeykaytesmom​ @mommakat32​ @thatesqcrush​ @southern-magnolia​ @evee87​

[utilitycaster]

Skill Proficiencies are the Bedrock on Which the Success of a D&D Party Rests, Monks are  a Utility Class, and Other Correct Opinions

This came up when I was thinking about the Cobalt Soul subclass and the discussion thereof, especially the dismissive way in which people sometimes treat the mystical erudition feature. I am also a bard player, in my longest-running game, and I prefer utility classes in general, so I decided to write a whole essay that maybe like 5 people will appreciate, two of whom are in my inbox (thanks for the encouragement, @ayzenigma and @agigabyte and one of whom is me.

In D&D, on a fundamental level, this is what happens:

A DM describes the world

You decide to interact with the world in some way

The DM decides if you automatically can do what you want, if you automatically can’t do what you want, or if there are a range of possible outcomes. If the last option, roll a d20.

The DM narrates what happens when you act or fail to act, ie, describes the new state of the world; the cycle begins anew.

The vast majority of those d20 rolls will be skill checks. Some will be combat rolls, which are a whole other thing, but most will be skill checks. Some will be incredibly important skill checks. Some will be relatively minor. Sometimes you’ll be aware of how important the roll is; sometimes you will not. Spells can sometimes guarantee or improve the chances of a success, as can some class abilities; but those are finite resources, and in the end a lot of D&D is resource management, and many of the choices you make in interaction are going to be influenced by what resources you have left.

Consider: the party comes upon a door with a single lock. The party is D&D four-person-party classic: a mage archetype, a thief archetype, a healer archetype, and a strength-based battler archetype.

The mage can cast knock to open the door. This does guarantee success, but it’s extremely loud and will not only alert anyone nearby but also uses a second level spell slot. They may be able to get around this if they or the healer also casts silence, depending on how you play it*, but that’s either another spell slot gone, or ten minutes wasted.

The battler can, for free, either kick down the door or attack it. This is also going to be very loud unless silence is employed, they might choose to use a finite resource (a once a day weapon ability, a rage) and even if this itself doesn’t alert anyone on its own, the big hole where a door should have been, or even the smashed keyhole, probably will.

The thief can, for free, pick the lock. Assuming they are specifically a rogue, because of their class build there is a very high chance of success, and specifically a high chance of quick, quiet, secret success even without additional help. And if they fail, well, the other options still exist and only a small amount of time has been lost.

Things like a single rage, or a second level spell slot, don’t seem like much on their own, but that is the other thing about D&D: usually you go to bed with some things left in the tank, but occasionally you do not, and as the resources get into the red line it is not terribly difficult to get into a death spiral of throwing your limited resources at a problem too large to be solved by them. When you’re in a game where, mechanically, there is no difference between having 100 hit points left and having 1 hit point left, but there is a vast chasm between having 1 left and having none, that extra second level slot worth of healing or damage can mean everything.

Or: at levels 5 through 8, with a cleric, the difference between an ally’s life and potentially permanent death is whether the cleric is left standing with one third level spell slot at the end of a battle.

This isn’t to say you shouldn’t use spell slots to achieve things, especially if they’re important; just that there’s a balance, and sometimes a single good thieves’ tools check, investigation check, or persuasion check makes just as much of a difference in terms of the party’s success as a high level spell, even though it’s far less flashy.

The game designers realize this. Older versions had the idea of taking ten: if time is not of the essence and there is no significant penalty for failure, you could take ten and guarantee an average job (which does still require some skill proficiency to take that assumed roll of ten to “pretty good”). This still remains in 5e in the form of passive checks. It’s a core element of the rogue and bard classes that they are people who are highly skilled - both have more skills than most classes and access to expertise, which significantly increases their proficiency bonuses and therefore reduces the chance of failure - and both have additional class features that either improve the breadth (jack of all trades for bards granting them partial proficiency in everything) or depth (reliable talent for rogues granting them a guaranteed average job) of those skills. Frequently, and especially for bards, this is not seen as a significant help, possibly because it rarely comes up in combat. This is wrong.

Here’s the thing: combat takes a long time at the table but in terms of what the party is doing, two minutes of combat a day (20 rounds, total) would be considered an incredibly difficult day. The rest of the time, you’re not in combat.

Here’s the other thing: how did that combat happen? Did it happen because someone failed a check - that a better stealth roll or deception check, perhaps made by someone with expertise in one of those two areas, could have prevented? Or if this conflict was inevitable or necessary, was the party able to use that stealth or deception to get a surprise round? Investigation, nature, arcana, or history to know a little bit more in advance about what they’re about to face? Perception or survival to even find the enemy they need to stop? Persuasion to gain an ally? All of these can make the difference between a success and a failure.

When you come to the end of a long-running D&D game, you will probably think back a lot to combat moments and RP moments, and unless it was one of those few clutch ability checks where you knew how momentous it was at the time you probably won’t think back to the dozens of locks picked without issue, or social encounters navigated with relative ease, but they’re going to be there, and you would have felt the strain without them.

This isn’t limited to skill checks, honestly; it’s a problem with almost all so-called fluff/flavor abilities. It’s interesting, in that the words we use to describe a well-built character are themselves quite neutral in terms of the specific build (min-maxed, optimized) but in practice many people assume these fit into one of two categories: the tank, or the glass cannon. Of course, those are combat-specific abilities, and see above with regards to combat. And maybe you are in a D&D game that is very much about combat and combat only, but if you’re not, that so-called fluff is far too dismissive of utility.

And monks, in particular, are more of a utility class than one would expect. Sure, they get a lot of attacks and they’re sort of tanks of the ‘too fast to hit’ variety and they can stun, but monks are utility in a negative-space sort of way.They don’t need your buffs, and a monk in your party, like a rogue who can pick locks or a bard who can talk their way out of trouble, saves your resources. They are incredibly fast, and don’t need longstrider or jump cast on them. They don’t need feather fall or fly because they run up walls and avoid falling damage. They don’t need to be healed, if they just catch the arrows that were shot and evade the area of effect spell; they don’t need a magic weapon (or any weapon); they don’t need a restoration to end effects, they don’t need protection from poison or disease, they save you the need to cast comprehend languages or tongues, they’re less likely to need a buff to help them save against other effects, eventually they don’t even need food or water. A monk, like a skill check, helps the party by saving finite resources. The Cobalt Soul build merely makes it a little more literal by granting the monk themselves the ability to make those skill checks.

In conclusion: skill checks are cantrips that everyone gets, and if a class got 8 cantrips when most others got 4, and they had an extra bonus to hit, you’d absolutely notice.

*per a quick search it’s up for debate based on the ranges of the respective spells and whether the lock needs to ‘hear’ the spell or not and anyway if this is what you choose to fixate on in this essay I cannot stress this enough: you have the reading comprehension of a slime mold and the sense of relevance of a Republican congressperson.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Everything I Wanted (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2,700 + Warning: Adult language, adult situations Premise: After all this time, her social media posts have a way of captivating him...until he turns the tables on her.  Part 3 of Lovely and Ocean Eyes.

________________ Ethan walked down the corridor on a seemingly normal workday, far too aware that his steps were lighter and the smile he fought so hard to conceal made its appearance more often than not. For the sake of his reputation, he schooled his features into his usual unwelcoming and severe expression, though part of him worried that he was fooling exactly no one. 

Perhaps his face betrayed the way his pulse picked up pleasantly at the memory of the shy smile she offered him every time they crossed paths. The simple gesture was enough to brighten his mood, no matter how stressful his day. Somewhere down the line, Ethan had surrendered to the effortless way Dr. Lilac Allende drove him to distraction.  

His good mood quickly soured, however, when he walked past the locker room on the third floor. Typically, he studiously blocked out all the mindless conversations that drifted out into the hall, but a particular name caught his ear.

“Damn,” a tall, burly intern was saying as he glanced at his phone. “I knew Dr. Allende was hot but.. just wow.”

His friend closed the locker door and walked over to glance at the screen, nodding in approval. “What's her deal? She single?” 

The first intern scoffed, almost derisively. “Thinking of asking her out, Reyes?” 

Reyes looked unabashed, maintaining an easy grin that was almost arrogant. It made Ethan want to punch it right off his face. “Can't blame a guy for trying.”

“Is she still with Lahela? They were a thing a while back, I think?” 

Ethan had the mad urge to step in and correct the false statement, but he abstained. The two morons before him had no right to Lilac's personal life. 

Reyes stared at the phone screen again and gave a low whistle. “Her Pictagram is a work of art. The things I'd do–” 

“The things you're going to do, Dr. Reyes, are your actual job duties,” Ethan said through girt teeth, stepping into the room. 

Perhaps it was his sudden appearance or the downright murderous glare the older doctor was sending their way, but the pair of interns fumbled, the first one almost dropping the phone. By the time they straightened up to face Ethan, they looked far too rigid, uncomfortable, and downright terrified. The verbal lashing he unleashed on them was one for the books. In the end, there was no trace of arrogant smirks as both interns walked away, pale and with the extra workload Ethan assigned. 

Finally alone, he exhaled a sharp, steadying breath. At least there were a few guarantees in life, even if things had changed: he could still reduce grown men to tears and these damn interns were going to drive him to an early grave. 

Considerably calmer, Ethan produced his phone from his pocket and opened the too familiar Pictagram page. One glance at her latest picture and the two idiots' reactions made sense, even if they were still not justified.

Fucking hell. 

Just like his moronic predecessors, Ethan almost dropped his phone, stifling a cough. Any trace of gentlemanly thoughts vanished as his eyes took in her bare shoulder, exposed so intentionally and coyly. All he could think about was running his lips along the curve of it, his fingers slowly tugging the black robe lower until it pooled on his floor. 

Before his primal mind could add his teeth and the moans she'd reward him with to this fantasy, his eyes fell on the caption. 

Stay? 

Ethan could hardly fight back the grin the single word inspired. The previous morning, as she had stopped by his office to use his coffee machine, he pointed out how useless Pictagram was. Lilac was quick to remind him that he seemed to be enjoying it, referencing the reaction he'd had to her previous posts. Determined to save face, Ethan had blurted that he might even delete his account.

A smug smile over her shoulder had been her reply along with a sultry promise. “I bet I can make you change your mind.”

She had accomplished just that along with taking root in his every thought. The need to see her became so acute, that he sought her out in every hallway he turned into. Finally, he found her in one of the break rooms, laughing and chatting with her intern, Dr. Ortega. 

 “This coffee machine is the worst,” he heard Ortega complain. She rattled the cup as though the action would force it to hurry. “I can't believe I'm going to be late because of shit coffee.”

Lilac laughed. “Shit coffee is better than no coffee.” 

“Spoken like someone who has a mysterious coffee source.” 

With another laugh, Lilac mimed zipping her lips shut. Dr. Ortega snorted with laughter, which was a rare enough sight. 

“At least rounds are not with Dr. Ramsey this morning,” Ortega continued as she sniffed disapprovingly at her cup. “I'd be dead meat for being even two minutes behind.”

“And that's considering the guy's mellowed out in the past few months,” a nurse chimed in from his place at the loveseat. “He was far grumpier before. Something or someone is putting that man in a good mood every night.”

Ethan felt his neck flare up, his eyes solely on Lilac, looking as lovely as ever and utterly unfazed. 

“That poor soul,” Lilac commented so convincingly, Ethan almost believed it. “Whoever that is.”

The nurse had no reaction, invested in his newspaper as he was and Ortega threw a hesitant smile at Lilac. 

“I always kind of thought you two had a thing,” she confessed. 

Lilac did not even react, taking a sip of her to-go cup. “Because I'm his so-called favorite?” When Esme nodded, Lilac shrugged. “Being on his radar comes with its cons.”

At this, Ortega nodded solemnly. “Yeah, he's harder on you, for sure.”

That was his cue. With absolutely no preamble, he marched into the breakroom, startling the three occupants with his mere presence. 

“Allende, if you are done with your morning gossip session, I'd appreciate you getting me those labs I asked for.”

Lilac pushed herself off the counter at once. “Yes, doctor.” 

They stared at one another, neither betraying a single emotion. 

“Now. It's not like lives depend on it or anything.”

Ortega shot Lilac a sympathetic look, no doubt reconsidering her previous thoughts of their involvement. Without another word, Lilac followed Ethan out of the break room. Once they were alone in a deserted hallway, Lilac raised a brow at him. 

“You didn't ask for any labs,” she said at the same time Ethan blurted out, “'That poor soul'?”

Lilac laughed and he joined her with a chuckle soon after, their bodies comfortably gravitating closer to each other. His hands throbbed with the raw, poignant need to touch her and the blinding disappointment of being unable to. The way Ethan longingly looked at her then, drinking in every one of her beautiful features, he imagined he looked like some yearning nineteenth century gentleman straight out of an Austen novel. 

“Mine was more believable,” she pointed out, that witty, playful challenge in her eyes. An Elizabeth Bennet to his hopeless and bewitched Darcy. 

“Not remotely,” he returned without missing a beat. “No one would deem the person having sex with me every night as 'poor.'”

“They would when said person could barely walk the next day.”

That made Ethan pause, the bravado slipping as his eyes fell on her rosy lips. His breath caught audibly at his throat. 

They were standing so close together now, eyes locked on each other with palpable magnetism. If anyone walked by they would be found out without a doubt. Even more so if Ethan gave into the burning urge to kiss her right there and then. 

Lilac gave him a coquettish smirk. “Did you like my post?” 

Ethan found his voice again. “It was…”

There was no appropriate word to describe the delicious, sinful perfection of it. 

“Nice?” she teased. 

“Dr. Reyes and his idiot friend definitely thought so.”

Lilac snorted. “That explains the DM that sits unopened in my inbox. Jealous?” 

“Not even a little bit.”

“Good. They're not the ones who have me in their bed every night.” 

Ethan almost stuttered like an imbecile. He fought back all indecent thoughts and returned, “You forget I have you against multiple different surfaces, Rookie.”

She paused briefly, eyes dark as they traveled down his body and back to his eyes again.

Fuck, she had him. He knew the look too well. 

“Or against no surface at all, as you proved on your birthday.” 

Ethan cursed. 

Everything in her expression suggested that she fancied herself the victor of their Pictagram debate. Matching her smug smirk with a dashing smile of his own, he decided then to give her a taste of her own medicine.

________________________

Ethan, ever the prophet, had predicted the board meeting they were both required to attend would be pointless. 

He had been right, of course. They both sat in the boardroom forty minutes into it, listening to Dr. Cyrus drone on endlessly about something that had little to do with patient care. Listening was a generous term because Lilac remained focused on her laptop, diligently updating patient files. Ethan, sitting across from her, was doing much of the same, the glare of his screen reflecting on his glasses. 

Soon, the buzzing of her phone on the table pulled her away from her concentration. Her heart leaped when she saw it was a notification alerting to his latest Pictagram post. Confused, Lilac glanced up at him but he was too invested in his work to notice. 

After ensuring no one was paying her any mind, she opened the app and regretted it at once. 

One quick glance at artfully sculpted muscles and Lilac was reduced to a coughing mess. Dr. Cyrus stopped mid sentence to glare at her. Everyone else in the room followed suit to stare. 

“Dr. Allende, are you alright?” Naveen asked with concern. 

Ethan wordlessly handed her a bottle of water, his lips quirking ever so slightly, his fingers brushing hers. After a quick sip, she mumbled, “I'm fine. Sorry.”

Convinced, they resumed the meeting. 

Lilac, meanwhile, attempted to catch Ethan's eye to throw him a glare, but he remained laser focused on his screen. Having no other alternative, she returned her attention to the picture. Soon, she was texting him. 

Your one follower approves. 

Her phone dinged almost immediately after with his reply. Her pulse spiked with excitement, which was ridiculous because she slept with the man every day. 

I am aware. We all saw. 

Cheeky bastard. 

That was a low blow, Ramsey. And with a picture I took too. 

He almost smiled when he read that. 

Pay attention, Rookie. 

She bit her lip, glancing up at him. Ethan was the perfect picture of professionalism, his stoic expression betraying nothing as he worked. Her eyes returned to the picture, her cheeks flushing. 

Oh, I am. 

To the meeting. 

Oh. Dr. Cyrus has my undivided but unwilling attention. 

Liar, he returned at once. For a man who claimed to hate texting, he was a master at sending them without anyone's notice. 

I can tell because you actually look interested in what you're doing. 

Lilac almost laughed out loud at that. She quickly turned her head away from the front of the table to avoid suspicion. 

I am studiously taking notes. 

Unless you're jotting down all of Cyrus's brown-nosing remarks to Naveen, I highly doubt that. 

This time, a small squeak of laughter escaped her. Luckily for her, she was able to mask it perfectly with a dainty cough. No one at the table gave her a second glance, except for Ethan. Handsome as ever, his mouth quirked ever so slightly. 

I don't need to take notes on that, she replied. I already know how to get on my boss's good side. 

She watched as Ethan imperceptibly read her text, having no visible reaction. 

Time to go in for the kill. 

And the best side to get on is under him. 

This time, it was Ethan who sputtered slightly and coughed. A furious blush started to color his neck and ears in a way that was entirely too satisfying. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't finished yet. 

Although he actually enjoys me on top of him too. 

Those piercing blue eyes found hers instantly, so dark and smoldering that she was struck motionless for a second. A familiar, molten heat pooled in her belly as Ethan's lustful gaze remained on her, unwavering. The longer they stared at each other, magnetized, the more evident it became that he would take her right there and then if it weren't for the company surrounding them. 

When the meeting was adjourned for a break twenty minutes later, Lilac was assured that her texts had the intended effect. The tall, hard body of her boyfriend pressed hers flush against the door of his office the second it closed. A second after that, his full lips hungrily kissed her neck, his powerful hands gripping handfuls of her hips. 

“You're determined to kill me,” he muttered darkly against her skin. 

“But what a way to go,” she said in a whisper that gave way to a moan at the last word. 

He agreed in the form of a husky groan that resonated deliciously against her throat. With almost lazy effort, he turned her body to face the door, strong hands guiding her backside to press urgently against him. 

“The way you tease me, Lilac,” he whispered hotly in her ear, sending a powerful shiver through her. His hips began guiding her toward the nearest table with ease, his fingers slowly skimming their way up her thighs and under her skirt. 

“You like it,” she challenged breathlessly. 

Ethan hummed against her shoulder, pulling her blouse down in a perfect rendition of her post. 

“It's torture.” Another searing kiss. “Seeing the way you look at me and not being able to take you against the nearest wall.”

Lilac had a witty response ready, but at that exact moment, his thumbs hooked around the lacy fabric of her underwear. 

“Are these for me?” His voice was nothing more than gravel. Lilac's legs quivered, every sense proudly dominated by him. 

“Yes,” she moaned, eyes fluttering closed in a heady rush. He had her bent over the table, her skirt bunching to indecent heights around her thighs. 

Without another word, he removed the garment skillfully, sliding it slowly down her legs and bunching it in his fist. Lilac pressed herself further against him, aching painfully for him. 

“Use them to tie me up,” she suggested in a ragged whisper. 

Ethan cursed. 

His hips jerked against hers, sliding the thick, hard column of his body against her. Lilac was so overcome with maddening need that her arms almost gave out from balancing her on the table. 

She never found out if Ethan was delirious enough to take her whispered advice because both of their pagers went off with infuriating insistence.

 “The meeting from hell that never ends,” he groaned. “Break is over.”

Lilac straightened against his chest, smirking when he made no movement to let her go. “To be continued?” 

Ethan leaned in to kiss her neck. “Your bed or mine?” 

Lilac swiveled in his hold, facing him with a smile that made her cheeks hurt. “Doesn't matter as long as it's you next to me.”

He matched her smile with an unfairly charming one of his own. 

Though they were needed at the Board meeting, they stole another minute together in each other's arms. Lilac studied his handsome face briefly, feeling her heart restart as it often did when she realized he was finally hers. Perhaps he was hers in secret for the time being but he was hers nonetheless. The thought that after all the strife and hardship, she still found herself where she belonged, in his arms, made her smile grow wider. 

“What?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

“I love you,” she told him, not for the first time. 

It was his turn to give her a smile so incandescent that it stole her breath. “That's a relief,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Given that I am madly and desperately in love with you, Rookie.”

_____________

Author’s Note: Are we okay after those two new OH chapters?

I’m not! I have some ideas for future fics but we’ll see if the writing gods are in my favor. 

Thank you for reading this senselessness. I love you for it.

-Bree

_______________

Please let me know if I need to add/remove you. You might have asked me already but I can barely keep track of my life atm. Sorry!

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[atlafan]

Hii ok u dont have to write this if it doesnt inspire u but I’ve been watching Selling Sunset on Netflix & I’ve been waiting impatiently for the 3rd season cuz it’s just so good lol but i was wondering if u could write something about rich real estate agent H? Maybe helping the MC buy her first home and they hit it off? Ur the only 1 who writes these diverse Harry’s & I can’t stop thinking about real estate H showing her expensive houses & like doing NaughtyStuff with her in an empty 1 lol xx HC

a/n: this has been in my inbox for a while and I’ve been wanting to get to it, so here it is! there is smut, but it’s more tame than you requested. Hope you still like it! 

Sold

You weren’t sure how you were able to do it, but you finally had enough money for a down payment on a home. You scrimped and saved for years as best you could, you paid off the majority of your student loans, you built up your credit, and now you felt ready for this very adult step. 

Your parents weren’t sure why you weren’t content with just renting. “What if you meet someone?” They’d ask you. “Then they could just move in with me, or we’d find another place. It’s an investment!” You’d reply. They had this vision in their head that you’re supposed to buy a home with a partner. It was the twenty-first century, you didn’t need anyone to help you...or so you thought. 

The pre-approval process at the bank was lengthy, but thorough. They’d need to see your W2′s from two years prior, they needed to know how long you’ve been at your current job, and basically just how much money you had altogether. The mortgage specialist at the bank was very kind. 

“So, you’re doing this all on your own?” 

“I am.” You smile.

“Have you got real estate agent yet?”

“No.” You shrug. “You don’t really need when you’re the one buying do you? I can just call whoever’s showing the house and work with them.”

“Maybe in small towns, but in larger areas like this you’ll want a realtor, trust me. It doesn’t cost you anything either way. They can top shop, help you negotiate, all those kinds of things.”

“They also like to show you houses out of your price range.” You scoff. 

“Not the honest ones. I get it, at the end of the day, they’re out there to make a quick buck, and the more the house is, the larger the cut they get. But I know a guy, he actually helped my son buy his first home. He was absolutely wonderful, and he’s a shark.” She goes through the many business cards on her desk. “Ah! Here it is, Harry Styles, he works for Greenfield Real Estate.” 

You take the card from her and scan it over.

“Don’t they sell, like, really nice homes? They work with people looking for mansions.” 

“Just give him a call, and tell him I sent you. You won’t regret it, trust me. Your pre-approval is only good for ninety days, so you’ll want to contact him soon.” 

//

Your head was swimming, but you knew she had a point. Half the houses you favorited on realtor.com or zillow were sold already. It was a seller’s market for sure. Maybe you would need someone to help you negotiate...but did it have to be a man? Couldn’t you find a female realtor? You spent years becoming the strong, independent woman you came to be, and now it felt like you’d be surrendering to some stereotype. 

However, after perusing on the Greenfield website, you see a picture of Harry. You bite your bottom lip, swallow some pride, and dial his number. 

“Greenfield Real Estate, this is Harry.” You weren’t expecting the British accent, or the deep voice and drawl that came with it. “Hello?”

“Um, hi! Yeah, Doris at Hills Bank gave me your card...I’m a first time home buyer.” You want to smack yourself for how stupid you sound. 

“Oh, I love Doris! I’ve worked with her a bunch. I actually helped her son buy his first home last year.”

“That’s what she told me.” 

“Right, so, picking a realtor is sort of like dating, you wanna make sure you pick the right one. Why don’t we meet up for coffee somewhere locally so we can get to know each other a bit.” 

Pushy, he was already wanting to meet you. Probably to have you sign your life away to be his client. 

“Sure, we could do that.”

“Are you local? There’s a place on Bleaker Street that has great coffee.” 

“Is it Monte Alto?”

“Yeah! That’s the one. When are you free?”

“I could meet you Friday during lunch my break.”

“Sounds great, I’m assuming noon?”

“Correct.” 

“By the way, you didn’t tell me your name.”

“It’s Y/N.”

“Alright, Y/N, I’ll see you Friday at noon at Monte Alto.” 

You take a huge breath after you hang up. 

//

Friday rolled around, and you weren’t able to step out of the office until nearly 11:50. It would take a little more than ten minutes to get there, and you hated being late. You were happy you had at least looked up what Harry looked like so you’d be able to spot him once you were there. 

Once you’re there, you see a man sitting on one of the cushioned chairs, looking out the window. It had to be him. 

“Harry?” 

He looks over at you and smiles. He stands up to shake your hand.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, hi, sorry I’m late, I’ve had meeting after meeting this morning. Fridays aren’t usually this busy.”

“No worries at all. Tell me, what’s your order?” 

“Oh, I can get it myself. I’m gonna grab a bagel too.”

“Good idea, I’ll do the same. Now, what’ll you have?” 

“Really...I can-”

“I know you can, but I invited you here, it would be rude to have you pay. Do this with all my perspective clients.” 

“Well, don’t I feel special.” You say sarcastically. He chuckles softly as you both get in line. 

You both order your drinks and food, and wait awkwardly for your names to be called, then you sit back down. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re more than welcome. So, tell me, what’s your dream home?”

“Oh god, um, nice big kitchen, I love to cook when I actually have time. A room for entertaining. I’m usually the one to host friends. Two stories, a garage, three bedrooms would be ideal, but I’ll settle for two-”

“No settling.” He smirks. “Go on.” 

“Um...well, so, three bedrooms, ideally I’d like a master with an en suite, but who doesn’t?” You watch as he makes notes on a little pad of paper. “I’d like a yard, but it doesn’t need to be huge. Bonus points if there’s a deck or patio, maybe even a pool, but I can live without those things.”

“And you’re buying this just for yourself, correct? No husbands or boyfriends I need to know about?” 

“You know, I could have a girlfriend.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry you’re right, um-”

“Relax, I’m teasing.” You chuckle. “But to answer your question, I am doing this alone. I feel like I’m ready for a house, so I want one.” 

“Thought I put my foot in my mouth for a second there. I need to learn to just say partner.” He picks up his drink to take a sip, and that’s when you notice he has perfectly manicured nails. Interesting. “So it seems like you know how to be realistic about what you want, and you also have a dream list. What about projects, do they scare you?”

“I’m good with painting or even having to put new flooring in, but I’d like to stay away from any major reno.” 

“Gotcha.” He makes another note. “And what price range are we working with here?” 

“Let me just make a note on my phone, I’d rather not say out loud in case someone tries to rob me.” 

He smiles and nods. He squints at your screen and makes a note. 

“Great, good for you. What do you do for work?” 

“I’m a physician, I work at a doctor’s office not too far from here. I’ve been there for two years, and I love what I do.”

“That’s great. So, Doris talked with you about balancing a mortgage and paying down your student loans?”

“They’re mostly paid for, actually. I got a lot of scholarships for my undergrad, and during med school I was awarded a pretty decent grant.” 

“Perfect.” He scribbles some more notes and then puts his pad and pen down. “What do you want to know about me?” 

“How long have you been a realtor for?” 

“Six years, been with Greenfield since I started.”

“What made you get into it?”

“Love seeing people happy.” 

“What about when someone buys below the asking price?”

“Doesn’t happen with me, not when I’m selling anyways. However, when I’m helping someone buy a home, well, let’s just say I’m pretty good at negotiating.” He smirks. “You’d be in good hands with me, but if you wanna shop around some more I’ll understand.” 

“Do you work with first time buyers a lot?”

“Sometimes, it depends. I know a lot of them like to work with me. They’re usually young, I’m young. Makes for a more relatable experience.”

“Okay.” You look outside and think for a moment. “I think I’d like to work with you.”

He smiles big at you.

“Are there any homes you’ve had in mind that you’d like to start looking at? I can definitely see what open houses are out there too. People tend to make offers fast, but don’t let that scare you. The home has to feel right, if you want it, I’ll make sure you get it.” 

“There were a few I’ve seen on realtor...” You take your phone out to show him. “I’d like to not have a super long commute either if I can help it.” 

“Are you looking to grow into this home or is it more of a starter space for you?” You give him a funny look. “I just mean, like, would you be open to a condo or something like that.”

“Only if it was detached and didn’t have a high HOA.” 

He nods and looks at some of the other homes you had favorited.

“So what I’m gonna do is go back to my office and run a few searched. Then I’ll text you a link to the home I find, and you can tell me which ones you like. Don’t be afraid to tell me you hate them either. Then if there’s a couple you wanna see, we’ll set up a time that works for you, and then I’ll contact the other realtor, sound good?”

“Sounds great.” 

You shake hands again before leaving. As you make your way back to the office, you feel relieved. You had someone you could ask questions to, and someone basically on your side. Harry was nice, a salesman at heart, but nice.

//

Saturday morning you get a text from Harry.

Harry Styles - Hi Y/N, it was great meeting you yesterday. Here are some places I think you might like. Let me know what you think! 

You liked how formal he was. You tap the link he sent you. The first couple were duds, but there were a few on here that actually peaked your interest. 

You - Could we three of the home? The bottom three on the list. 

Harry Styles - Sure! When would work for you? 

You - I don’t work on Mondays, so that would be easiest. Timing doesn’t matter. 

Harry Styles - I’ll contact the realtors and see what we can put together. 

You - Thanks so much!

You felt really excited. You wondered if maybe you should invite your parents to come look at the houses with you, but maybe you would save that for a second look through once you actually find something. A house can look much different in pictures than it does in person. 

//

Monday morning, around 9:30, you meet Harry at the first location. His car was parked in the driveway. He gets out when he sees you pull in. He had two coffees in hand. 

“Morning.” He says to you. “Got you a coffee, I remembered your order.” 

“Oh! Um, thanks.” You take it from him. 

“I’ve already gone in and unlocked the doors and turned the lights on. The other realtor isn’t here, which is perfectly fine. Take your time, feel free to walk around outside before heading in too.” 

You smile and nod. The front was beautifully landscaped, and there was a gate leading to the backyard. He follows you out that way. You listen as he explains when the home was built and why the people were selling it. There a nice deck that had been recently put on, no pool though, but there was room for one. You go up the stairs of the deck and go in through the sliding glass door. 

“Kitchen was recently renovated within the last five years. All appliances come with the place.” 

“It’s beautiful.” You run your fingers over the nice granite counter tops. 

As you scope out the rest of the house, you’re not as impressed as you were with it when you first walked in. The bedrooms were small, and barely had any storage. The basement wasn’t in the best condition either. 

“Definitely a no, but a good first experience nonetheless.” 

Harry looks down at his watch as he nods. 

“Wanna follow me to the next place then?”

“Sure.” 

Same thing happened at house number two and three. You just weren’t wowed. You sigh heavily as you lean against your car. 

“Don’t get discouraged, Y/N. It’s better to know what you don’t like. We can keep looking. When I go into the office tomorrow I can run another search. Maybe we can look at some condos.” 

“That might be good. Maybe somewhere with people my age? It would be cool to be in a little community.”

“Definitely.” 

“Thanks...I hope I haven’t been a pain with the things I don’t like.”

“Not at all. This is a really big purchase, you should get what you want.” 

//

It took three more weeks of meeting up with Harry on various days to find a place you liked. On a Saturday evening, he brought you over to a condo that was detached, had a garage, a community gym and pool. It had three bedrooms, and two and a half baths. One being an en suite for the master bedroom.The kitchen was gorgeous and flowed into a dining/living area. You were thrilled. 

“Harry...” You look at him. “It’s perfect.” 

“Really, you like it?”

“I love it!” You squeal and hug him without thinking. “Sorry.” You blush.

“It’s fine, it’s exciting.” 

“I’d like to put an offer in. The price is rate and the HOA is reasonable. It’s not too far from work. I’d be able to entertain, the backyard is fenced in. There was even security at the gate! This is my home, I can feel it.” 

“Fantastic. The paperwork can take some time. Would you wanna fill everything out over dinner?” 

“Um...sure...” 

“Plus, it gives you a chance to see what places nearby are like. We passed some nice restaurants on the way here.” 

You follow him to a nice pizza place a couple of miles away. He bring a large packet of paper and a couple of pens in with him.

“On the way here I called the other realtor to let him know an offer was coming their way.”

“Thanks.”

You both get seated and are given some water. He takes the papers out and explains what you would need to sign, and what your offer would mean. Harry said you could definitely low ball the sellers, so you asked for about $15K less than the asking price. 

“They probably won’t accept, but most people don’t on the first offer. This just gives us a good starting point.”

“And you think the six grand in closing costs is good?”

“Yeah, totally reasonable. That’ll be about half of it. Sometimes, you can get more money off after the home inspection. Once a price is settled, you’ll want to schedule that right away. I have some names of some great home inspectors.”

“Would you be there for that?”

“I would. I’m there for all of it. The other realtor will be there too.” 

“Okay good. I’d feel better with you there.” 

As you begin to sign the documents, a waiter comes over. 

“Good evening folks, can I start you off with anything to drink?”

“I’d love a glass of rose please.” You say. 

“Just a Corona for me, thanks.” 

The waiter nods and leaves you be. 

“Did you want to just split a pizza?” Harry asks looking down at the menu. 

“Sure, what do you like? I usually just get green peppers and mushrooms.”

“Works for me. Would you mind this cauliflower crust?”

“Not at all! I prefer that, actually.” 

‘Perfect.” He smiles. 

When the waiter comes back, Harry orders your pizza. He watches as you finish up all the paperwork. He checks over everything to make sure you signed everything. 

“I’ll get this all scanned and sent over tomorrow.”

“Do you ever take a day off?”

“Yes and no. The realtor world is funny. Sometimes I’m in the office all day and then I wont hear from a client until 8PM. I’m not helping someone buy, I’m helping someone sell. I’m always busy.”

“Sorry to take up your Saturday night...”

“No, don’t be. I’d just be home working.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer. “It’s your Saturday night I’m more worried about.” 

“Oh please.” You laugh. “My friends know I’ve been busy with this, they understand. Besides when I showed them who you were...” You stop yourself from finishing the sentence. 

“No, please, go on.” He smirks.

“They just, they saw your picture on the Greenfield website, that’s all.” You blush. 

The waiter comes over with the pizza, and thankfully it breaks a bit of the tension. You each take a slice and dig in. 

“This is delicious.” You say. 

“Yeah, never been here before, I’ll definitely have to come back.” He takes another sip of his beer. “Once that condo is yours, I fully expect an invite to your house warming, by the way. I like to know my clients are good to go.”

“I definitely won’t be a stranger.” 

When you and Harry are done, he walks you out to your car. He gives you a small hug goodbye as well. You felt like you just had a date, but there was no way you did. 

//

After going back and forth twice, your offer was accepted. You set up a home inspection with one of the names Harry had given you. He meets you at the house when it’s time, and you’re able to meet the other realtor. A woman, who was a little too delighted to see Harry. You felt jealous when they hugged. However, he stayed close to you and took notes while the inspector was talking. 

You made sure to ask a lot of questions. There were no major things that alarmed you. All of the information was just a lot to take in, and you were feeling slightly overwhelmed. You should have brought your parents, or another friend. Was Harry a friend at this point? As the inspector was putting together a full report for you, and getting your email, the other realtor was talking to Harry.

“So, I thought you were only in the selling game right now.” She smirks at him.

“Once in a while I take on a buyer.” He shrugs. “It’s good commission.”

“Yeah, thanks, can’t wait to split it with you.” She rolls her eyes. “But I do love when our paths cross.”

“Mhm.” He looks over at you and then back to the realtor. “The previous owners took great care of this place.”

“Yeah, they did. The only reason they moved is because they’re daughter had a baby and they wanted to be closer to her.”

“Ah, classic.”

“Are you doing anything later?”

“Um…well…Y/N is probably going to have questions and stuff, so I’ll probably be busy with her for a bit.”

“Okay, but, like, tonight, are you free? We could grab a drink.”

“I…”

“Harry?” You say, walking over to them. “Everything’s all set. He said I should have the radon and water tests by next week.”

“Perfect. You’ll be able to make a final decision and add anything to an addendum then.”

“It was nice to meet you.” You shake the woman’s hand.

“Same to you. Look forward to hearing from you soon.”

“Y/N, I took a lot of notes, is there anything you want to go over?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“See ya Margaret, we’ll be in touch.” He shakes her hand and leaves her standing there, shocked.

Harry walks with you outside, and you agree on a bar to meet up at. You both grab drinks and Harry goes over his notes with you. He gives you the name of a good plumber since you mentioned you’d want to update a few fixtures.

“What about a painter? Know of anyone that can help with that?”

“You don’t need to waste your money on a professional. Painting’s not that hard.” He chuckles.

“Well, I am not very skilled when it comes to that kind of stuff. Plus, I won’t really have the time to do it myself, and I’d wanna get it done before I move.”

“You could get all done in a couple of weekends no problem, you just need some friends that know how to paint.” He puts a toothpick in his mouth and fiddles with it. “I know how to paint.”

“You do?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Sometimes sellers need to fix up their houses quickly. I’ve come to the rescue on more than one occasion.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“I don’t make any money if I don’t. No one wants to be an ugly house.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I guess what I’m saying is, I could help you paint. You’re about to have a mortgage payment on your hands.”

“Pending the inspection report.” You smirk.

“Right.” He smiles.

“Did you offer up the same service for Doris’ son?”

“No.” He says smugly. “He already knew how to paint.”

“That other woman before, what was her name? Margaret?”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“I heard her ask you out…”

“She didn’t, she wasn’t…uh…” He scratches the back of his neck. “Sometimes we go for drinks if we end of working on the same house. Nothing more than that really.”

“So, you’re not, like, seeing her.”

“God, no. That would be a major conflict of interest.”

“Do you always go out for drinks with your clients?”

“Sometimes…I know some people have clients over to their home to do paperwork, but I didn’t think you’d feel super comfortable coming over to some guy’s house you barely know.”

“How considerate of you.” You giggle.

“Did it bother you that she asked me out tonight?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

“What? No, why, uh, why would it have bothered me?”

“Because…if someone had done the same to you in front of me I would have been bothered, but to be fair, I’m a pretty jealous guy.” He finishes his drink and orders another one.

“How many times does this happen?”

“What?”

“You hitting on your clients.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” He fake gasps. “And no, I don’t usually do this. I’m a little embarrassed, actually. Not very professional of me to have a crush on your client.” Your eyes widen and your jaw drops slightly. “Sorry, I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable.”

“No! I…I’m just a little surprised that you’re into me, is all.”

“Why? You’ve got a great career, you’re super independent, and you’re really funny.”

“How do you not already have a girlfriend?”

“I’m really busy, like, all the time. I’m able to take vacations here and there, but you see how much I work. Any time I date it doesn’t last because people don’t understand the job. You’re a doctor, you get it. You must be busy going to classes trying to stay up to date on everything.”

“I am, I’m definitely busy a lot…but I make time for friends.”

“So do I. My friends don’t get offended if I have to cancel or reschedule, or they at least don’t take it personally.”

“I get what you’re saying…dating is hard when you have a demanding job.”

“Exactly.”

“So…are you going to ask me out?”

“Can’t, not until this is all done at least. Conflict of interest.”

“Oh.”

“But when I do, are you saying you’ll say yes?”

“I guess we’ll find out when you ask, won’t we?”

//

Harry helped you go over the inspection report once you got it. You asked for some money towards getting the furnace serviced, and the previous owners thought it was a reasonable request. You were able to close a couple of weeks later. Typically the realtor comes to the bank with the buyer on the big day.

“Harry!” Doris squeals as she hugs him. “Great to see you.”

“Same to you.”

“Love when we get to see each other like this.”

“Same here, how’s your son?”

“Oh, he’s great. Y/N, have a seat. We have lots of things to sign.”

You sign what you need to. Doris gives you a gift bag with some wine glasses. Harry hands over a bottle of champagne to you as well. It was very exciting. You were officially a home owner.

“Thank you so much.” You shake Doris’ hand before leaving the bank.

Harry grabs your wrist once you’re both outside.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks, I literally couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a quick hug. “My parents are gonna meet me there soon so they can check it out. I think they wanna take me out to eat to celebrate.”

“That’s great.” He clears his throat. “What, uh, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Continuing to pack.” You laugh. “But, um, I could make myself available in the evening.” You smile.

“I’m having a little pool party tomorrow. Bunch of my friends are coming over, I’d love to have you over too, if you felt comfortable.”

“That sounds amazing! Can I bring anything?”

“Just your beautiful self.”

//

Your parents were very impressed with your new purchase. You did well. Saturday morning you continued your packing adventure, trying to make sure you properly labeled your boxes. You needed to make sure none of your medical journals got lost.

Even though Harry had offered over and over to teach you how to paint, your parents offered to pay for a painting crew for you, just to make things go faster. Once that was done you’d be able to move. You search your dresser for a suitable bathing suit. You weren’t sure how much skin to actually show.

“Ah ha!” You find your green, strapless one-piece that had a cute cut out in the upper part of the stomach. You’re also able to find a cute cover up dress to throw on over it.

In the latter part of the afternoon, you drive over to Harry’s. You were impressed by the neighborhood he was able to live in. All of the houses were huge. When you pull up to his house you wonder what he needed such a big house for. Maybe he entertained a lot too, just like you did.

You – just pulled up!

Harry Styles - come right around back!

You walk around to where you can hear music playing and people laughing. There were plenty of people already in Harry’s large in-ground pool.

“Y/N!” Harry waves over to you.

Damn, he has a lot of tattoos. You think to yourself.

“Hi, Harry!”

He comes over to you and kisses you on the cheek without really thinking.

“Glad you could make it. Make yourself comfortable. Plenty of food, plenty of pool.” He chuckles.

Harry’s friends were really nice and welcoming, you didn’t feel too out of place. His eyes couldn’t help but scan over your body the second you took your coverup off. Turns out Harry was a master on the grill. He made sure to pay attention to while still being a good host to his friends. It was a fun party. As the night dwindled you wanted to make some sort of move.

“You know, I’ve seen your entire backyard, but I’ve yet to be given a your of your home.”

“You’d like that?”

“It’s only fair, you’ve seen mine.” You wink at him.

He leads you inside.

“Well, you’ve seen the kitchen, obviously.”

He takes you through the first floor and then leads you upstairs. He explains that he has all the extra rooms so his family has their own space for when they come to visit.

“And this is my room, but you don’t have to-“

“No, let’s see it.” You smile.

He smiles back and opens the door. Your jaw drops when you see how much space there is. There were two closets, both filled with nice clothes.

“Come check out the bathroom. I had some work done to it last year.”

“Why do you have a double vanity?”

“For guests.” He blushes. “My last girlfriend actually, she liked having her own sink. Apparently I have too many products and they can get in the way.” He clears his throat. “Anyways, I had everything redone last year. I know a great bathroom guy if you ever wanna update anything.”

“You have a guy for everything.” You giggle. “And you do have a lot of products, two sinks makes sense.” You walk out and back into the bedroom. “So…”

“So…”

“What date number would you consider this to be?”

“Legally, the first…not legally…” He grins. “Think I’ve lost track.” He steps closer to you. “My friends liked you.”

“I liked them.” You wrap your arms around his neck. “And I like you.”

“I like you too.” His hands move to your hips. “And I really like this bathing suit. Haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all day.”

You both smile and continue to make eye contact. Harry looks down at your lips and leans in. He presses his lips to yours, and you find yourself grasping at him to pull him closer. You couldn’t remember the last time you were intimate with someone, but it had definitely been too long. You were ravenous. You open your mouth him and he groans into you. You both shuffle back to the bed and fall on top of it.

“If this feels too fast, just let me know.” He breathes as you move to straddle him.

“Harry, I want you.” You cup his cheek and he moves to kiss your palm. “But, if it feels too fast for you, we can cool it.”  

“I want you too, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel pressured or anything.”

“I don’t, but thank you.”

You lean down to kiss him again. His hands move to the back of your bathing suit.

“Gotta get this off you.” He grunts.

You get off him to stand up.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Seems to be our little theme.” He smirks.

Harry stands up and takes his trunks off. Your eyes grow wide when you look down at his hard cock. He steps towards you and helps you out of your swim suit.

“I have a fun idea.” He says as he kisses down your neck. “We’ve been in the sun all day, let’s go hop in the shower.”

You smile at him and nod. He leads you into the bathroom and gets the water in the shower going. He yanks you inside and gets you under the warm water. He backs you up to the wall and press you against it. His hands roam your body as his lips find yours again.

“I’ve thought about this so many times.” He says.

“You have?”

“Mhm, there were so many times in the houses I showed you that I just wanted to take you right then and there.”

He nips at your jaw as his hands knead your breasts. You wrap your arms back around his neck. You feel his hard cock press against your hip and it makes you whimper. One of his hands slides down your stomach. He looks at you to make sure it’s alright and you nod yes.

Your head rolls back against the tile as his fingers slips between your legs. His thumb works your clit while he works two of his fingers inside you.

“Oh my god.” You gasp and grind your hips toward his hand. You reach for his length and start to pump him.

You both were panting. You have to let go of him to clutch onto his shoulders as you release around his fingers.

“Please.” You moan. “Fuck me. I have an IUD.”

Harry kisses you and hooks one of his arms under one of your legs so he can push in at a better angle. You bite down on his bottom lip, causing him to groan loudly.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He says into your ear as he thrusts in and out of you.

“You feel so good, Harry, fuck.”

He pulls out of you, turns you around, and presses back inside. His chest was flush with your back. You claw at the tile as he rocks in and out of you. One of his hands snakes around to rub your clit and the other works one of your breasts.

You feel a flood of things wash over you, but mostly it was another incredible orgasm. You could get used to this.

“Shit, I’m gonna come. Where do you want it?” He grunts.

“Inside me.”

“Jesus.” He groans and releases inside you. You moan out at the warm feeling.

//

“This is the softest robe in the world.”

“Glad you like it. You can wear it anytime.”

You both were cuddled up in his bed, munching on some fruit while watching TV.

“Do you have parties like this often?”

“Only when I’ve finally told a tougher home.”

“You were working with someone while working with me? How did you find the time?”

“Babe, I was working with like six other people.” He smirks.

“Doris was right, you are a shark.” You laugh.

“Gotta be able to afford this place, right?” He tucks some hair behind your ear. “You’ll stay tonight? I’m a cuddler.”

“Of course.” You giggle. “I’ll have to have you over for my next game night, you can meet all of my friends.”

“Like I said, I fully expect to be invited to your house warming.”

“That too.”

“But I’d be happy to meet your friends. Are they doctors too?”

“A couple of them are, yeah. We met in med school. Wouldn’t have made it through without them.”

You two stay up for hours, legs tangled in each other, telling each lots of things about one another. It was easy to talk to Harry, it had been since you met. He felt the same about you too. You both knew it wouldn’t be so easy to just get together. Harry’s schedule was unpredictable, and your days were long and tiring. But, neither of you really cared because you both felt like you found your person.

Harry loved game nights with your friends. He was a tad competitive, but it just made for more laughs. You both liked having your separate spaces, but you enjoyed when he could actually spend the night, or when you could spend the night at his place. Neither of you took it personally when the other was too busy or too tired either. Once you felt truly settled, you wrote Doris a thank you note for setting you up with the best realtor and the love of your life.

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian Week 2020 - “War of the Roses” (Rated M)

Summary: Kurt suspects that his husband may be cheating on him. But instead of taking the mature route of talking with him, he calls up a radio talk show that has a unique way of uncovering the truth. (2236 words)

Notes: Inspired by a talk show I used to listen to by the same name. Written for the @kbweek2020 Day 5 prompt 'angst', but not quite as angsty as you might imagine.

Read on AO3.

“War, War, War, War of the Roses!”

The pre-recorded announcement, surrounded by loud fanfare, blares through Kurt’s phone. He moves it away from his ear before the d.j. follows with: “It’s War of the Roses day on Magic 92.5! Hop on the website, send us a text, or call and leave us a message, and you, too, may be featured on War of the Roses! Today, we have Kurt on the line, ready to share the troubling story of him and his husband Sebastian. Kurt - thank you for joining us.”

“Th-thank you for having me,” Kurt replies, hating the way his voice sounds, the way it rattles around his dry throat. Hating what he’s doing. Hating that he gave the show their real names! What an imbecile he is! People he knows listen to this show! His boss Isabelle listens to this show! She must be listening now because he hears a beep over the line - a sign that another call is trying to wedge its way in. When he doesn’t answer it, it disconnects with a chunky bwap-bwap! A second later, messages start flooding his email, which he left open on the laptop in front of him. And not just from Isabelle. From Rachel, Mercedes, Santana, Brittany, Chase …

Kurt lifts a hand and closes the lid, shutting them out.

Oh boy. 

He’s only been on the phone for 30 seconds and he’s already made a mess of things.

“Kurt,” the d.j. says, “why don’t you start by telling us why you contacted us? How can we help you?”

Kurt sighs. I contacted you because I’m stupid, he thinks. And insecure. And, frankly, I should hang up right now and put my phone in the freezer for safekeeping before I do anything else stupid. “I … I think my husband might be cheating on me.”

Canned ooo’ing follows his admission, and if he didn’t regret this decision before, he certainly regrets it now. He can’t stand the idea that they’re using this situation that’s been keeping him up at night as the punchline of a joke. But he can’t blame them. He did this. There are other ways to go about this that he should have considered first. Counseling. Private investigators. Honest and open communication with his spouse. But for some reason, when his husband got up early and left for work without waking Kurt for a goodbye kiss for the eighth day in a row, Kurt broke. If his marriage isn’t working, if they’re headed for Splitsville, Kurt needs to know today. 

Now.

Sooner, if possible.

And that’s when he leaped for his cell phone and made this ill-advised call.

Kurt didn’t think there was anything wrong with his marriage. He thought they were happy – blissfully so. But for the past few days, things have gotten odd between them. Strained. And Kurt doesn’t know why. He needs to find out.

Lucky for him (depending on how you look at it), the radio program had a last-minute cancellation. The person who was scheduled to be on this morning decided to take matters into their own hands and run their unfaithful spouse over with a Cadillac.

A Cadillac that wasn’t theirs to begin with.

The station called him practically a second after he got off the phone with their answering machine.

“And why do you think your husband might be cheating on you?” the female co-host asks in a voice sympathetic from years of practice.

“Well … he’s been avoiding me.” Kurt winces at that weak excuse. To be fair, Sebastian’s firm recently landed a huge client - their first of this caliber in years. And since one of his partners is out on maternity leave, the job of wining and dining had fallen on Sebastian’s shoulders - a task he hasn’t performed in close to a decade; one he never liked much, especially after he and Kurt got married since it kept him away from home. “But on top of that,” he says, leaving that pertinent information out, “he’s been talking a lot about some guy named Martin.”

“Really?” the d.j. says, working hard to make this revelation sound like the scandal of the century since Kurt isn’t giving them much to work with. “And what has he been saying about Martin?”

“He’s been very complimentary about the job Martin has been doing down at the office.” Another wince. “A-and my husband isn’t normally the kind to hand out compliments. Plus, they’ve been working a lot of late nights - meetings, overtime, all last minute, that sort of thing.”

“Do you think Martin is doing something other than working that your husband might actually be complimenting him on?”

“Maybe,” Kurt says meekly, his heart going from ache to break. He hadn’t put those thoughts into words before today, hadn’t even texted them to his closest confidants now crowding his inbox. This is the first time he’s getting it off his chest … and he’s doing it to millions of people he doesn’t know.

He can hear Sebastian's voice in his head, laughing and saying, "Smart, Kurt. Very smart."

“Alright! Let’s get Sebastian on the phone and find out what’s going on once and for all!”

“Okay,” Kurt mumbles, covering the fact that the host's apparent enthusiasm to destroy Kurt's life put him on the verge of throwing up.

“What we’re going to do (for those of you who don’t know how this works) is offer Sebastian a dozen romantic roses to send free of charge to the person of his choice," the d.j. explains. 

"Let’s hope he says Kurt,” his co-host adds.

“Yes,” Kurt says, and very unlike him, he begins to pray. 

He prays Sebastian doesn’t answer the phone.

He prays Sebastian's secretary answers instead and tells them to send the roses to Kurt, Sebastian’s one true love. Kurt would accept that, hearing it second hand. That would be fine. Hearing it from Sebastian's secretary would be almost like hearing it from Sebastian. She’s a trustworthy soul, not inclined to cover for her boss.

He thinks.

Most of all, he prays that no matter who answers, no matter what happens, he’s wrong.

Ring-ring.

Ring-ring.

Ring-ring.

Click.

“Hello?”

Sebastian answers and Kurt’s stomach drops. In the time it takes Sebastian to complete that word, Kurt recalls the way most of these things end. Then his mind, which rarely seems to be on his side lately, conjures up how it might end for them.

This phone call and their entire marriage.

“Let’s get a name for the card, Sebastian. Who would you like us to send those roses to?”

“Let’s send them to Martin,” Kurt imagines his husband saying in a sly, seductive voice without pause. 

“Martin? And what message would you like to go with it?”

“Make it out to Captain Flexible. And write ‘last night was incredible. Here’s to many more late nights in the future’.”

That nightmare spell shatters when Kurt hears the d.j. say his husband's name. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” Sebastian answers, already sounding annoyed. No one who calls Sebastian’s office line ever calls him by his first name except family. 

And Kurt.

“Hello! My name is Andrew, and I’ve just opened a new flower shop in Uptown called The Rose Knows.”

“Good for you,” Sebastian says dryly.

“We’re calling businesses in the Midtown area with our first promotion. We’re offering a free dozen romantic roses to send to the person of your choice. And all we ask in return is that you recommend our shop to your family, your friends, your co-workers …”

“You must have the wrong number. I don’t need anything for free. Put an ad in the Pennysaver like everyone else.”

"I'm not sure the Pennysaver's still in business."

"Not my problem."

Kurt bites his lower lip, grinning when he should be in tears, the nervous flip-flopping of his stomach, like pancakes on a griddle, causing his abs to cramp. But that’s his husband. His Sebastian. 

So far, so good.

“Come on,” the d.j. presses. “We’re a small business, just starting out. Do a man a favor. Have some community spirit.”

Sebastian sighs like this is so beneath him. He stays quiet, and Kurt knows he’s debating between messing with this guy or hanging up on him. But Sebastian probably figures he’s not going to shake him until he gives in. Besides, Sebastian is nothing if not a networker. A flower shop would be of no use to him, but who knows? “Let’s see. Who in my life deserves free roses? My mom’s birthday is coming up, so maybe I could send them to her. Or my sister. She just had a baby.”

“Oh! Congrats!”

“A-ha,” Sebastian says, the amount of unimpressed in his tone staggering. “There’s Martin Lewis ...”

“Martin?” the d.j. repeats, stressing the name subtly to put emphasis on Kurt’s concerns.

He doesn’t need to. Kurt’s heart has already stopped.

“Yeah," Sebastian says, his voice going softer. "Roses would definitely brighten up his office.”

“And why does Martin deserve roses?”

“Not that it's any of your business, but he’s been busting his ass helping me put together a huge proposal. Plus, his wife's in the hospital. He could bring them over to her."

"O-oh ..." The d.j. slips. That's probably the last thing he expected to hear.

"Or you know what?” Sebastian's voice drops a register, a hint of wickedness lacing between. “I could send them to this guy I absolutely worship."

"Oh really?" The d.j. recovers, seeing things start to turn around. The hosts definitely root for a happy ending, but it's no surprise that angst makes their ratings soar.

The cringe-factor of someone confessing unaware to their infidelities. 

Their listeners eat that up.

"Yup. The most amazing, sexiest man on the face of the planet. The man with the biggest heart of any human being I have ever met. The man I call the Energizer Bunny because he can go all. night. long. The man I hope to spend the rest of my life with.” 

Kurt hiccups. His heart, a useless lump in his chest, lodges in his throat. 

“And who would that---?” But before the d.j. can interject with their usual spiel, Sebastian continues. 

“But I think he’s worth more than a bouquet I got for free from some lame-ass radio talk show. What do you think, Kurt?”

The line goes dead.

Kurt has been listening to this radio program religiously for close to seven years, and to his knowledge, this has never happened before - a caller called out by their s.o. But the d.j. is on it because he immediately plays an old school ‘wah-wah’ noise to show that Kurt has been caught.

“H-how did you know?” Kurt asks.

“Because I know you, Kurt,” Sebastian says. “I know the kinds of things you do when you panic, and you mostly panic when you feel like people you love are going to leave you.”

“Yeah?” Kurt sniffs, a tear rolling down his cheek. Adding to his list of things he hates, he hates that Sebastian knows him so well. “And what do I do?”

“You kind of go off the deep end.” Sebastian chuckles, lighthearted and anxious, reminiscent of the night he asked Kurt to be his for the first time. “And I understand why. I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. And I’m sorry about the late hours. I’ve just been caught up at work. I swear that’s all. But Kurt … can we talk about this when I get home? So I can look at you, in your eyes, and tell you that there’s no way in heaven or earth I would ever cheat on you? It took me a long time to win you over. There’s nothing that could persuade me to give you up, not for anyone.”

More sound effects - an awww followed by applause - play in the background as the d.j. and his co-host attempt to maintain control of the show.

“So … you don’t hate me?” Kurt asks.

“For which offense? Doubting me, my loyalty, and my love for you? Or airing our dirty laundry on the radio?”

“Uh …” Kurt awkwardly clears his throat. “All of the above?”

Sebastian sighs again. He sounds exhausted, but also like he can’t wait to get home and give Kurt a good ribbing. “Yes, babe. I forgive you.”

“Thanks. And I’m sorry about all this.”

“Apology accepted. I mean, what’re a few tawdry secrets among friends? Strangers? The barista down at Starbucks? My clients?”

“When should I expect you home?” Kurt rushes to cut him off, feeling more like a heel than he had before. “I know you have another big meeting and …”

“I’ll be home in about an hour. Wait … make that an hour and ten. I’m going to stop by a real flower shop and get you some roses. I think you’re overdue.”

“Really?” Kurt says, so astounded, so touched, he doesn’t hear the cheesy music the d.j. has started playing in the background.

“Yes, really. And Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“Be naked when I get there,” Sebastian growls.

The music stops, skidding to a halt with the sound of a record scratching. “Guys … uh … you’re still on the air.”

“Sorry not sorry there, champ,” Sebastian says and hangs up the call.

So does Kurt, shoving his phone in the freezer before the station tries to call back for a recap.

[starlightsearches]

Scoundrel

So my inbox decided to delete every request that I had, but lucky for me I actually copied them all down this time! Here’s three requests that I’ve combined into one story, hope you all love it!

Anonymous asked: Lol you reblogged a head cannon from @historymiss about kylo and his “scoundrel” skills and it is just so funny to think about, I’d love to read a fic by you about it. Maybe reader is some type of smuggler being hunted down by the first order and they get away but not before they impress each other with shady skills?

Anonymous asked: Ooh! How about a prompt? “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong” reader to kylo?

Anonymous asked: kylo x reader “is that blood?” “... no?”

Requests are closed ✨

Kylo Ren x Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: some angst, language, mentions of sex pollen 😏, mild horniness, not a happy ending 🙁

There's no light at all in your hiding place, just the hard press of metal against your spine and the sound of your own breathing. You close your eyes, not that it changes the much, fill your lungs as quietly as you can manage and then hold your breath, listening closely to the sounds of footsteps as they move past you, the modulated mumbles of storm troopers as they head towards the exit of your ship. It's not easy to track their movements just by sound, but you don't think they found your stash, thank gods. If they all get off your fucking ship, you can be on your way in no time.

"Search completed, sir. No sign of the fugitives." You can just barely hear one of the troopers report to some silent supervisor, and your mind catches on the last word. Fugitives? Who were they looking for? Some people would pay a lot of credits for information like that. Despite its chaotic beginnings, today could still be a lucky one. You press your ear closer to the false wall that you hide behind, furrowing your brow in concentration.

"Complete searches of the rest of the ships, they’re here somewhere," there's a second voice now, and as soon as you hear it, ice floods your veins. You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Shit.

Your previous confidence in your hiding place leaves immediately, but you can't move, your sense of self-preservation still convinced that he might slip up this time. You're startled from that delusion almost immediately by a loud pounding sound, and then the panel covering your little shelter gives way to blinding light.

You land on your hands and knees with a loud smack, the impact driving spikes of pain through your bones. Someone—a trooper you assume—is on you immediately, yanking your hands behind your back. As soon as your eyes adjust, he's in your line of sight, filling your view with an expansive blackness.

"You again," he's crouched down beside you, the words almost quiet enough to be a whisper, and said with a kind of reverence that might only exist in your imagination. It's been a long time since you last saw Kylo Ren, but it feels like no time at all.

"We can't keep meeting like this, Commander," you reply, coating your words in a healthy level of sarcasm to hide any trembling that could break through, "People might think that you're in love with me."

He doesn't respond, because he never does, but he lifts his hand to your face, rubbing his thumb roughly against your cheek, the seam of his glove scraping against your skin. "Is that blood?" he asks in the same even tone, raising his hand to eye level; you can just barely make out the dark red smear against the black leather.

" ... No?" And then after a beat, "well, it's not mine." Nothing changes in the man before you, but you hear a modulated snicker from behind, and the trooper mutters an apology when Ren shoots him what you have to assume would be a glare if you could see the face behind his mask.

"Search them," Kylo Ren stands to his full height, and you follow close behind, yanked to your feet unceremoniously by the trooper. Some might find this situation humiliating, being cuffed and patted down on your own ship, but you're able to ignore it rather easily, choosing instead to keep your eyes trained on Ren. He returns your stare, his arms crossed tight over his broad chest, fingers flexing rhythmically against the swell of his biceps. No, being handled like this doesn't bother you at all, but you think it might bother him.

Your weapons are removed one by one, and it's a few minutes before the trooper is satisfied, attaching the cuffs to your wrists and giving you one final shove to signal the end of his search. "Should I take them back to the command shuttle?"

Ren stays silent, and your mind kicks in to lightspeed as you try to come up with a plan. If they got you off this ship, your chances of escape would diminish greatly. You'd need to stay aboard, but how? Fighting both of them wouldn't be an option, especially not weaponless. You'll have to make this up as you go and hope things play out in your favor.

"Leave the prisoner with me for interrogation," he says to the trooper, and you stifle a sigh of relief, "I'll need to search the ship again." You try to keep your emotions in check as you watch the trooper walk towards the exit, following him around the corner and out the door with your eyes. It's just you and Ren now. You could make this work.

He breaks the silence as soon as you're alone, plucking the thoughts right out of your head, "you're not going to escape."

"That's funny, I think you said that the last time we ran into each other," you keep your reply light, your tone laden with a healthy dose of mockery so he won't look any deeper. It's not easy to play tricks on a man with powers like his, which is why you've got to keep him distracted, uncomfortable. After all, this is your arena—he'll have to play by your rules.

He takes you by the shoulder, pushing you further into the ship with a shove that's probably meant to be harsh, but there's no heat behind it. "You can't get away from me," he says, more emphatically. His fingers press deeper into your shoulder, a heavy grip to emphasize his point, like that’s all it would take to keep you with him. He should really know better by now. 

You shrug out of his grasp with a little twist, turning to face him in the small corridor, chest to chest, your bound arms sandwiched between you, your own reflection staring back at you through the eyes of his helmet. "I wouldn't count on it, Commander. It's become a hobby of mine to prove you wrong." Your voice is barely a whisper, the heat of your breath creating little clouds of fog on his mask—you're closer than most would dare to be. It's dangerous, the way you get in his space, dangerous how you challenge him, but gods, do you like it. 

He chooses to ignore you again, refusing to take the bait, and instead continues his path down the hall, pulling you towards the cargo hold. It's mostly empty right now, with a few scattered transport bins littering the corners—just empty enough to fool any asshole who might try to poke their nose into your business.

"What are you hauling?" Ren asks, unconvinced by your sparse collection, searching the hold with slow, methodical movements.

"I don't know if you could tell, but I'm actually between jobs at the moment," you kick a crate of broken blasters to sell your lie, but it's clear he's not convinced as he walks the length of the hold, searching for any signs of hidden compartments. You take the chance to look around, as well, seeing if there’s anything that might aid your escape, or at least help you get the damn binders off. It’s a waste of time—there’s nothing in here for you, and even if there was, you wouldn’t be able to get to it without Ren noticing. You look back at him, just for a moment, checking to see if he’s distracted enough to ignore your scheming. By then it’s too late—you hear the sound of the panel lifting first, and it's only a second before he's opening the crate hidden beneath, too quick for the cry that rips from your chest but gets caught on the way out.

"Spice, really?" He reaches a gloved hand towards the container of the innocuous-looking yellow powder and your heart threatens to leap out of your throat, your feet moving towards him of their own accord.

"Don't touch that!" The words finally break free as you throw yourself at him—you don't really have a choice. The impact is hard, hard enough to upset his balance as he stumbles backward, catching you in his grasp, his hands gripping at your shoulders to steady you, too. You’re anchored in his arms, but your breathing is coming hard and fast, the adrenaline making home in your veins even if the danger has passed.

"Afraid I might contaminate your supply?" he whispers the question, the words coming low and mocking through the modulator in his helmet. He thinks it's his turn to get under your skin.

"That's not spice," you say, breathing hard, panic still coursing. "It's a highly potent kind of pollen used to, uh, stimulate arousal. Getting even the smallest amount of it on your skin or in your lungs can create an effect that lasts for weeks." He goes still against you, solid as stone, but you can feel his heartbeat running rampant through his body as he realizes the meaning of your words. Neither of you dare to move, afraid of worsening your already precarious situation, even though you’re well out of reach of the container. The tension has sucked all the air from the room and you stutter, trying to bring it back, "there's a king in the Kazyk sector who pays me good money to haul it for him."

"Is it contraband?" His gaze flits from you back to the powder, and then back again. Even though you can't see them, the pressure of his eyes weighs on you, bringing a heat to your cheeks.

"Depends on who you ask. It is expensive, highly coveted, and notoriously hard to transport. It can cause . . . complications when moved, if you're not careful."

"Complications?" You feel yourself flush, your entire body uncomfortably warm—the temperature control on your ship must be malfunctioning. It's only made worse by your proximity to Ren; you can feel his heat passing through the thick fabric he wears, smothering you.

"Do I need to spell it out for you, Commander?" You had wanted to mock him again, using his title like that, but the whisper that leaves your parted lips is absent of any ridicule, your words so soft and wanton that it sends a shiver up your own spine. You can't help but wonder if he's blushing under the mask—if his thoughts are currently consumed, like yours are, by images of bodies intertwined, heady moans passed between parted lips, his hands—ungloved—exploring every inch of you . . .

Your wrists tug against their restraints, unbidden. It's a good thing that you're still cuffed, because if they weren't, you're not sure what would stop you peeling back those layers he wears, taking off that stupid helmet, finally revealing his face. What would he look like, laid bare before you? What would it feel like to be encircled in his arms with nothing between you but desire?

You ball your fists, fingernails pressing crescents into your palms as you try to remove these thoughts from your mind, forcing yourself out of his grasp with a sharp tug, trying to breathe again. Gods, what is wrong with you? Some of the pollen must have gotten into the air and made its way into your system. You turn back, hoping to confirm your theory, but the little pile of yellow powder sits undisturbed, and the air in the cargo hold is heavy and still.

"Just put the lid back on it. I'm not hauling anything else," you command, and to your surprise, Ren obeys, replacing the cover on the container gently so as to not disturb the powder beneath. He grabs you again, by the arm this time so that he can keep his distance, thank gods, not that it helps you cool off—the heat stays trapped beneath your skin for much longer than you’d care to admit.

He takes you through the rest of the ship, stopping occasionally to open one of the many hidden storage compartments scattered throughout, cracking locks, breaking codes seemingly without even trying. He finds all of them—even the ones you made yourself, ones you were sure nobody would be able to locate without your help. It doesn't matter anyway; you were telling the truth before. You're not hauling anything else.

You lean against the wall, watching as he rips away the edge of another panel in the floor, finding it empty, and you roll your eyes. "Not to be a dick, but can't people like you just feel if I'm harboring fugitives on my ship?" He looks up at you, and you hope he can’t see the way you’re still shaking, hope he can’t feel any of the shame you’re trying so desperately to hide. You need him off your ship—no more complications, no more interference.

"People like me?" he asks, with the slightest hint of laughter, just barely detectable behind the modulation. So he does feel it—your embarrassment, the leftover yearning that you can’t seem to elude.

You roll your eyes again, as if the movement itself could create the nonchalance you’re trying so hard to mimic. You want to be annoyed at him. You want to be unaffected, cool despite what just happened. But it’s not working. "You know what I mean. Couldn't you just sense them?" 

"I know you're not hiding the people we're searching for,” he admits, sliding the floor panel back in place, “and I found all of these- "he gestures vaguely down the hall, the evidence of his handiwork littered along the corridor "-on my own." It’s hard to be sure when you can’t see his face, but you think he might be smug about it all. 

You furrow your brow, thoughts humming, trying to piece together this interaction in a way that makes sense. When that fails, you resort to mockery. 

“. . . So you've been ripping my whole ship apart for what? Just to show off?” Your heart jumps when you see him freeze—the physical changes slight, but not beyond your notice—a slow smile spreading across your face. You’ve got him now.

“You are trying to show off, aren’t you? I have to admit it, I’m impressed,” he stays where he is as you move closer, the visor of his mask trained on you, his muscles taut like he’s ready to run. Who would have thought that, in this scenario, you’d be the dominant one?

“That’s not-” he stutters—you can hear it through the vocoder, and you laugh, just a short, breathy thing. You shouldn’t let yourself get distracted from the goal at hand, but this is much more fun.

“No need to be embarrassed, I tend to have that effect on people. Everybody loves a scoundrel.” You flash him a cheeky smile, and he bristles, folding his arms over his chest again and standing to his full height. You can see the tension in him, practically pulling him apart. He wants to run from you. He wants to stay. 

“Not me,” he says like he wants to believe it, but you can’t miss the way his voice shakes.

“You especially, Commander. The Order and its people are far too proper for someone like you. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

The silence that follows your words fills the space, leaving little room for air. Maybe you’re hallucinating, but he might inch closer, his fingers twitching, maybe to reach for the latches in his helmet, maybe to bury them in your hair.

The sound of pounding footsteps against the durasteel floor shocks the breath back into your lungs, but even as the trooper dashes into view, Ren doesn’t pull away.

“Sir, there’s a problem,” the trooper huffs, and after a pause, Ren rips his eyes away from you. The trooper hesitates, now, realizing that he’s barged in on what probably looks to him like a private moment. “Uh, there’s a small band of Resistance fighters attacking the troops, we believe they’re here for the fugitives.”

Ren’s immediately on the move, his cloak snapping from the speed of his departure, and you and the trooper glance at each other for a moment before they follow after Ren, and you do too, curious to see the commotion. Despite his limited headstart, Ren seems to have vanished from the corridors of your ship, no trace of him at all, the only sounds echoing through the hallway coming from your own footsteps and the soft jingle of the trooper’s movements. 

The jingling. You’re almost to the door before you realize what that sound means, and you want to smack yourself. You can see the keys now, out of the corner of your eye. Escape had never been closer, and you almost missed it. You choose to ignore the voice in the back of your mind that reminds you about what had caused you to become so distracted. You don’t have time to think about it now. You have a plan.

The trooper startles when you yelp, tripping over nothing before you go sprawling, landing on the floor with a clang. You watch him from the ground as he stares back at you, hesitant, glancing towards the exit before his eyes fall to you again.

“A little help?” You sell it, make it look like a struggle as you try and fail to find your feet, but the trooper still doesn’t move just yet, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Then he takes the bait.

“Thanks,” you mumble under your breath, falling into him as he pulls you to your feet, bracing yourself against the duraplast of his uniform before pulling the keys from his belt with a deft tug and tucking them into your palm.

He doesn’t even notice, running as soon as you're stable, and you follow behind, spinning the key in your palms angling it just right until you hear the snap of release. You catch the cuffs, trying to limit the noise they make as they fall from your sore and stiff wrists. You’re free. 

The trooper exits the ship immediately, off to help his comrades, but Ren is still by the door, deflecting the odd blaster fire. Most of the fighting is far past your ship, on the other side of the yard, but one or two stragglers have decided to aim his way. You watch from around the corner, listen as the sounds of fired shots ends with strangled cries. You move in behind him, getting close, holding the cuffs in place as best you can. 

“Looks like the fight has moved on without you,” you announce your presence, and he turns to look at you, but your eyes are on the saber, burning bright and wicked by his side. “Impressive, but not very useful long range. Blasters are more . . . versatile.”

He gives you a hard look—a searching look—before raising his hand, the fingers flexing in his gloves. Your blaster, the one the trooper pulled off of you earlier, nudges past you on its way to his hand and you jump out of the way, hardly noticing the smooth movement with which he fires, the bodies dropping even from this range as he shoots into the crowd with perfect accuracy.

You’ve never seen him in action like this before. Despite the number of times you had come face to mask with Kylo Ren, he’s never used his powers on you. Something about the realization is frightening.

“We need to leave,” he says, interrupting your thoughts, “back to my shuttle.” He’s looking at you again, head inclined, like it’s a question instead of a demand. And the stupidest part of you wants to go. You force that part of yourself to be quiet. 

He deactivates his saber, drops your blaster and reaches for you, his hand stretched out the same way it had only a few moments ago, but there’s none of the same power behind it; you still feel the pull.

“I know,” he says, and the cuffs fall from your hands because there’s no point in hiding anymore, “but . . .you still could-” he swallows hard enough for you to hear through the modulator, “-we still could . . .”

You walk towards him, your footsteps slow and even and he trembles, his fingers shaking again for an entirely different reason, and they don’t stop, not when they meet your waist, not when your hands grip both sides of his helmet, trying to find a hold against the cold metal.

“I’ll tell you what, Commander,” you say with a whisper, pulling him closer, close enough to rest your forehead against his, “I’ll go with you . . . the next time you catch me.”

It’s a smooth movement, unexpected—first you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the front of his mask, imagining the way his lips must be flushing in response, imagining what it would be like without the ridiculous apparatus in the way. He’s unbalanced, a little surprised, and when you push him back he doesn’t anticipate it, falling, flailing, until he lands with a thud in the soft mud outside of your ship.

“Until next time, Commander!” you call down to him as the hatch lifts, running to the cockpit as fast as your legs will carry you. You’re in a panic as you start up the ship, a shake in your hands that makes it hard to hit the right controls but you don’t stop until you hit lightspeed, trying your hardest to breathe.

You plug in the right coordinates and sit back in the pilot’s chair, brushing your hand across your cheek, picking up the stray moisture that lingers there. You don’t remember when the tears started. You’re not sure how to stop. It seems like today isn’t your lucky day after all.

[justbnhatrash]

Aizawa holding his newborn - @abnormalchemistry

~~~~ I’m really sorry I haven’t posted in so long, I just hit a low and couldn’t find the motivation to write. But after a brief mental breakdown and some comfort from friends, I really wanted to put this piece together and I think it came out pretty well. Let me know what you think!!~~~~

 ·        You got pregnant before the entrance exams for our resident class of protagonists. As such, by the time Aizawa’s begun teaching his new students, you’re ready to pop.

·        Aizawa’s slightly upset that you’re already coming to term – he likes watching you waddle around the house.

·        You couldn’t be happier to be in the final stages of pregnancy. While you’re a generally pleasant person, even while pregnant, you feel a lot of pain and you’re tired of having to use the bathroom every five minutes.

·        Since Aizawa is either working or sleeping at any given time, you go into labor while he’s at work.

·        You live relatively close to the hospital, so it doesn’t take long to get there after you start feeling contractions.

·        When you can’t get hold of Aizawa (probably sleeping in his banana bag while the kids are at lunch) you instead call Nemuri who answers immediately and makes her way quickly to you. You’re her priority as her best friend, she can call Aizawa once she gets you to the hospital.

·        She lets Principal Nezu know on her way out so that he can arrange a substitute for her class.

·        Knowing that it’s you who’s gone into labor, Nezu assumes that Aizawa has already left and is on his way to you as well. He arranges for Hizashi to take care of Nemuri’s class and for Toshinori to take care of Aizawa’s.

·        This results in an awkward exchange when Toshinori arrives to take care of the class to find him still there and giving a lecture.

·        Needless to say, Aizawa loses his mind once he finds out the situation. This was done very quietly when Toshinori screamed about how his wife was going into labor and he needed to leave immediately.

·        Taking All Might’s advice for once, he races to the hospital faster than most of anyone could blink. He leaves behind some very stunned students who didn’t know he had a wife in the first place.

·        On his way, he gets a call from Nemuri informing him of the situation. He curses himself for leaving his phone on silent this far into your pregnancy but gets over it fairly quickly when he finally arrives to the room.

·        You’re around an hour into active labor when he finally arrives. It takes an hour more for you to start actually birthing the child.

·        After it’s all over, Aizawa cuts the umbilical cord and you’re handed you’re bundle of joy. Your little girl, who you decided to name Azumi.

·        You only held her briefly before she was taken away for her clean up and vaccinations. Don’t be stupid, vaccinate your kids.

·        When she came back, you already knew she had him wrapped her chubby little finger.

 Aizawa usually looks pretty rough but seeing you after 4 hours of child birthing makes him feel like a model. Which is the opposite of how your relationship has ever been in his eyes. While waiting for the nurses to bring back your baby, Aizawa holds your hand and murmurs soothing words.  

He’s running down a mental list of everything he’ll need to do since you didn’t have much time to grab things from the house before Nemuri had picked you up. Now she’s probably demanding to be made the Godmother or something. He’ll need to go home and pack an overnight bag for the both of you and call to make sure Nezu knows he’s going to be taking the next week or so off. This is already causing him stress and he’s not even held her yet.

Looking down at your resting face, however, he knows it’s worth every second.

When Nemuri barges into the room, he’s a little less sure. She begins to talk animatedly about all the things you’ll get to do, both with the baby and now that you’re not pregnant. Aizawa pointedly ignores the wink she sends his way. Ignoring his lack of response, she offers her congratulations as well as to run by your house and grab everything you’ll need for your overnight stay and any food you might want.

On her way out to get everything on the list you provided, she promises to return to see the little babe. It leaves you both in a comfortable silence where Aizawa rubs him thumb across your knuckles and peppers sweet kisses across your face as well.

When the nurses do finally return, Aizawa is the one to take her from them. As a hero he’s had countless lives depend on him. From students to civilians, it’s his job to protect them. But looking into her black eyes that matched his, he knew for a fact that he would sacrifice them all for the bundle of joy in his arms.

 ~~REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!~~

~~Also, if you guys have anything you want to ask me or talk about just send it to my inbox, I’d love to talk and connect with you guys!~~

[itsclydebitches]

I've never played WOW, but my friends into it. I might as well try. Any advice for someone who's never touched a MMO?

Oh, fun question! It’s actually hard for me to think of things I’d have wanted to know when starting out because I started playing MMOs around age... 9? So in some respects I grew up alongside the genre, rather than trying to learn it after the fact, but some things I’d highlight about WoW now is:

Don’t worry about your race/class. There is SO MUCH about the “right” and “wrong” way to create a character, but at the end of the day you should choose whatever interests and appeals to you most. The caveat to that is that picking a tank or a healer class will put a bit more responsibility on your shoulders  — whether you like it or not at times  — so just be aware of that. Some people like taking on a specific role, others (me) do not. There are also classes that are better suited to soloing as much of the game as possible, if that’s something you’re interested in. 

Regardless, you will have to play with others eventually. If your friends are already into WoW it sounds like you have a good community/potential guild to turn to, but I’d recommend waiting until you feel confident in playing your character before entering groups with strangers. Frankly, the WoW community can be pretty damn toxic. I’m no expert, but I’ve played it long enough to feel confident in my abilities and I’m still cursed out by pissed off dungeon groups if we wipe. Raids will expect you to have learned the fights via youtube prior to coming in and when many inevitably haven’t (because it’s a game and homework shouldn’t be required lol) they’ll start yelling too. PvP is just a mess of accusations and slurs, depending on how badly it’s going... so yeah. I don’t want to make it sound like WoW is made up of nothing but assholes, but there are enough to make an impression. It’s something to avoid if you’re not feeling up to it, but given how much of the later content requires working with others, wait until you’re geared, have a good handle on your class, and are in a good head space before diving in. Or stick to playing with friends. 

Speaking of friends, if you do want to play with them I’d recommend picking their faction (Horde or Alliance). That will allow you to visit each other in major cities, help with the same quests, queue up for activities together, etc. Though the story has moved away from the Horde vs. Alliance rivalry recently, the gameplay still very much divides them. 

Check out everything you can (without getting too overwhelmed!) WoW has a LOT going on and while very little is required, much of it is beneficial while also being easy to miss, just by virtue of there being so much to do. Pick up any quests you find, explore as much of the world as you can, talk to NPCs, save the loot you get, etc. You can always get rid of something  — drop a quest, destroy/sell an item  — but it’s a bummer if you just go and sell everything only to realize you actually needed all that stuff for something else. So go slow and check out your options before making decisions. 

To help with that, I recommend WoWhead and Icy Veins for info, or just good old-fashioned plugging the thing into google with “wow” next to it. How often do I look stuff up? Constantly. MMOs don’t have cheating culture the way a single-player game might (I mean, there’s absolutely cheating, just not in the same way), so don’t be afraid to just google anything and everything you want. The comment sections of a page are your best friend. Whereas the official description may give you an overwhelming amount of information you don’t actually need, player comments tend to focus on what others really want to know: here’s where to find this NPC, yes this quest is bugged, make sure you do X before Y, etc. WoW has become a lot more accessible over the years in terms of helping players figure things out, but it’s still confusing at times, so make use of any resource you please. 

Another “cheat” is to use addons. I’d recommend grabbing WoWMatrix which will allow you to (safely) download addons without any of the hassle of putting it in the correct folders. I’d recommend Bagnon (makes all your bags open as a single window so you can see all your loot at once), Bartender (allows you to customize your action bar), Coordinates (puts a tiny, movable coordinates button on your screen which is basically necessary at this point to find things. Players will almost always provide coordinates when giving locations), HandyNotes (provides lots of info on your map, like how you go about summoning a rare mob), Pawn (helps you compare gear to see what’s best for your class/specialization), and if you do any PvP, Healers Have to Die, or HHTD, which marks all healers with a cross so they’re easy to spot in battle (always kill healers first! :D). WoWMatrix is SUPER easy to use  — just search for the addons you want via the application, download them, delete if you don’t like ‘em, and open it once in a while to “Update All” — and the various addons you can use are an absolute godsend. They make playing the base game that much better. 

If you’re someone invested in the story side of games, lore is going to be very weird here, just because WoW is 16 years old and you’ll be entering into the 8th expansion. I’ve played WoW since it came out and I don’t know wtf is going on a lot of the time lol. So just roll with it, or if you’re interested, make use of wikis, the novels, etc. But it’s not the sort of game where you’re in trouble if you have no idea who this person is or what battle they’re talking about. Just accept whatever they want you to do and pick up the story wherever you came in. 

You’re going to die a lot. A lot, a lot. That’s fine, everyone does. Again, not the sort of game where that’s a problem. Just know that you can either return to your corpse (flying there as a ghost) or rez at the graveyard you appear in if you’re willing to deal with a bad debuff for like 10 minutes. Also, all armor has durability that goes down over time, but it goes down faster the more you die, so you’ll want to repair (finding an NPC with the anvil icon) soon afterwards. 

There’s lots of little things to learn like that: a brown bag icon means you can sell to this person, blue exclamation marks are quests that will reappear daily, items with a gray name (as opposed to white, green, blue, or purple) are pretty much just junk and you can always sell them... there’s a lot. Pick things up as you go, keeping in mind that you’ll be given SO MUCH INFORMATION and no, you’re not going to learn it all at once. Part of the fun is figuring stuff out and seeing yourself improve. Feel free to ask questions too (there’s a chat box and you can speak to an entire zone at once), though frankly it’s a 50/50 chance whether someone will give an actual answer, or just roast you lol 

If you ever want to play “seriously,” I’d kinda recommend learning WoW with keybinding early on  — AKA, creating button shortcuts for various spells/skills so your mouse is only used for camera movement and targeting, rather than wasting time looking for the action you want to click on. I say “kinda” because I don’t do that. At this point my click method is too ingrained in my muscle memory for anything else, but I recognize that I’m in the minority for saying that’s an “okay” way to play. 

Anything is okay though. Do whatever. I mean, the above aside, literally my best advice is to just throw yourself headfirst into the game, accept that you’re going to mess so much up, shrug, and have fun with it. I spent an hour of my life running a Tourghast floor today... and then wasn’t able to beat the final boss. So I “wasted” that time since I didn’t get the loot, but who cares? It was fun! Literally do whatever and don’t let any of the assholes get to you. Someone sends a message you don’t like? Block them (right click their name in the chat box to get the option). Group is making you uncomfortable? Leave. Don’t know how to do something? Google it! The best thing about an MMO is also the most overwhelming: it’s a whole world with (almost) endless options, so though that freedom is exciting, it also means you have to curate your own experience. It’s a bit like being here on tumblr. Figure out all the nuances at you own pace, lurk as long as you’d like, and if someone is being annoying, google how to keep them out of your inbox. 

Idk how helpful any of these tips are, but I hope you enjoy it!! 😊

[kookscrescent]

SECRETS │ 04 │ jjk

➤ pairing│Jungkook x female reader ➤ summary│Finding someone who doesn’t know who he is, is rare for Jungkook. Everywhere he goes people seem to know his name, his face and the group he’s a part of. But when he comes across someone that doesn’t know any of that, he isn’t in any hurry to reveal that part of his life and the secrets keep piling up. ➤ rating│PG-13 ➤ genre│fluff, dating au, idol au ➤ warnings│kissing, strong language, swearing, the f bomb gets dropped a few times, angst if you squint, fluff ➤ word count│2.6k│semi edited ➤ release date│April 17th 2020 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

➤ chapter index│prologue│01│02│03│04│05│06��

~~~

When he does not make any more moves after a few seconds, thinking he is done, you open your eyes just as he gently presses his lips against yours.

Your eyes immediately fall shut!

Oh boy!

~~~

His lips barely move against yours for the first few seconds, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to; but you don’t, and slowly you begin moving your lips, Jungkook quickly following suit and soon enough your lips are moving in tandem.

You take your time, soaking in the feeling and excitement of your first kiss. You feel his tongue rubbing along your lower lip, quietly asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You don’t fight him on it, softly parting your lips to allow his tongue to stroke against yours.

On instinct, you fall into him – the palms of your hands resting on his chest, your fingers curling into the material of his jacket. Softly you hum against his lips, when he brings both of his hands to your cheeks, cupping them and the pads of his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones.

You could stay like this forever! Stay connected with him like this, feeling nothing else but his lips and his hands on your face. This must be what heaven feels like!

A soft groan coming from Jungkook vibrates through your core, making every nerve ending in your body tingle and come to life. If that are the sounds he makes when kissing, imagine the sounds he would make when-

No stop it!

All too soon you have to pull apart, the need for air becoming too overpowering for the both of you.

Pulling apart, you suddenly feel shy, your cheeks betraying you for the hundred time tonight. You have kissed guys before, but none of the can ever live up to the kiss you just shared with Jungkook!

Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, his eyes shining, and his pupils slightly dilated. You are sure that your own resemble his.

He smiles then and your stomach curl with butterflies.

“Aren’t you glad you decided to trust me?” he smirks pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You chuckle, eyes closing at the feel of his lips, “Very,” you breathe.

Back at the car, Jungkook opens the door for you again – like a true gentleman would – before he gets in himself.

You honestly don’t know what time it is, and you really could not care less, but judging by the countless of stars in the sky and the cold breeze that has settled amongst the trees, you would guess that it is quite late and you already know Jisung is going to question you when you get home.

Jungkook starts the car, and almost immediately you feel warmth on your hand. You look down; Jungkook has placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers curling around your own and his thumb stroking over the soft skin on your knuckles.

You don’t know what to say, just staring down at his hand as he strokes yours. It feels good! Way too good than it probably should feel on a first date, but nonetheless you don’t want him to let go!

It is then you notice something on his knuckles. You frown a little. Tattoos? When did those get there? And why had you not noticed them before?

Because you were too busy drooling over him, that’s why!

“I like your tattoos,” you break the silence in the car, deciding to compliment them instead of making a fool out of yourself for not noticing them and asking him when he got those.

His eyes flicker from you and down to his hand. He smiles warmly upon seeing familiar ink etched into his skin, “Thank you.”

You want to ask him more about it. Like what does it mean; ARMY, what does it stand for? Does he have a connection to the army? And what does the J above the M mean? And the crown? The small smiley face on his middle finger, what does that symbolize? You want to know more about it all, but before you even get the chance, Jungkook asks you if you have any tattoos.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “No,” you pout, “not yet anyway.”

Curious, he raises his brows, “You want one?”

“Yeah, I’ve always been really fascinated with tattoos and I’ve always wanted to get one, but I also don’t want to get one just to have one, you know,” you explain, “when I get a tattoo I want it to have a meaning.”

He nods along as you speak, keeping his eyes on the road but you know he is listening to every word you say.

“Do you have more tattoos than these?” You ask him, your other hand daring to reach over and brush across the letters on his knuckles.

Jungkook breaths sharply when he feels your touch, but he quickly composes himself. He stops at a red light, turning to you, his famous smirk appearing on his face before he speaks, “The entirety of my arm is covered.”

Your eyes practically turn to teacups, “Really?!”

“Mostly,” he laughs at your expression just as the light turns back to green and he begins driving again.

“Wow,” you whisper, your eyes traveling up his jacked covered arm as if trying to visualize what tattoos he might have under there.

Never in a million years would you have pegged him as a guy to have a full sleeve of tattoos. A few here and there, sure, but not a full sleeve.

But you can picture it clear as a day now that he has told you. You don’t think it would be just one design traveling the length of his arm. No, you bet he has multiple separate tattoos that all correspond with each other in some way or form. Maybe some writing of some kind, probably also something manly; like a skull or a snake. Maybe he even has a flower or two thrown in there? Perhaps a rose of some sort?

You are so lost in your own little world, picturing him without his jacket on – and shamelessly also without his shirt, but don’t tell anyone – trying to visualize what tattoos he might have, that you don’t even realize that he has already stopped the car outside of your apartment.

Disappointment washes over you in an instant! You don’t want the date to end yet! You want to keep talking to him and spending time with him.

Jungkook sees your pout. He does not blame you, if anything he feels the same way. It might be late in the night, but to him it is still way too early to end the date.

In the years he has been in the spotlight, never has he met anyone that does not know how he is or freak out in the slightest when meeting him. But meeting you was like a breath of fresh air for him! Like a completely new world he is ready to discover. Like a dream come true.

But he knows that the dream will inevitably turn to a nightmare at some point… there is no way around it, and truly he is the only one to blame for it. In a way he damns the day he first met you and the fact that he did not just tell you straight away who he was and what he did for a living.

No, instead he made up a handful of lies to be able to live a little while longer in this dream world of a bubble he has created for the two of you.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask Jungkook, seeing his somber expression as he stares down at your conjoined hands.

His down turned lips slowly rise to a smile and his thumb continues its stroking across the front of your hand, “I’m thinking that I don’t want to let you leave yet.”

“No?” you smile meeting his eyes.

He shakes his head, “No.”

“Then what do you want?”

A moment of purely electrifying tension passes before Jungkook slowly lowers his eyes to your lips, his tongue sneaking out to wet his bottom lip. You are captivated by the movement, your chest rising and falling.

“I want to kiss you again.”

Your breath hitches as you lean further towards him, “Please,” you breathe.

Releasing your hand, Jungkook cups the side of your face before smashing your lips together in a hot and messy kiss. This kiss is not like your first kiss. This kiss is much more intense, electrifying and… hot!

Leaning further over the middle console, you sneak your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with his hair, combing through it, tugging it, making him groan and you repeat the action just to draw another one from him.

You move with each other, teeth slashing together here and there but neither of you care, tongues dancing and breaths mixing like both of your lives depend on in. In this moment there is no one else in this world that exists.

Just Jungkook and you.

~ JISUNG POV ~

“Fucking Rose!” Jisung curses into the cold night air, kicking a random stone that is in his way, “Why does she have to be so fucking difficult?!”

He is talking to himself, loudly, anyone walking by would most likely think he is crazy, but after the night he has had, he thinks he might just be crazy.

Crazy to keep dealing with Rose’s fucking drama bullshit!

Speaking of the devil… he feels his phone vibrating in his back pocket. He does not even need to check the caller id to know who it is.

He already knows it is Rose!

He left her sitting at the bar he asked her to come to after you left to go out with June…

He knew it was a downright bad idea the moment he send her the message about meeting up, but he did not want to… essentially, dump her over the phone! He might be an asshole, but he knows right from wrong.

Rose had probably gotten her hopes up the minute the text rolled into her inbox, because Jisung never texts her except for when he wants sex, never, that is his rule! But when he asked her to meet up at a local bar, she probably thought it was because he was finally going to ask her to be his girlfriend.

But no.

He had it all planned in his head, he had even practiced it over and over again so he would not be sidetracked by her charms; aka her boobs!

He would go in, sit down at a table in the back where not many people would be able to see or hear them talking, he would wait for her to arrive – because knowing her, she would show up later than planned just to be sure she was making an entrance – then he would start out by saying that she is a great girl, that none of this is her fault – lie! Almost… – then he would lay it all out for he, give her the honest truth… that he is just not ready to settle down.

It might be only half the truth, but at least she would not be so hurt afterwards.

But no no… Rose had her own idea of how it would all go. Jisung practically had not gotten a single word in before she started ripping his head off, accusing him of being a complete asshole who only thought with his dick and that he should learn to appreciate what was right in front of him and how good she was for him.

He had been ready to agree with her, until she told him that she had slept with his collogues Seo Joon out of spite and to “get back at him”. He had kept his cool at the time, keeping his rising anger at a bay, only allowing it to come forwards after he left.

Admittedly, it did bug him a little bit that she had slept with someone else! All this time she had been going on about him sleeping with other girls and that it was an asshole move, and then she goes and does the same thing.

Maybe it is the face that he thought she was a sure thing to return to when his bed got cold? Or maybe he did not really think she would ever do it?

Out of spite and with a straight face, he had told her that Seo Joon could keep her and that she was not even that good in bed anyways.

That had been the tip of the iceberg for her, and she leaned across the table and slapped him across the face.

He deserved that one!

Eventually his phone stops vibrating in his pocket, but no sooner has it stopped does it start ringing again.

With a frustrated sigh, he answers, “What?!”

“You are a fucking asshole Jisung, you know that?!” Rose’s sharp voice cuts through the phone, ringing loudly in his ear.

“So I’ve been told a few times,” he replies cold.

Much more of this and he is going to lose his fucking head!

“Well prepare to hear it for the rest of your fucking life asshole, because you are! You’re a-“

“Is that all you called to tell me Rose?” he cuts her off, reaching the corner of his apartment building. All he wants right now is to be done with this so he can go to bed and sleep like any of this did not happen.

“No!” she practically screams, “I also called to tell you that you’re a goddamn fucking…”

He lets her trail off, biting his ear off, but he only pays half a mind to it when he notices a black car parked in front of the building with two people making out like horny teenagers inside.

Snickering, he has the urge to knock on the window and tell the couple to go get a room. That is until the girl in the passenger seat starts to look uncomfortably familiar.

That hair, the jacket… he knows the girl. Frowning, he steps a little closer, careful not to get caught by the two.

Oh, he definitely knows the her!

It’s ____!!!!!

Making out with some dude!!

“…you idiot fucking asshole! Now what do you have to say to that?” Jisung had almost forgotten that he was talking to Rose on the phone, too engrossed in the scene taking place in front of his eyes.

“I have to go,” he hangs up on her, stuffing away his phone.

____ is making out in a car with some random dude in the middle of the fucking night?! What the fuck?

Why would you lie to him about that? Why would you not just tell him that you had a date instead of him having to tease you about your obvious lying and then catching you practically dry humping in a car?

The guy turns in his seat, showing more of his face to him, and he too looks oddly familiar. Not familiar as in a oh I know you, we have hung out before, or in a we are friends way, but in a I have seen your face somewhere before way!

The dark blue tips of his hair catch the streetlight, an just like a switch being turned on, he realized just who the fuck you are sucking face with!!

“June my fucking ass…”

I’m really happy with how this chapter turned out!!! Arrggghhhh they finally kissed! Annnnd Jisung knows who Jungkook is, uhhh... I wonder how the next chapter is gonna turn out ;) 

Remember if you enjoyed this chapter, please like and reblog! It helps me a lot, thank you! 

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All Rights Reserved © 2020 Kookscrescent 

[basil223]

Queer Girl Rambles pt.1

(If you don’t like long stories that could be said in only a few sentences, skip this. It’s a winding road, so either get in the car and drive with me, or skip the party)

I’m a recently self accepted Queer person. I realized I was a homosexual a little over a year ago and it took a bit for me to be comfy with that. And then I decided I’d download the Her app. It was beginning of lockdown (although if you had asked me then I would have said it was mid lockdown, so I guess this qualifier doesn’t really matter), and I, as a socially out, but familial closeted person decided that talking to women on a dating app might give me a chance to spread my little gay wings.

It took about 20 minutes but a girl, let’s call her Hannah, messaged me. She was funny and actually held a conversation, and Hannah made it very very clear that she thought I was beautiful and that had COVID not been a thing, she would have asked me on a date.

I was shocked, delighted, and baffled. A woman? Liked me? I had never felt desirable before then. No one had ever actively pursued my attention before ~at least, in a respectful way~I was excited.

But here’s some things you’ve got to know. I am a college student. I am a college student who struggles with school. I am a college student who struggles with anxiety. I am a college student who’s main goal is to graduate with possible grades and this is her one try main focus. And most importantly I am a college student who is trying their best.

Sounds normal right?

I get busy, everyone does. Over the next week, Hannah and I seemed to be playing phone tag. One of us would respond, and then along while later the other would. Eventually we exchanged Snapchat’s.

Ok. More backstory...at the time I was taking summer classes, which is essentially a 3 month course jammed into a 4-6 week period. I was taking not only Physicsand Physics lab, but I was also taking Calculas. A class I had failed, in a normal term, twice already. My strengths are not in math or science but I had to take these to keep my graduation date from pushing back. For MANY reasons, it was one of the most anxiety ridden summers I’d ever had. But I handled myself. I’d gone to therapy a few years before, and I had some therapist sanctioned coping mechanisms, and some self taught ones. For example. Spoons. You have 20 spoons a day and you can spend them on whatever you like. Some tasks take more spoons than others, but you only get 20. So use them well. At the time, school was about 15 spoons. Staying closeted during a pandemic and social movements in a southern conservative home took up 4. Which left me about one spoon to spend. Most days this was spent laying on the floor with my puppies or attempting to keep in contact with my ride or die friends. Because that’s one of my self taught coping mechanisms, which may not be healthy or not. But when I reach my capacity, I shut out the world. I cannot respond to texts or calls or, anything. And at this point in my life, my friends understand that. If they don’t hear back from me, I don’t HAVE to worry about upsetting them( I mean I still worry but as I said. Anxiety). At the very least I can just text them spoons and they get it. I try to respond as fast as possible but sometimes things get pushed back a few days.

Anyway, back to the story. We had been snap chatting a bit, at least everyday, but it wasn’t the same. I began to notice that Hannah never seemed to talk about herself. I’d ask her questions about herself but I’d get very little information. And she’d quickly turn the convo back to me. And let me tell you. There is only so much of talking about my own life that I can do. I tried using convorsation starters or asking her opinions on things I had never experience but she had, and...still she gave little information and turned it back to me. It was frustrating, but I accepted it. Maybe she wasn’t as good a conversationalist as I first thought. And another thing I noticed was that she never seemed to be able to chat with me first. I was the one who had to initiate it first. One day I decided that I wasn’t going to message first. A few hours go by and I see on her story that she posted a meme about people not texting people. It seemed weird but I thought, no can’t be about me. The next week I tried it again. The meme was way more pointed and most could argue passive aggressive. I called her out on it, and told her if she wanted to talk to me, she didn’t have to wait for me to do it. She agreed said she’d do that. ~stage whispers~ she didn’t.

These passive aggressive story posts would continue for,gosh a half a year now. If I didn’t text her for a stretch there would be a post on her story about it. It got to a point where I wouldn’t open her stories or even Snapchat at all.

In December I got an internship, which is essentially a full time job and it’s expected I take night classes to accommodate this (it’s part of my major so it sounds crazy but I swear it’s normal). I was anxious and it’s been a huge learning curve. Throughout this time, I would off and on respond to her texts, I’d tell her how the internship was going all that jaz. But there would be days where my spoons we spent and most defiantly not on her. Her call out posts increased. My anxiety got real bad and her posts only made things worse. So eventually her messages sat in my inbox, unread, for 3 weeks. I contemplated never opening them. But I felt bad. I opened them and reexplained why I couldn’t answer in a timely mannor, apologized for the unintentional ghosting, and made it very clear that if she wished to continue texting me, that I couldn’t promis a prompt response. She said “don’t worry about it. I get it. Just remember to text me when you’ve got time!”

Last week J hit, and while Im still not comfy with what was going on in my job and life, I was mentally able to make a rare Snapchat story about getting to pick music at work.

I still didn’t have a lot of spoons to answer her, so her comment on my story sat untouched in my inbox till tonight.

Tonight I found the courage to leave a groupme of people I am no longer friends with. And I opened Snapchat to leave our Snapchat groupchat, when I began to think about Hannah. Because there on her story was another call out post. I had just left groupchat a of toxic people and yet here I was clinging to a girl who made me feel so bad about spending my spoons. Who could not, for whatever reason, have an adult behavior about her feelings and what she wanted and needed out of our “friendship”. I decided I’d remove and block her. I don’t need this in my life.

But her unopened messages were still there. I opened them. There on my screen was Hannah’s response to my week old Snapchat about picking music. The gist of the message? “Looks like your not to busy to post on Snapchat”

All my guilt and remorse flew out the window, and Hannah was immediately blocked from my life.

Why did I wait this long to boot her out? I think it’s because she was the first, and so far the only woman to show interest in me. And I was scared that by blocking her, I was giving up my proof of gayness. Her interest made me feel more valid in my identity.

But that’s the thing. My identity is MINE. And it took my first year of Gay to understand what that meant. I am queer. And that is not dependent on if someone of my sex finding me attractive. That is not dependent of somone giving me attention. I will not be giving others the power to hold my identity hostage anymore

[skybird13]

Fair Game Drabble - Cold

This one goes to @theonceoverthinker​ who sent me this cheeky prompt:

So yes, for those of you asking in my inbox, I am still doing drabbles. My turnaround rate is just slow as shit at the moment, lol. But keep sending in your requests and I will get to all of them as soon as I can. 

This one turned out differently than I expected but hopefully, you all still enjoy!

Story under the cut.

Prompt: Cold

Qrow maintained his distance while the landing crew loaded the crates onto the transport. His Semblance had been manageable enough for this particular mission but no point tempting fate. Especially with an airship packed full of volatile Dust about to take off. If there was ever a freak accident waiting to happen, this would be it.

He tried to keep his attention on the tundra. Even in this flat snow-encrusted wasteland, a Grimm might pop out of a hole in the ground and catch them off guard. Maybe. But his eyes invariably drifted back to the airship. Or, more accurately, back to Clover. 

Clover, who was lifting the last of the crates into the transport by himself. 

Clover, whose arms Qrow was not staring at. 

Clover fucking Ebi, who he still couldn’t quite figure out.

Clover set the final container inside the airship and then turned to him and gestured inside. There was a small space left amidst all the crates, big enough for one person to stand in comfortably. Or two if they stood very, very close.

“Do you want to go back now?” he asked. “It will be a tight fit, but I don’t mind.”

Anyone who didn’t know what to look for would have missed it: the slight drop in Clover’s voice, the way his easy smile became edged with something… more. Of all the things Qrow didn’t understand about him, at least that wasn’t much of a riddle.

Qrow snorted and shook his head. “That thing is begging for a technical malfunction. Trust me, you don’t want me in it.”

Clover shrugged as if that was the answer he had been expecting and reached inside to grab a small pack from one of the bench compartments. He called in to tell the pilots to go ahead, then turned and slammed his fist against the side of the airship and grinned at him as the door slid obediently back into place. 

Qrow rolled his eyes. Gods, he was obnoxious. And attractive. Obnoxiously attractive.

Clover moved back and gave the pilots the all-clear signal, and the ship lifted into the air and swiveled back towards the golden glow of Mantle and Atlas to the south, leaving them to the unique silence of the Solitas wilderness. 

“Our transport should be about twenty minutes out,” Clover said as he rejoined him. He dug into the pack and pulled out a small military-grade space heater, and set it in the snow between them, turned towards Qrow. A soft wave of warm air wrapped around his legs almost immediately. 

Qrow hummed and shifted a little closer to it. He tilted his head back and released a deliberate breath into the night air, where it fogged against the smattering of stars that peeked through a hole in the clouds.  

“No rush,” he said.

Clover smirked. “You’re really not a fan of the city, are you?”

Qrow shrugged. “Nothing against them, really. But dense populations and I usually don’t mix well.”

“Because of your Semblance?”

He nodded absently and they lapsed into a familiar, comfortable silence, only… this one felt different somehow. Almost anticipatory. Clover stood on the opposite side of the space-heater with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. He was making a show of not looking at him, gaze drifting across the tundra or up into the sky as if he thought the transport might have caught a lucky microburst that cut their travel time down by ninety percent. He looked… a little too content. Qrow kept his expression neutral and watched him in his periphery. Two could play that game. 

Whatever the hell the game was.

Long minutes passed. After a bit, his focus became split between trying to figure out what Clover was trying to do and cursing the fact that, while the space heater was doing wonder for his legs, it only increased his awareness of the frigid air against his upper body. He pulled his hands from his pockets and wiggled his fingers to increase the blood flow. His body demanded more but he flat-out refused to dance around from foot-to-foot like a child, especially when he still didn’t know what his partner was playing at.  

He glared down at the space heater. Why the hell didn’t these things have a more upward flow? Fat load of good it would do to keep his legs warm if the rest of him froze above the waist. The gesture had been sweet and all but now he was beginning to wonder if…

Qrow spun on him. “You absolute bastard.”

Clover broke into a loud, full-bodied laugh. The sound spread out across the tundra and might have been contagious if it hadn’t been coming from the world’s biggest asshole. 

“I’m sorry,” Clover said, the words staggered around his laughter. “I didn’t think it would make it that much worse.”

“No, you’re not,” Qrow snapped. “And yes, you did.”

Clover couldn’t even muster up enough control to deny it a second time. He doubled over and clutched at his stomach, struggling to breathe. On impulse, Qrow bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and lobbed it at his stupid, perfect face. Clover dodged half-heartedly and some of it landed, powdering in his hair and melting on his skin to drip down the front of his shirt. Which only pissed Qrow off more. 

He jammed his freezing hands under his arms and scowled, shuffling away from the space heater out of sheer spite. “Ass.”

“Okay, wait, I’m sorry,” Clover said. 

He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded like he thought he was the funniest person alive. But he picked up the space heater and fiddled with it, then moved over to him and set it back down. This time, the heat swept over Qrow’s entire body and it took everything in him not to groan. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Clover, which had no impact whatsoever on his smug grin.

“You’re a dick, Ebi.”

“And you’re stubborn,” Clover said. “I was starting to think I’d have to thaw you out in the transport.”

Qrow bit the inside of his cheek and gave him the most murderous glare he could conjure. Why the hell was he fighting off a smile? What sort of bizarre effect did this man have on him? 

Clover’s expression softened in real apology and he reached for Qrow’s hands and drew them gently into his own. Holding Qrow’s gaze, he lifted them to his mouth and breathed against his fingers, close enough that lips brushed sensitive skin.

A small, strained laugh came from the back of Qrow’s throat and he shook his head.

Clover blew another hot breath against his hands and raised his eyebrows in a look of such exaggerated mock innocence, he almost came full circle to obscene. “Something funny?”

“I can’t tell if you think you’re being subtle or if you really don’t give a shit.”

Clover laughed again and this time the warmth of it pressed into Qrow through his fingertips. He released his hands and retreated to the pack, returning with a heavy woolen blanket that he shook out and threw around Qrow’s shoulders. He helped situate it and then very lightly dragged his thumb along the underside of Qrow’s jaw. 

“For better or worse, subtlety has never been my strong suit,” he said. “Not with this, anyway. But if you’re lodging a complaint, I can try to be a little more mysterious.”

He winked but his smile this time was warm and open, all pretenses dropped. Even the soldier’s mask fell away. And for a breathtaking moment only Clover Ebi stood in front of him, the person Qrow had been trying to see for the past several weeks bare and undisguised. He was... stunning.

Shit, Qrow thought. I am so screwed.

Later, he would blame what happened next on that gravitational pull he had felt from the day they had worked the SDC mine mission together. Qrow closed the distance between them and threw one half of the blanket over Clover, then leaned against him, experimenting, curious. He hadn’t done this in a very long time. Clover stood stiff for half a heartbeat. Surprised, hopefully. Confused would be even better. Let him feel thrown for a change. Then warm hands settled gently on Qrow’s back and pulled him closer.

He laid his head on Clover’s shoulder, nose barely brushing the side of his neck, and let himself settle into his arms.

“Never really been a fan of mystery,” he said.

End

--------------------------------------

In my head, Clover and Qrow are totally one of those couples who enjoy pulling shit on each other now and then. They’re not quite together yet here, but the interest is known and mutual. So, Jenna, you can take this as the very first time Clover helps Qrow get warm (after being a bit of a brat about it). 

So there you have it!

I’m going to try to tackle prompts people send in the order that I receive them, so up next is one from @maracamilkshake​ about game night at the Rose/Xiao-long/Branwen household! I’m excited to play with that one. 

Note, I might post some shorter things I take upon myself to write in between prompts people send. It really just depends on where my head is at. But I will get to everything in my inbox so keep those requests coming! 

And finally, if you want to be tagged, just send me a message or comment on this post and I’ll happily add you to the list.

Tagging: @theonceoverthinker​ @solitude-of-stars​ @delta-altair​ @cinnamon-tank​ @xwildangel​

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