#If you want to make it a COCKTAIL and not a mocktail it’s pretty much a lemon drop with extra steps so just go with vodka

[carouselcometh]

The Glass Coffin Mocktail! In honor of my most beloved and favorite Saw trap 5ever :)

[reiding-writing]

Okay but cold!Reader being hit on at a bar during a team outing and Spencer over hears her turning the person down only to be called a rude bitch maybe he doesn’t realize he CAN be assertive when he defends her and even she’s like ???? Where’d that come from?

BACKUP [ONESHOT]

/ˈbækˌʌp/

some men are assholes who only care about their own gratification, and some men are spencer reid.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, alcohol, ‘nice guy’ character, misogyny, lots of swearing

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.1k || series masterlist!!

a/n: genuinely hated the douchebag dude so much i had to take multiple breaks whilst writing this 😭

main masterlist!!

The bar was bathed in a warm, golden glow courtesy of the overhead lighting, a faint aroma of aged oak mingled with the rich scent of brewing coffee creating an inviting atmosphere. The air hummed with the gentle murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and laughter.

Behind the polished mahogany bar, shelves adorned with an impressive array of spirits gleamed in the dim light, the bartenders weaving amongst each other with practised ease, expertly crafting cocktails and pouring drinks for the patrons seated along the bar stools. “What can I get for ya?”

“I’ll get an espresso martini and a mint mocktail, thanks,” You lean your elbows against the top of the bar, leaning forward on them as the bartender gives you a nod, obviously satisfied with your taste in drinks.

You couldn’t entirely agree with her. Espresso martinis were great, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that out of every flavour he could’ve possibly chosen, Spencer wanted a mint mocktail. You understood the no alcohol part, that fit Spencer’s personality to a T, but mint? Really?

You didn’t have much time to question Spencer’s taste in drinks as somebody bumps into your side, and you shift over slightly to make room for them at the front of the bar. “Oh, sorry didn’t mean to bump you like that,”

The guy gives you a small smile as an apology, and you wave it off with a small shake of your head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it,”

“One espresso martini, and one mint mocktail,�� The bartender returns with your two drinks in hand, setting them on the bar in front of you with a smile. “That’ll be 32 dollars, cash or card?” Curse Washington DC and their ridiculously extortionate drink prices.

“Cash-” You grab your wallet out of your pocket to pull out the notes needed, only to be stopped by the stranger that’d bumped into you pushing your hands gently into your lap.

“Let me cover it for you,” He holds his hand out towards the bartender, card poised between his index and middle finger.

“No it’s fine-” You’re mildly caught off guard by the stranger’s immediate willingness to pay for your drinks, shaking your head as you try to move his hand away from the bar. He doesn’t listen.

“Take it as an apology for bumping into you,”

“Really it’s fine-” He cuts you off with a small ‘shush’ as he gestures for the bartender to take the card, which she does after a few seconds of prompting.

“…Thank you,” Your thanks feels a little forced from your end, not exactly thrilled at his insistence even if it did just save you 32 dollars that could then be spent on more drinks later. You know it was supposed to be a nice gesture, but the way that he ignored your refusal and then continued to shush you afterwards left a sour taste in your mouth.

“Anything for a pretty lady,” He gives you a small wink as he leans against the bar, turning his attention back towards the bartender before she can leave. “Two full pint craft beers, make it quick sweetheart,”

You and the bartender share a glance at his wording, a silent confirmation that you weren’t the only one getting an off feeling from the guy, and she gives him a small nod and an awkward smile before retreating to make his drinks.

You take that as your sign to leave yourself, but you barely get the glasses off the wood of the bar before you’re stopped. “Why don’t you come back to my table hm? We can get to know each other a little better,”

You turn your head in his direction with your lips pressed into a line and an awkward inflection in your tone. “No thanks,”

“Awe come on, what’s a guy gotta do to get a few minutes alone with someone like you?” he taps his fingers against the table, an overconfident smile on his lips and a quirk in his tone. “You don’t have to play hard to get you know, it’s okay to give in sometimes,”

“I’m gonna pass,” You take a small sip of your martini in the hopes that it’ll break up the awkwardness a bit, but you don’t really have any luck in that department, considering the fact that this guy seemingly cannot take a hint.

“Come on, I paid for your drinks,” He gestures his hand towards the two glasses in front of you.

“I asked you not to pay for my drinks,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Reid, you turning your head every two minutes isn’t going to make her come back any quicker,” Morgan shakes his head with a small smirk at Spencer’s demeanour, seemingly finding Spencer’s attitude hilarious under his lightly alcohol-induced haze.

“It shouldn’t be taking this long, the bar is pretty clear,” Spencer’s tone shows more concern than anything. He knew how some drunk people could act, and even though you weren’t entirely drunk yourself he was a little worried that you’d end up in fist fight with someone if you were left alone for too long in such a confrontal environment. “I’m just worried she might get into an argument with someone,”

“Quite the opposite by the look of it,” JJ leans into Emily’s side to point over at the bar where you were standing, speaking to somebody that none of them recognised.

“Aye, Ice Queen’s got game huh?” Morgan took a swig from his bottle with a laugh as he followed JJ’s finger towards you.

“Are we really surprised?” Emily clinks her bottle against Morgan like the two are celebrating the fact that you’ve seemingly got ‘game’ underneath your icy exterior. “She’s a total dominatrix,”

Garcia seems to find Emily’s statement particularly hilarious, actively hitting her hand against Morgan’s bicep with an enthusiastic nod of her head. “Oh 100%,”

Spencer doesn’t share the same enthusiasm towards your presumed sex life, not just because it made him feel icky to talk about something like that behind your back but also because from his point of view you weren’t having a good time.

You were stood straight up with your arms crossed over your chest in a behaviourally defensive manner, and although he couldn’t see your facial expression with how you had your back to the group, the way you stretched your neck only further illustrated that you weren’t enjoying whatever interaction you were having with the man opposite you, no matter how much he seemed to be.

Maybe it was the alcohol blinding the others to your behavioural tells. Maybe he’d just become accustomed to the smaller things when it came to reading you. Either way, you looked like you wanted out of the situation you were in.

He wondered why you hadn’t just walked away yet. You were usually good at establishing your boundaries and putting your foot down when you needed to, so the fact that you were still entertaining a conversation that you clearly didn’t want to be taking part in was more than a little odd to him.

Then a glass shattered on the floor between the two of you, and it was definitely time for somebody to break the conversation.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Come on don’t be like that, you might have more fun than you realise,” He didn’t even acknowledge the bartender carrying over the two beers as she set them down on the bar with a sympathetic look in your direction, absently holding out his card in her direction as he kept his gaze on you.

“I told you that I’m not interested.” Your tone harbours more assertiveness this time. You weren’t known for having the longest string of patience, and under the effects of the alcohol in your system that string was halting by the minute.

You’re tired of being nice and hoping he will go away, you were going to end this conversation now.

“Don’t get pissy with me now, I’m being nice here,”

“You need to leave before you see what ‘being pissy’ actually looks like.”

“Are you threatening me?” The guy looks like he’s about to blow a fuse at your response, seemingly dumbfounded at the way you’re standing up for yourself, which makes you feel inherently bad for any woman who has had to endure his self-entitlement in the past.

“I’m telling you to back off. I said no.”

You take Spencer’s drink from the bar top and turn to leave, but incessant as he is, the guy tries to catch your arm so you can’t, causing the drink to spill everywhere and the cocktail glass to smash all over the floor.

“Look what you’ve done now you stupid bitch,” If the sound of the glass smashing didn’t garner an audience from the patrons nearby, the way he raised his voice definitely did.

You turn your gaze from your soaked shoes to him through furrowed eyebrows, opening your mouth to begin your retaliation. Someone else beats you to it.

“That’s a horrible way to speak to somebody,” You knew that voice. Of course you did, he sits opposite you in the office every day rambling about star trek to anyone who so much as glances in his direction.

“Excuse me?” The guy turns his attention towards Spencer with just as much seething in his features.

“You shouldn’t speak to people like that,”

“Reid.” You grit his name out through your teeth as warning for him to not get involved, but he doesn’t listen to you.

“I can speak to whoever I want however I want, get lost you freak.” He takes a step towards Spencer, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt at looking more dominating.

“Have you ever heard of the Napoleon Complex?” Spencer looked down at the man with a raised eyebrow. “Studies have shown that men with shorter statures tend to be more aggressive and domineering in social situations to compensate for their lack of height,”

You raise your eyebrows in mild surprise at Spencer’s statement, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at the look on the guys face at the accusation.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He takes another step forward, almost chest to chest with Spencer by now, although not exactly on equal ground considering that Spencer was at least a head taller than him.

“Common behaviours include loud, ostentatious, and aggressive attitudes, overly grandiose ambitions, and an attempt to be domineering when in the presence of other people, to assert your height advantage over those shorter than you and prove that your height disadvantage is irrelevant to those taller than you,” Spencer continues to state the details of the Napoleon Complex with no acknowledgement of the rising anger of the man in front of him, but you can see the beginnings of nerves in the way he wrings his fingers together behind his back.

Either way, Spencer was absolutely ripping this man to shreds in the most Spencer Reid way possible, and you found yourself not wanting to break this sudden streak of assertiveness he’d garnered, especially considering it had spawned under wanting to support you.

It was a surprising sight to be sure, but you wouldn’t say it was unwelcome.

You were glad that Spencer had an assertive side to him, it meant that he was capable of looking after himself (or you in this case) without the need for external backup. It was also nice to see that he didn’t lose the key aspects of himself in the process. He was still very much Spencer Reid, but he was using the aspect of himself that would usually be the subject of negative comments as the main form of his defence.

It was a perfectly Spencer move.

“You wanna see aggression? Because I will show you goddamn aggression,” The guy huffed in his seething contempt for Spencer’s attitude, rolling up his sleeves.

“Bar fighting is highly illegal, and you could receive a prison sentence of up to 3 years and 6 months for instigating one,” Spencer takes a small step backwards as an offer for the two to just drop the argument and move on, glass crackling underneath the soles of his converse.

“You think I care?” The tension in the air was palpable as the man clenched his fists, his face contorted in anger whilst Spencer remained surprisingly calm, his stance firm yet non-threatening.

He didn’t have time to actually start anything as the bartender from earlier returns, a bouncer stood to her left with a very unamused expression on his face.

"I think it's time for you to leave," She said in a no-nonsense tone.

The man's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected intervention. "You can't kick me out! I didn't do anything wrong!" he protested, his voice growing louder.

"You harassed another patron and broke a glass. That's reason enough," the bouncer retorted, his gaze unwavering as he uncrossed his arms. He wasn’t like Spencer. He wasn’t thin or unfit, he was built, arms barely able to rest properly at his sides from the muscle mass in his biceps.

Not to mention that he was even taller than Spencer was, and no amount of Napoleon’s Complex could convince someone that they’d be able to physically take on somebody like that.

Realising he was outnumbered and outmatched, the man reluctantly turned and stormed out of the bar, muttering curses under his breath.

With the tension diffused, Spencer turned to you, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m fine Reid,” You nodded gratefully, “Thank you,”

“Of course, I’m glad you’re okay,” He half-awkwardly rubs his hand over his arm, all semblance of his previous confidence slowly dwindling until he’s back into the shyly-endearing nerd that you’re used to seeing him as.

“I would say sorry about the drink, but you had it coming choosing mint as the primary flavour,” You look down to the remnants of the glass on the floor and the drink that was soaking your shoes.

“Mint has been shown to positively affect brain functioning,” Spencer holds his hand out to catch your elbow to stop you from stumbling as you walk over the shattered glass.

“Doesn’t mean it tastes good,” You don’t shrug off the small contact like you usually would, Spencer presumes it’s just the alcohol in your system dulling your awareness. It’s definitely not because because having a soothing presence after an altercation like that was comforting. Definitely.

Spencer gives you a small smile once you’re out of the shatter-zone before turning to the bartender. "I'm sorry about the mess. Let me help clean it up,"

The bartender shook her head, a grateful expression on her face at the offer. "Don’t worry about it, happens more often than you’d think,"

“You’re sure?”

The bartender gives another simple nod as she retreats behind the bar, presumable to grab a dust pan to clean up the mess. “Give me a second and i’ll make up another drink for you guys,”

“Oh you don’t have to-”

“Don’t be silly,” The bartender waves him off with a small laugh. “It’ll only take a minute,”

“Thank you,” Spencer shoots the bartender a grateful smile before turning his attention back towards you. “You’re sure you’re alright? You didn’t cut yourself on the glass?”

“I’m fine Reid don’t worry about it,” You check yourself over despite the confidence in your words just to make sure that you weren’t actually hurt and just couldn’t feel it.

“So, Napoleon Complex huh?” You raise your eyebrow at him, suppressing a smile as you recall the way Spencer had hit the nail on the head assuming that the reason the dick from earlier was so aggressive was because of a height insecurity.

He gives you a small nod with that awkwardly endearing expression of his as his eyes also scan down by your ankles for any scratches you may have garnered from the glass. “It’s more common in men than you might think,”

“Napoleon was definitely a piece of shit that’s for sure, a fucking short one at that” Spencer laughs shortly at the crudeness of your assessment, although still agrees with you anyhow.

“Napoleon wasn’t actually as short as most people think he was, the translation of his official records misconstrued his height because french inches were actually longer than american inches and…” You weren’t going to remember any of what he’s telling you in the morning, but that didn’t matter right now.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Hii! I was wondering if you could write something with bartender!reader and spencer? They meet at a bar in one of his cases and he is WHIPPED, she gets drinks for the whole team and he just can´t stop staring at her, maybe penelope also tries to flirt with her? i don't know i love pen and just wanted her to be included in this lmao

Southern Charm

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: hiii i love this prompt !! i hope this is something like what you were looking for <3333

main masterlist

After successfully closing a challenging case in New Orleans, the BAU team decides to take a well-deserved break before heading back to Quantico. Will LaMontagne, JJ's beau, invites them to his favorite bar, Jewel of the South, for an evening of drinks and relaxation. Penelope Garcia, who joined the team on this trip to assist with the precinct's outdated technology, is thrilled to unwind with her colleagues in the vibrant city. With the spirit of New Orleans as their backdrop, the team gathers at the elegant cocktail bar, ready to enjoy a night of laughter and friendship, leaving the stresses of the job behind.

As they settled into a cozy corner, Penelope Garcia took it upon herself to ensure everyone had their preferred drink. As she made her way to the bar, Spencer Reid found himself glancing around the room, his mind still half-occupied by the case they had just closed. But his attention was quickly drawn to a captivating figure behind the bar. 

You were busy mixing drinks with an air of effortless grace, your warm smile lighting up the room. Spencer’s gaze lingered on you, his interest piqued by your charm and the way you seemed to effortlessly command the space.

Penelope returned, carrying a tray laden with cocktails and setting it down with a flourish. "Alright, team! Drinks are served!" she announced, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she noticed Spencer's transfixed gaze.

"Looks like our resident genius has found something—or rather someone—interesting," Derek teased, nudging Spencer playfully. "Or should I say, someone has captured his attention?"

Spencer blinked, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "I, um, was just observing how well she handles the bar," he stammered, trying to sound nonchalant.

Emily raised an eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across her face. "Uh-huh, sure. Handling the bar. That’s what we’re calling it now?" she quipped, a knowing look in her eyes. "I think someone should go say hello."

Before Spencer could protest, you approached their table, carrying a fresh round of drinks. "Here you go! Compliments of the house for the amazing work you all do," you said, your smile even brighter up close.

Spencer tried to find his voice, but all he managed was a slightly awkward, "Thank you. You’re so pretty–kind, this is so kind of you.”

Penelope, ever the social butterfly, seized the opportunity to introduce herself. "I'm Penelope, and this is Spencer. And you have impeccable taste in cocktails!"

You chuckled, clearly enjoying the interaction. "Thanks, Penelope. I do try to keep the drinks as interesting as the company. That’s why yours has a special twist," you said, turning your attention to Spencer with a wink.

Spencer flushed yet again, "Oh—oh, thank you. Um, what is it?"

"Pretty boy, why don't you just take a sip and see if you like it?" Derek suggested, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah, pretty boy. And don't spare my feelings; I'd be happy to make you something else," you offered charmingly, leaning in slightly.

Spencer took a sip and realized you'd made him an absolutely delicious mocktail. His eyes widened with appreciation. "Thank you so much, this is wonderful."

"Glad you like it!" you replied, your smile warm and genuine.

Emily Prentiss, ever curious, leaned forward. "I have to ask, how did you get into bartending?"

"Yeah!" Penelope added with a playful glint in her eye. "A beautiful thing such as yourself must get a lot of tips."

You giggled at their flattery, clearly enjoying the banter. "Ha! You guys are too much. I'm just putting myself through grad school."

"And the tips?" JJ chimed in, wiggling her shoulders, much to the amusement of everyone.

You leaned in closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially, which put your chest right next to Spencer's face. "I'm not technically supposed to say..." you trailed off, casting a playful glance at Will, who was sitting nearby, "but if Will here promises not to say anything, the tips are phenomenal!"

Will smiled and raised his hand in mock solemnity. "My lips are sealed, good lady," he assured you, playing along with the lighthearted mood.

Spencer was trying his best to keep his eyes forward during the interaction, but they kept drifting over before finally accepting his fate of staring at your chest. His mind was a whirl of confusion and embarrassment, his usual eloquence completely deserting him.

"I'd say Reid over here wants to give her more than a tip," Derek laughed, his voice full of good-natured teasing.

"Morgan," Hotch scolded, though not without a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Realizing how your position had flustered the poor, adorable man, you straightened up, giving Spencer a little space. He was clearly overwhelmed, his cheeks a brilliant shade of crimson.

Spencer, noticing everyone's eyes on him, suddenly felt the urge to escape. "Excuse me," he mumbled, getting up from the table and making a beeline for the bathroom, his heart pounding with mortification and exhilaration.

As he disappeared, Penelope sighed theatrically, casting a wistful look in your direction. "Well, if he doesn't make a move, I might have to!" she declared with a laugh, earning a chorus of agreement from the rest of the team.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the group's camaraderie and the genuine affection they had for one another. "You guys are a lot of fun," you admitted, feeling quite at ease despite the little whirlwind you'd unintentionally stirred.

Derek grinned at you, clearly enjoying the playful chaos. "Yeah, we're all sorts of fun. But don't worry about Spencer; he'll be back. Probably with a list of reasons why he shouldn't have left," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You nodded, glancing toward the bathroom with a smile. "I'll have to make sure his drink doesn't get warm in the meantime."

—

Spencer stepped outside the bar, seeking a breath of fresh air to calm his racing thoughts. The air was humid, clinging to his skin, but it was a welcome change from the crowded bar where the laughter and clinking glasses seemed to amplify his embarrassment. He leaned against the brick wall, replaying every second from the moment he first saw you, analyzing each word and glance.

The way you'd leaned in, the warmth of your smile, and the kindness in your eyes—every detail felt vivid in his mind, refusing to be ignored. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door open behind him.

"Hey, handsome," came your voice, cutting through the evening air like a melody.

Spencer spun around, his heart skipping a beat. The learned fear of being approached from behind flashed through him for a brief moment before he realized it was you. "Oh, hi," he managed to say, trying to sound composed but failing spectacularly.

"Hey, now," you teased, a playful lilt in your voice. "Don't sound too excited to see me. I'll start to think you don't like me."

"Oh—I, I mean, well," Spencer stammered, fumbling for words. His mind raced to form coherent sentences, but the proximity of your presence and the way you looked at him made it nearly impossible.

"You’re really cute, do you know that?" you said, your smile softening the tension in the air. You stepped closer, leaning against the wall beside him, your eyes glinting with amusement.

Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your directness. "Um, thank you," he said, his voice filled with surprise and gratitude. "I don't usually get called that."

"Now that's a damn shame," you replied, shaking your head slightly. "What do you get called? Pretty? Beautiful? Charming? Sexy?"

Spencer laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nerdy, weird, loser," he admitted, the words tumbling out with a self-deprecating shrug.

"Nope," you said firmly, crossing your arms as if the mere idea was ridiculous. "I refuse to believe anyone could have a negative thing to say about you. You’re sweeter than honey."

He met your gaze, slightly bewildered by your unwavering confidence in him. "I have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory, I can read 20,000 words per minute, and I have three PhDs. No one is calling me anything kind. Other than doctor or genius, maybe."

"Sexy," you corrected him with a teasing smile.

"What?" Spencer blinked again, this time in genuine confusion.

"That's downright sexy, sugar," you repeated, your voice low and playful.

Spencer was at a loss for words, an unusual occurrence for someone who usually had an answer for everything. His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as he processed your words, his heart skipping a beat at the compliment.

"I—uh," he stammered, searching for a response that wouldn’t sound completely ridiculous.

You chuckled softly at his reaction, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him. "Don’t worry, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable," you said, your tone gentle and reassuring. "I just think intelligence is incredibly attractive."

Spencer nodded slowly, still trying to wrap his head around the idea that someone found him attractive for more than just his intellect. "Thank you," he finally managed, his voice sincere. "That's… really nice to hear."

"You're welcome," you replied with a warm smile. "So, what brings you to New Orleans, sugar?"

Spencer relaxed slightly, grateful for the change in topic. "Work, mostly. We just wrapped up a case, and the team decided to take a night off to unwind."

"Well, I’m glad you did," you said, giving him a sidelong glance. "Otherwise, I might not have met the smartest—and sexiest—guy in New Orleans."

Spencer watched as you smiled, a hint of playfulness in your eyes as you leaned against the wall. The evening air was thick with humidity, but there was a certain warmth in the atmosphere that made everything feel alive. 

"Can I get you a drink?" he offered, feeling a sudden burst of confidence. 

“Sure, honey. I’m off in just over an hour. Will you wait for me?” you asked, your voice a smooth blend of charm and Southern warmth.

Spencer was entranced by your spell, your accent adding an extra layer of allure to every word. “Of–of course,” he replied, his voice tinged with both eagerness and a touch of awe.

Your smile widened, clearly pleased with his response. "Great! I promise I won't keep you waiting too long."

Spencer nodded, feeling a strange ball of nervousness and excitement fluttering in his chest. He couldn’t believe his luck; not only had he caught your attention, but now he had a reason to spend more time with you.

"Just hang tight, and I'll join you as soon as I can," you said, giving him a reassuring wink before heading back inside the bar to finish your shift.

As you slipped back through the door, Spencer took a moment to steady himself. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the heat building inside him, a gentle reminder that this unexpected encounter was real. 

—

Spencer returned to his friends, who were still enjoying their drinks and each other's company. Penelope Garcia spotted him first, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to come back," she teased, patting the empty seat beside her. "Did you have a nice chat with our lovely bartender?"

Spencer smiled, feeling a bit more composed now that he was among friends. "Yes, actually," he said, a hint of bashfulness in his voice. "She’s really nice."

Derek Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "Nice? Man, she was practically making eyes at you, and you didn’t even notice."

"She was?" Spencer asked, genuinely surprised. "I mean, I thought she was just being friendly.”

Emily Prentiss laughed, taking a sip of her drink. "Spencer, I think you might need to brush up on your flirting skills. She was definitely interested."

Spencer blushed, his gaze dropping to the table as he tried to process this new information. "Well, she said she’d join me for a drink after her shift," he admitted, glancing around at his friends' reactions.

Penelope clapped her hands in delight. "Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! You have a date!"

"It's not a date," Spencer protested, though his smile betrayed his words. "We're just… having a drink."

"Uh-huh, sure," JJ said with a knowing nod. "But you better be on your best behavior, Doctor Reid."

—

The time passed more quickly than Spencer anticipated. As he sat with his friends, he found himself watching the clock, eager for the moment when he could see you again. 

Finally, as the hour drew to a close, you emerged from behind the bar, having swapped your work apron for a casual yet stylish outfit that seemed to suit you perfectly. Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, your presence a beacon of warmth in the dimly lit bar.

You approached the table with a confident stride, flashing a friendly smile at the team. "Hope I didn't keep y'all waiting too long," you said, your drawl a melodic touch to your words.

"Not at all," Spencer replied, standing up to greet you. "It was worth the wait."

Derek raised his glass in a mock toast. "Look at you, Reid, sounding like a proper gentleman."

You laughed, clearly enjoying the group. "Y'all are such a fun bunch. You might have to make this a regular stop."

Spencer felt a sense of ease settle over him, his earlier nerves fading into the background as he focused on the here and now. You were standing beside him, your presence both comforting and exhilarating, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for this unexpected twist of fate.

"So," you said, turning your attention back to Spencer, "are you ready for that drink?"

"Definitely," he replied, feeling a surge of anticipation. "Lead the way."

With that, you guided Spencer to a quieter corner of the bar, where the noise of the crowd faded into a gentle hum. The dim lighting cast a warm glow over the wooden table, creating an intimate setting. Spencer felt his heart beat a little faster, knowing that this was a chance to learn more about the intriguing woman who had captured his attention so effortlessly.

Spencer settled into the booth across from you, his hands fidgeting slightly with the edge of his sleeve. He offered you a small, bashful smile, the kind that hinted at both his excitement and nervousness. "So," he began, searching for the right words, "I guess this is the part where I ask you about your favorite drink, but it feels a bit redundant given your expertise."

You chuckled, leaning forward with a playful glint in your eye. "Well, I'm always up for a good mystery. Surprise me, Dr. Reid. What would you imagine my favorite drink to be?"

Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the challenge. He considered your question, his mind racing through various options. "Hmm, I’d guess something classic but with a twist. Maybe an Old Fashioned, but with a splash of something unexpected like lavender or ginger."

Your eyes widened in mock surprise, clearly impressed. "Not bad, Spencer. I have to admit, I do like a bit of lavender in my Old Fashioned."

Spencer felt a surge of pride at getting it right, his awkward charm shining through as he said, "I, uh, thought it might match your personality—elegant with a hint of something uniquely you."

You smiled, your gaze softening as you watched him. "That’s sweet of you to say," you replied, your voice carrying a gentle warmth that made his heart skip a beat.

The conversation flowed naturally, with Spencer occasionally stumbling over his words in an endearing way that made you smile. He was unlike anyone you’d met before, his intelligence paired with a genuine kindness that was refreshing and intriguing.

As you talked, you noticed how Spencer's eyes seemed to light up when he spoke about his work and the things he was passionate about. His enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself leaning in closer, captivated by his stories and the way he seemed to pour his heart into everything he did.

"So, Spencer," you said, your voice taking on a more playful tone, "do you always get this nervous around women, or is it just me?"

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Well, I—I suppose it's not every day I get to talk to someone as captivating as you," he admitted, his honesty shining through despite his awkwardness.

You grinned, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him. "Captivating, huh? I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is," Spencer assured you, his gaze steady despite the flutter of nerves in his chest. "You have this way of commanding attention. It's, um, quite impressive."

You reached across the table, lightly touching his hand with yours. "And you have a way of making people feel appreciated, Spencer. That's a rare quality."

Spencer felt a spark at the contact, his heart beating a little faster. The moment seemed to stretch out, charged with an energy that was both thrilling and a bit nerve-wracking.

"You know," you said softly, your eyes meeting his with a hint of mischief, "I think you're pretty special, too. Not just for your brain, but for who you are."

Spencer swallowed, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate. He felt a pull toward you, a magnetic force that seemed to draw him closer with every word and gesture.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That means a lot coming from you."

You smiled, your eyes holding his in a gaze that seemed to speak volumes. As if sensing the moment, the bar around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

Spencer hesitated for a fraction of a second, his mind caught between doubt and desire. But then he saw the encouragement in your eyes, and the decision seemed to make itself.

He leaned across the table, his movements tentative but filled with intent. You met him halfway, closing the distance with a gentle ease that made the moment feel right. 

The kiss was soft and tentative, a sweet brush of lips that carried the promise of something more. Spencer felt his heart soar, the warmth of the connection spreading through him like a gentle tide. 

When you finally pulled back, your eyes locked onto his, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "See?" you teased, your voice a soft murmur. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Spencer chuckled, relief and happiness washing over him. "No," he admitted, his voice filled with newfound confidence. "I guess it wasn't."

You grinned, leaning back with a satisfied air. "Good, because I was planning on doing that again," you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Spencer felt his heart skip at the prospect, the evening stretching out before him with endless possibilities. He realized that this unexpected encounter could be more than just a chance meeting.

And as he sat there, sharing a quiet moment with you in the corner of the bar, Spencer knew that he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

—

“Did you guys see that??” Penelope burst out, her eyes wide with excitement as she pointed toward the cozy corner where you and Spencer were sitting.

Emily turned her head just in time to catch a glimpse of the sweet interaction, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Looks like our genius finally made his move," she commented, clearly pleased by the development.

Derek, ever the supportive friend, couldn't contain his enthusiasm. “Pretty boy is putting in the work!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together in approval. “I knew he had it in him.”

JJ shook her head with a laugh, leaning back in her chair. "I guess we all underestimated Spencer's game," she said, casting a proud glance toward her colleague.

Beside her, Will LaMontagne joined in the teasing, a playful grin on his face. "JJ, you might have a new travel buddy when you come to see me," he teased, nudging her with his elbow. "Looks like Spencer's found himself a reason to visit New Orleans more often."

JJ chuckled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Well, I can’t say I blame him. She's a real catch."

Aaron Hotchner, usually reserved and composed, allowed himself a small smile as he watched the interaction unfold. It was rare for Spencer to let his guard down, and it was heartening to see him embrace this new connection.

"Good for him," Hotch remarked, his tone approving as he raised his glass in a quiet toast to Spencer's success.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse

[wonryllis]

AGENT HEESEUNG ★ LITTLE BIT DANGEROUS BABY, THAT'S HOW I WANT IT.

惹き付ける 𓈃 ﹙where,﹚ agent red gets distracted on a mission.

001 ꗃ. agent heeseung headcanons 640 words! warning MDNI NSFW; mentions of fingering crdt! of edit @hypenwons on tiktok LIB?

"stop staring at her," jay's voice rings in heeseung's earpiece.

"what?" he's too lost in thoughts like? dude you got a national level mission to do where's your mind at?

less than two hours ago he was in prehaps THE MOST secret facility in the country going over plans of an undercover search that he was SPECIFICALLY CHOSEN for

and here he is now leaning against the countertop of the bar with a fancy drink in hand

surely it wasn't alcoholic, he can't afford to be intoxicated in the slightest bit, right?

"olive green knit crop and black pants, you're staring," the venom and warning in jay's voice bites back from the control room

heeseung takes a sip of his mocktail and sighs there's no way literally no way, jay's gotta be kidding

"i'm not staring," this has to be a joke because why is jay not kidding, it's been fifteen minutes and his eyes just keep following you and your every move

from the way your mouth shapes as you laugh amidst the crowd of your friends(he assumes) to the way your lips touch the glass of vodka to the way your hips sway as you scurry to the dance floor

"you are, agent red," how your body moves to the music and the little peaks of skin that show and how it just seems to glisten under the disco lights.

"shut it, you have a mission to focus on," with the high tech glasses on, he can see the remnants of the liquid shining on your lips each time you drink a glass.

he can not help but be drawn to those beautiful colored lips

in fact your whole existence is quite literally making him go crazy, his thoughts running to such places that he absolutely should not be thinking about on a mission for fucks sake

if he were to just walk over and kiss you right now he wonders what you'd taste like, vodka? tequila? flavored cocktails? sweet and addicting? BINGO!

"yeah whatever," heeseung chugs in his drink and puts the glass back on the counter, zeroing in on you one last time.

"what? what did you just say heeseung-" rip jay. we'll miss you dearly

BEFORE HE TAKES OUT HIS EARPIECE AND GLASSES TURNING THEM OFF AND SHOVING INTO HIS SUIT POCKETS KSJHKKS

in the blink of an eye he's right behind you, slyly putting his hands on your waist as he joins you on the crowded dance floor standing impossibly close kshjsjd

and like an incubus bends to whisper in your ear, voice husky and tempting. he knows how to charm his way * - *

"you wanna dance together, pretty?" (died.)

the entire time his hands roam everywhere and anywhere caressing your curves shamelessly (if that's not heeseung)

it doesn't take long though for him to initiate a kiss, isn't that what he dropped his mission for?

but god forbid how wrecked he was about to be,, for the moment his lips touched yours, lee heeseung knew

HE WAS DAMN SURE INTOXICATED (can you hear me screaming?)

sucking and biting on your lips wasn't enough for him he just wanted more, so much more 👀

"does it feel good baby?" he can not stop staring at your face as his hand moves between your legs. fingers inside you with the thumb circling against your clit and the other hand around your neck holding you in a light choke

the way you suck in a breath, bite on your lips whinning to hold in a loud moan, the sounds going straight down against his tight pants and how your hooded eyes keep looking at him in a sultry daze.

WAY TOO INTOXICATED to realize you're the one he was supposed to find info on, and you have him exactly how you planned to, wrapped around your finger.

so, enemies to ?

TAGLIST. ( open ) @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue

[omegastation]

Here comes my review (mostly writing & lore) of the Mass Effect Official Cocktail Book. I also included a list of all characters named with all page numbers related to their mentions.

I’m including this for our Andromeda Appreciation Week because the last part of the book is Andromeda-related :)

Introduction:

Cassandra Reeder is the recipe developer and Jim Festante is the writer.

The book is written by two writers in-universe. The first one is an asari calling herself “Ambree T’Sia” who is a lot like Gossip Girl (“you won’t guess and I’ll never tell” is an actual line in the book). We have to guess her identity but she doesn’t mind spreading a lot of stories about people and their drinks. 

The second writer is an angara called Roa who decided to add recipes to T’Sia’s existing ones, but more adapted to the Andromeda Galaxy. Roa dreams of a better world for everyone. He’s friend with Dutch and Anan from the Vortex.

Each writer presents drinks based on locations: bars and spots in the two galaxies. There also some snacks recipes as well.

Review: 

It’s hard for me to say anything about the recipes, though I will say it seems like there are different ingredients so a bit of everything for everyone. The difficulty can be adjusted: I thought some drinks looked really complicated to make (and some use other drinks in the books as base), but if you want to do a simple cocktail/mocktail, there are at least 10 good options.

Some recipes are directly named after characters or inspired by characters, so it might be fun to try some based on your favs. 

One drink seems weird to me, and that’s the N7 Shooter (mostly because of the mix of ingredients). If you try it, tell me what you think. 

Regarding American measurement: if you want to be precise, I would wait for a translation. Otherwise, I would get a cup and google some stuff before making it.

The drinks I'll try at some point, in a mocktail version only:

Tuchanka Sunset - 22

Perfection - 54

Tupari Blast - 61

Denorian Beer Granita - 64

Tequila Se’lai - 70

Shadowbrokertini - 74

The Mindfish - 83

Calibration Cooler - 95

Pink Marble - 130

Marljeh - 142

Kadara Sunrise - 143

So that’s pretty much it for the food & drinks, sorry!

My review is more about the lore and the writing.

I found the witty tone enjoyable. I like that there’s a distinction between how T’Sia writes and how Roa writes at the end of the book. T’Sia gossips a lot but there’s no malice. Roa is very earnest and seems quite adorable to me.

You’ll see I wrote down all the characters named and the pages, sometimes it says something about the writer, sometimes not.  A good example: Samantha is mentioned 5 times by T’Sia. She finds her charming and young, and mostly links her to drinks and other people (a full EDI/Traynor-like drink is in there). Meanwhile, Drack is mentioned 4 times, Vetra 3 times, but Roa has an entire page about how fascinated he is by Vetra.

Regarding what we learn, lore-wise: not a whole lot. It mostly plays on what we already know. 

What we do learn has to do with some characters. Without being too spoilery, it’s very light and fun for the most part - like Joker and Steve having a challenge, Vega seducing T’Sia, characters loving specific drinks (like Traynor), etc. Some characters (like Kaidan and Miranda) are sharing their woes or backstory. Roa, in the later part of the book, talks a lot about Dutch and their meeting is very very cute.

My favorite anecdote is that Liam’s movie night spreads to the Nexus and becomes a tradition :)

Some characters are very absent while others are more present. I would say it’s logical in a way, but it’s one thing to be aware of. If you’re a fan of Jaal, there are no mentions in the book. Though, like I said, a mention doesn’t always mean a lot: Peebee is mentioned once but we learn nothing new.  I also found it a bit sad that Ashley is not in the book. Obviously, I’m happy to have Kaidan there, but Ashley would have been a wonderful character for fun anecdotes here.

Characters named and pages:

Note: if you find that I forgot a mention, drop me a DM. I’ll add the page and/or character!

Joker - 12, 98

Sel Vass - 14

Solem Dal’serah - 21

Karin Chakwas - 25

Padok Wiks and and Urp - 26

Wrex - 26, 65, 106

Aria - 19, 27

Oleg Petrovsky - 27

James Vega -29, 46, 112

Shepard - 33, 30, 41, 93

Garrus - 37, 38, 95

Samantha - 42, 43, 73, 97, 106

Kaidan - 49, 106, 116

Miranda - 54

Kasumi - 55

Doran - 59, 60, 61

Grunt - 66

Fist - 69

Anderson - 71

Elijah Khan - 81, 88

Emily Wong - 93

Jack - 94

EDI - 97, 106, 

Steve - 98, 120

Tali - 101

Aethyta - 51, 57, 106

Dutch smith - 123, 126, 127, 131, 156

Anan T’Mari - 123, 127, 131, 156

Ryder - 123, 128, 133, 135

Drack - 133, 134, 137, 152

Umi Henon - 133, 134, 135, 138

Vetra - 137, 144, 154

Peebee - 137

Sloane - 138

Lexi - 138

Khan Dagher - 141, 143, 147

Kesh - 150

Suvi - 154

Buxil - 156

Niilj - 156

[merakiui]

Thinking of a degen!prefect (ironic I know) that hangs out with Jade on his mountain lover club adventures solely because they're horny....

Like I'm out here tryna suck yo dick, let me on your meaty mushroom 😫 I don't care about your mushroom endeavours.

It isn't long until prefect's cover of being a mountain enthusiast starts to breakdown.

"The Volvariella volvacea is a rather delicious mushroom, but don't get it confused with the toxic Amanita phalloides, bla bla..... Y/n are you listening?" Jade rambles about his mushrooms, until he realized that prefect was daydreaming.

"Uhh that uhhh uhhh mushroom looks pretty edible to me-"

"That is the exact mushroom I was warning you about! Sometimes I wonder if you actually wanted to learn about mushrooms. What is it that you actually want?" Jade interrupts, his interest piqued just as much as he is irritated.

"Err... The sun is setting soon, we should set up the campfire!" Prefect said flustered, desperately trying to change the topic.

"Why are you dodging the question? What is it that you're hiding little prefect?" Jade's pupils start to dilate (could eels do that?!?!)

"Nothing at all!"

"Have I made you uncomfortable?" Jade's voice shows faux concern.

"No, not at all. Now let's get moving."

A few days later, at mostro lounge. Jade sneakily gives prefect a cocktail with high alcohol content, in the guise of a sweet mocktail. Prefect gets drunk just as he plans, he proceeds to interrogate them, not that he minds the fact that they hang out with him.

"So what is it that you have been hiding from me?" Jade questions.

"I wanna have your dick in me shooo bad! I hump m'pillow every night to you! I don't even care abou thoshe shtupid mushwooms! I want you to breed me until I can't think!" Prefect says intoxicated, slurring out those words even.

"Oh my~ what do we have here? That was the reason why you joined me despite having no interest? How amusing!"

Jade is going to have a lot of fun with this, prefect will have a lot of problems to deal with once they sober up.

WOWOWOOOOOOOOOO YES YES OTL

Knowing Jade, as soon as he realizes you're down bad for him he'll tease you about it (just in very roundabout ways). I like to imagine he pretends to be utterly oblivious to your horny grip and the fact that you're always looking at him and not the mushrooms when he's explaining things, how your gaze always gravitates to his lips when he's speaking, how your pupils dilate when you look at him, how your shoulders perk up when he chuckles or smiles at you, how you're always stealing subtle glances at what might be contained in his trousers below the belt hehe. >:)

And he purposely gets close to you on the mountain treks, sliding an arm around you because "careful, the trail is a little steep and uneven here." and he has you hold onto him and he's so close and he's touching you and omg he could have you pressed against the tree right now and !!!!! So many fantasies play through your head. Oh, if only Jade could peer inside your head. He'd love to know what you think of when he does things like this. It's so obviously flirting, but somehow he's smooth enough to make it seem so natural. There's so much sexual tension between the both of you, though. Jade stokes it like it's a fire. <3

Omg and getting you drunk... what if he uses shock the heart on you as well so you'll have no choice but to be completely, drunkenly honest when he pries the truth from you!!!! >0< he makes you spill all of the dirty, little thoughts you have about him, and since he's so shameless it sounds like music to his ears. Aaaaa maybe he's fingering you when he makes you tell him the truth!!! Although it is a little disheartening you aren't a mushroom lover like him. :< he was hoping to share more of his hobby with you... so maybe it's a little upsetting you weren't truly listening to his lectures about mushroom species, but Jade has a fun pop quiz for you! Maybe if you get the answers right he'll let you cum or (better yet) he'll stick it in. <3 hopefully you remembered all that he taught you on those nature hikes. :)

Jade's so annoying, though, because he could spend hours teasing you with foreplay. He's so dedicated to being a nuisance and watching you squirm and beg him in every way that he might not ever end up fucking you. But alcohol always pairs so disastrously with the horny grip, so maybe if you push him down and ride him into tomorrow morning he'll be a little nicer to you. After all, Jade likes unexpected surprises hehe. And it'll be an even crazier unexpected surprise if the pregnancy test comes back positive many weeks later.

[the-jellyfish-graves]

I know you like making fun drinks. Do you ever make hot mocktails/cocktails? It’s getting cold where I live and my fall go to is Apple cider with bourbon… sometimes adding in some cinnamon. But I’m wondering if you have any inspiration you think might be fun to try? Per usual, no pressure if not.

-enby sub

I don’t make many warm alcoholic drinks, but it’s always easy to add a cream liqueur of any kind into hot chocolate. Because I really don’t know that many actual cocktails, let alone hot ones, I don’t really have much knowledge on making mocktails. (I can mix nonalcoholic drinks, though)

However, since I had time, and I can handle 1 drink, I checked my options and put something together specifically for you. (I had a lot of fun, too, so no worries)

I’m a big fan of tea, and milk tea is also pretty good, so that’s what I aimed for. Let’s refer to this drink as an extra dirty chai.

4oz chai tea*

0.5 tsp espresso powder

2oz almond milk

0.5oz cinnamon amaretto**

0.5oz spiced vanilla whiskey**

0.5oz horchata cream liqueur**

0.5oz honey liqueur

(optional) fresh ground black pepper

*I used Mexican Hot Chocolate chai, but any chai will work.

** regular/plain can be substituted. The spices won’t be as strong.

Brew the chai as instructed and mix espresso powder into the tea. You should probably heat the milk; I didn’t, and the drink wasn’t as warm as I would have hoped. Strain if needed, mix everything into the cup, and give it a few stirs. If you want it extra sweet, you could add maple syrup or honey to taste or top it with cold foam or whipped cream. If doing the former, add it directly into the hot chai.

Honestly, it turned out pretty damn good, so if you try it (let me know), and hopefully you’ll like it or it will inspire something.

[thehighconfectionary]

5 Reasons Why Strawberry Lemonade is the Perfect Summer Drink

When summer hits, there’s nothing quite like a refreshing drink to cool you down. While there are plenty of options out there, strawberry lemonade stands out as a top contender. Why, you ask? Let’s dive into the five reasons why strawberry lemonade is the perfect summer drink.

The Refreshing Taste of Strawberry Lemonade

The Balance of Sweet and Tart

Strawberry lemonade strikes the perfect balance between sweet and tart.

Natural Sweetness from Strawberries

Strawberries bring a natural sweetness that feels light and refreshing. Unlike artificial sweeteners, the sweetness from strawberries feels more wholesome and satisfying. You get the delightful taste of summer with every sip.

The Zesty Punch of Lemon

On the flip side, lemons add that essential zesty punch. The tartness from the lemons complements the sweetness of the strawberries, creating a harmonious blend that’s neither too sweet nor too sour. It’s a flavor profile that keeps your taste buds engaged and refreshed.

Nutritional Benefits of Strawberry Lemonade

Rich in Vitamins and Antioxidants

Strawberry lemonade isn’t just tasty; it’s also packed with nutritional benefits.

Vitamin C Boost from Lemons

Lemons are famous for their high vitamin C content, which is great for boosting your immune system. A single glass of strawberry lemonade can provide a significant portion of your daily vitamin C requirement.

Antioxidants from Strawberries

Strawberries are loaded with antioxidants, which help fight free radicals in your body. These antioxidants can improve your skin health, reduce inflammation, and even lower your risk of chronic diseases.

Hydration and Electrolytes

Staying hydrated in summer is crucial, and strawberry lemonade can help with that too.

Importance of Staying Hydrated in Summer

Hydration is key to keeping your body functioning properly, especially in the heat. Strawberry lemonade is a delicious way to ensure you’re getting enough fluids.

Natural Electrolytes in Lemons

Lemons contain natural electrolytes like potassium, which help maintain the balance of fluids in your body. This makes strawberry lemonade a great choice for rehydration after a hot day or a workout.

Easy to Make and Customize

One of the best things about strawberry lemonade is how easy it is to make and customize.

Simple Ingredients and Quick Preparation

You don’t need a lot of ingredients or equipment to make strawberry lemonade.

Basic Recipe Overview

All you need are fresh strawberries, lemons, water, and a bit of sugar. Blend the strawberries, squeeze the lemons, mix everything together, and you’re done!

Minimal Equipment Needed

A blender, a strainer, and a pitcher are pretty much all you need. This makes it an accessible recipe for anyone.

Endless Customization Options

Strawberry lemonade is incredibly versatile.

Adding Herbs and Spices

You can add herbs like mint or basil for an extra layer of flavor. Spices like ginger or a hint of cayenne can also give your lemonade a unique twist.

Making It a Cocktail or Mocktail

Want to make it more interesting? Add a splash of vodka or rum for an adult version. For a non-alcoholic twist, try adding sparkling water for a fizzy delight.

Perfect for Any Occasion

Strawberry lemonade fits seamlessly into any summer occasion.

Family Gatherings and BBQs

It’s a hit with kids and adults alike.

Crowd-Pleaser for All Ages

Everyone loves a good glass of strawberry lemonade, making it a perfect choice for family gatherings and BBQs.

Easy to Serve in Large Batches

You can easily make large batches, which is great for serving a crowd.

Romantic Picnics and Date Nights

It also adds a special touch to more intimate settings.

Adding a Romantic Touch

Serve it in fancy glasses with a garnish of fresh strawberries and lemon slices. It’s a simple way to elevate your picnic or date night.

Pairing with Picnic Foods

Strawberry lemonade pairs well with a variety of picnic foods, from sandwiches to salads, making it a versatile choice for outdoor dining.

Healthier Alternative to Sugary Drinks

If you’re looking for a healthier drink option, strawberry lemonade has you covered.

Lower in Sugar Compared to Sodas

Sodas are loaded with added sugars, but strawberry lemonade can be made with minimal or no added sugar.

Natural Sweetness Without Added Sugars

Using the natural sweetness of strawberries means you don’t need to rely on added sugars to make your drink delicious.

Control Over Sugar Levels

You can control exactly how much sugar goes into your lemonade, making it as sweet or as tart as you like.

Fewer Calories, More Flavor

Strawberry lemonade offers a satisfying flavor without the calorie overload.

Satisfying Without the Guilt

It’s refreshing and flavorful, but without the guilt that comes with high-calorie drinks.

Enhancing Flavor Without Extra Calories

You can enhance the flavor with natural ingredients like herbs and spices, which don’t add extra calories.

Discover the Ultimate Summer Refreshment with High Confectionary Company

Looking for the finest ingredients to make your strawberry lemonade even more special? Look no further than High Confectionary Company. We offer the freshest strawberries and the juiciest lemons, ensuring that every sip of your homemade lemonade is bursting with natural flavors. Our commitment to quality and taste means you get the best products for your culinary creations. Make your summer unforgettable with High Confectionary Company—where excellence meets flavor.

FAQs

Can I use frozen strawberries instead of fresh ones?

Yes, frozen strawberries work just as well. Just make sure to thaw them a bit before blending.

How long can I store strawberry lemonade in the fridge?

You can store it for up to three days. Just give it a good stir before serving.

Can I make strawberry lemonade without added sugar?

Absolutely! You can use natural sweeteners like honey or stevia, or skip the sweetener altogether if you prefer a tarter taste.

What are some good herbs to add to strawberry lemonade?

Mint and basil are great choices. They add a fresh, aromatic flavor that complements the strawberries and lemons.

How can I make strawberry lemonade more fizzy?

You can add sparkling water or club soda to give it a fizzy kick. Just mix it in right before serving to keep the bubbles fresh.

[measlyfurball13]

OP made me think of various drinking headcanons for the Sonic crew as adults, so here goes.

(The characters as I have depicted them in this post are of legal drinking age! I have made various headcanons of Sonic characters as adults before and the same logic applies here. I do not condone underage drinking. I also do not condone binge drinking. Please drink responsibly.)

Sonic- either wants a light beer to sip on or he appreciates the simplicity of a single shot that will get you fucked beyond recognition in no time. Someone bought him everclear as a joke. He's a "hold my beer" daredevil when tipsy. He becomes a total mom friend while drunk.

Tails- good ol' moscow mule. The more mint in it the better. Not usually much of a drinker, and he often volunteers to be the designated driver.

Amy- the fruitiest strawberry slushy with enough alcohol hidden in it to tranquilize a horse (joking, but you get the idea). I think she enjoys making everyone cutesy cocktails. Can be a bit of a drink pusher if you get her going, but also knows when to back off.

Knuckles- I think he would appreciate a good mead. He also goes for fruit wines. His alcohol tolerance is pretty low- do not mention the Sangria Incident. Rouge will never let him live that down.

Shadow- Rarely gets drunk, and doesn't get drunk easily, since his tolerance is through the roof. When he's just looking for something to enjoy, I think he enjoys tasting different hard alcohols. When he's looking for more of a buzz, he borrows some of Amy's slushy.

Rouge- red wine. duh. Also goes for a good ol' fashioned once in a while. She also appreciates the tasting aspect of various wines and also whiskies. She steals really expensive bottles of both and then holds covert tasting parties for whoever is interested.

Omega- jaeger bomb. No need for elaboration.

Silver- sober, for various reasons both health-related, power-related, and mental health-related. No one judges him for it. He does appreciate a good non-alcoholic cider! And Amy likes making him cute mocktails.

Blaze- I think she likes floral liquors like elderflower and creme de violette! She's down for an herbal gin and tonic any day. She was also a victim of the Sangria Incident.

Charmy- as the youngest member of the crew to turn of age, this son of a bitch likes red bull cocktails. He's also the only one who can choke down a long island ice tea. Makes it his mission to finish off wounded soldiers at any party he's at. When he gets a bit older and calms down a bit, I think he'd like fruited craft beers.

Espio- a purveyor of fine sakes. If he invites you to taste sake with him, that's the highest compliment. More casually, he likes korean rice beers!

Vector- He's the kind of guy who gets a little embarrassed when ordering margaritas and mai tais, but he loves them so much, so it's worth it. Also becomes the mom friend while drunk. Will also volunteer to be the designated driver when he's not drinking.

Vanilla- was sober when Cream was younger, but now that Cream has grown up she's getting back into wine tasting. Rouge is helping her with that.

Cream- doesn't drink too much but will make an exception for any cocktails her friends make her. Very fond of Amy's spin on a white russian and Blaze's take on an aviation.

Eggman- sober. Doesn't drink because he's suuuuuuper embarrassed by the thought of being mentally impaired in the slightest. Back in his college days he railed the jaeger bombs though.

Why did we all decide that Rouge drinks red wine? I mean I agree, but it's so ubiquitous I'm surprised we can all agree on something.

[downtoearthmarkets]

Summer evening happy hours spent at home are a great opportunity to get in touch with your inner mixologist and express some creative liquid license after the clock strikes 5:00pm. When it comes to whipping up inventive cocktails and mocktails in the comfort of your own kitchen, your tabula rasa doesn’t have to be limited to deciding on the type of drink to prepare and the glassware to serve it in. In fact, the key to elevating your summertime libations, and making them look and taste that much more fabulous, is the addition of artful and appetizing garnishes. Here are some suggestions for incorporating the bounty of seasonal produce currently available in the farmers market into your next round of drinks while introducing a dash of nutritional goodness to boot.

Bloody Mary Skewers Bloody marys have a long and rich history of glamourous and next-level garnish. A Parisian bartender named Fernand Petiot claimed to have invented the bloody mary in 1921 when he spontaneously poured vodka and tomato juice together with a spritz of lemon juice. A celery stick was allegedly added to the mix after a bartender in Chicago forgot to give a patron a swizzle stick and grabbed a nearby stem of celery to stir the drink with. Since that defining moment, this brunchtime cocktail favorite has gone on to sport a range of over-the-top garnishes such as bacon, pizza, deep-fried chicken and even entire cheeseburgers.

As a fan of all things savory and spicy, I’ve been a longtime connoisseur of bloody marys and have enjoyed them in many iterations and with many different garnishes. However, my all-time favorite is a virgin version made with Clamato (clam juice and tomato juice combo) that pairs beautifully with a poached shrimp skewer. Not only can it be classified as healthy, especially when served with little to no alcohol, it goes to bat by satisfying your deepest umami cravings.

To assemble the seafood garnish, simply thread the following ingredients onto a long (6-8”) skewer which you can either immerse in the drink or artfully balance across the rim for extra aesthetic oomph:

2 poached shrimp (P & S Seafood)

1-2 pimento stuffed olives (Dr. Pickle)

1 fresh cherry tomato (Newgate Farms)

1 whole pepperoncini pepper (Dr. Pickle)

Cucumber Ribbons Refreshing cucumbers enter the farmers market by early August and you can easily find them at farmstalls through late October. Cucumber ribbons will add an overtone of freshness, visual effect and pop of color to an array of summery cocktails such as gin & tonics, vodka collins, mojitos and Pimm’s cups. You can use them to line the inside of a glass, twist them into spirals and swirls, weave them together, snake them onto a cocktail pick and much more. Aside from the cucumber itself, a paring knife and standard potato peeler are all you need to make these pretty cocktail-enhancing ribbons:

Trim both ends from a whole cucumber with the paring knife.

Peel a sliver of skin from the cucumber and discard.

Along the same path, peel again, down the length of the cucumber. You should get a long tongue-shaped strip that has dark green skin running down both sides and pale green flesh in the middle.

Repeat until you reach the seeds (which you want to avoid), turn the cucumber, and repeat on the other sides. Discard the core.

Flavored Ice Flavored ice cubes, or ‘designer ice cubes’ as they’re being referred to amongst trendsetters, have taken social media platforms by storm this summer! The hashtag #flavoredicecubes has thousands of views on TikTok with instructional videos like this one accruing over a million likes. Despite the garnished hype, it’s really quite simple to transform standard frozen cubes from boring to brilliant. Simply purchase some summer fruit such as strawberries, peaches, melon, blueberries, apples, blackberries and raspberries at the farmers market. Chop up larger fruit into smaller pieces, fill around fifty percent of each ice tray cavity with fruit, pour enough water over the tray to fill it, cover the tray and place it in the freezer. Leafy fresh herbs such as basil, sage and mint as well as sprigs of rosemary and thyme can also be used to create beautifully artful cubes. Voila, you’ve made your very own designer ice! Drop your flavor infused cubes into a chilled glass of rosé, summery spritz, or whichever cocktails and mocktails they pair best with, and enjoy!

[mariinara]

Oh my God I didn't realize you're taking requests! Could you do any hcs for being married to Sam? 🥺

A/N: I'm taking ALL the requests. Bring it on. I love writing those. I love seeing your reactions. Gives me a reason to live.

BEING MARRIED TO SAM DRAKE WOULD INCLUDE:

-Breakfast in bed from both of you. The person who wakes up before the other is the one to cook a nice breakfast to share in bed.

-Lots of random dancing in the living room when music is turned on, even if one of you is busy doing something.

-So much traveling! Everywhere! Both of you can barely stay in one spot and change destinations every two weeks during the summer.

-Sam makes hella good drinks– be it cocktails or mocktails, he excels and it helps set the mood for the nights you stay in together.

-Date night every Friday and both of you are in fancy clothes but you're sitting on a bench on the curb eating Taco Bell or McDonalds and talking like you're still getting to know each other.

-Sam getting excited when he comes back home and says "Honey, I'm home!" because he's always wanted to say that and you being the person he gets to say that to made him the giddiest man alive.

-Morning sex. So much morning sex. Especially before both of you go off to work.

-He's an adrenaline junkie so action movies and amusement parks once every month. You just spend the whole day there.

-Notes EVERYWHERE. On the fridge, your pillows, your nightstand, the bathroom mirror, or in the kitchen cabinet. They include jokes, innuendos, or reminders of love.

-Y'all don't wear your rings around your finger, you wear it in a necklace around your necks.

-Did I mention sex? He loves having sex with you. Loves getting to see your pretty face react to different things every single day.

-Pillow-talks. So much of them. You two just lay on your bed, cuddling, in the dark, just talking to each other about the most random of things. Discussing movies or books or historical figures or even music.

-Ass squeezes and slaps as he walks past behind you.

-Dramatic kisses from him– as in he just lets out a loud 'MWAH' when kissing you.

-He gets baby fever all the time but denies it when you face him with it, all flustered and fidgety.

-Him going "Aww, look at the baby. Hi, baby." all the time in public.

-Goes crazy over baby clothes sometimes cause of how small they are. Literally just loses his entire mind.

-He gets both a dog and a cat because he has so much love for both species and he works so hard to have them get along. He obviously succeeds.

-Morning jogging! Even if you don't want to, he drags you out of bed to do it every morning.

-Showers together! Sometimes. You both like your privacy but Sam claims he likes "saving the water bills".

-Funny how it ends up with you up against the shower wall every time.

-He takes such good care of you when you're on your period or had just fallen ill. Takes care of everything. Provides you with your favorite food. Handles the housework very well.

-He actually goes through the dishes very quickly.

-Being married to Sam, overall, is a WHOLEASS adventure. There's always more to him. He's always surprising you with new things and you're constantly learning new things about him because he's just that layered.

-Oh. He also cries during certain romantic comedies but you didn't hear that from me.

[absentia-if]

You answered an ask that said M talks about being in love with MC or at least liking MC more than they let on when theyre drunk, does that make them more talkative than normal when they drink or is it in a sad way? It's kinda cute thinking M all red faced and talking positively about MC for once and all the sober people are slightly confused because they know of their rivalry. 😅

Now I want to know how the ROs act when they're drunk/tipsy or if they prefer being sober/dislike drinking alcohol because I know not every character/person drinks for varying reasons.

M is much more open about their feelings when they’re drunk; as they don’t really stonewall themselves when they’re in that mindset. So, yes, M is a lot more “soft”, I guess, when they’ve been drinking. They pretty much act how they’d act when they’re deep in the relationship stage.

———————

Kade/Kara: They don’t really like drinking. When the MC first disappeared they went down the same road that Oliver went down; to the point where they almost lost their job. Knowing that— seeing how much their stupor was affecting the people they love— they pulled themselves back and haven’t drunk any alcohol since. At the very most they’d have a few sips of wine (even that is stretching it though).

Michael/Margot: You all know how M acts but they usually only drink to get through family dinners or reunions. They can handle their alcohol very well and don’t like to overdo it to the point where they do get drunk; except in certain circumstances. They usually stick to beer (on the rare occasion), wine (red or white), or whiskey. (Possibly even vodka if it’s been chilled.)

Blaine/Blaire: Doesn’t really drink that often. As they can do random things when they’re inebriated— K has a story that they remember about that very thing from college— but when they do drink they mainly stick to the drinks that don’t actually taste like alcohol; fruity cocktails and margaritas. If they don’t feel like drinking they’ll stick with mocktails.

Wren/Wynn: They get really introspective when they get drunk, which is part of the reason they don’t drink that often. Though they don’t have any problem with popping open a beer and enjoying a good game after dinner. It’s something that’s never truly bothered them.

Nicholas/Natalie: They don’t like the taste of alcohol at all (for the majority of drinks). Will not drink it at all— unless it’s a specific type that M brings— because the majority of it leaves a bad taste in their mouth. They’re a lot louder, the few times they’ve gotten drunk, then they normally would be. So that’s something to see if they’d ever get drunk around you.

[hvneymelons]

Dante brought his drink back up for another sip, “Rum and I believe also vodka, if I’m not mistaken.” He hadn’t paid too much attention but had been warned of the contents. It was pretty though, and pretty drinks make for easy and simple conversation. “It’s good isn’t it?” He asked, as he took some time to think about where exactly they could go. “I think there’s a petting area over there.” Dante pointed in the direction, “Or maybe we go karaoke? That sounds fun doesn’t it?” Anything with music was right up Dante’s alley, obviously, but he wanted to make sure they did something they both wanted to. Even if he would be just fine with anything at all so long as the vibe was there. “We can grab some tacos, too. Have you eaten?” The possibilities were endless. Dante himself hadn’t eaten since the morning, but that was normal for him during a performing night. Alcohol wasn’t something that he drank very often so a drink or two was more than enough to get him through most of the day. Even the one he held now would probably last him most of the day, but since everyone around was drinking he took it upon himself to entertain one cocktail as well. “Actually, this would be my first one today.” he replies chuckling as he did, “How about you? I'll probably just do a mocktail after this."

danika  has  been  to  her  fair  share  of  pride  events  in  new  york  city  come  june  each  year  and  it  was  truly  something  she  looked  forward  to.  the  overall  environment  was  always  one  of  acceptance  and  joy  —    just  people  looking  to  enjoy  themselves  in  a  place  where  they  were  in  a  community  of  others  who  understood.  it  took  danika  some  time  to  fully  be  loud  and  proud  of  her  own  bisexuality  after  some  choice  belittling  comments  from  old  exes  who  were  irrelevant  and  thought  it  was  a  phase.  blue  harbor  is  certainly  not  new  york  city  …  it’s  much  smaller  for  starters,  and  danika  can’t  help  but  feel  a  little  homesick,  longing  for  the  familiarity  of  pride  in  new  york.  but  she  has  to  suck  it  up  ‘cause  she’s  not  here  to  kill  her  own  vibe  or  anyone  else’s  and  especially  not  when  the  event  is  meant  to  be  one  of  happiness.  there’s  no  time  like  the  present,  right  ??  and  what  better  way  to  get  more  familiar  with  the  people  in  town  then  join  in  on  the  fun  ??  it’s  why  she  accepts  the  drink  from  whoever’s  beside  her,  already  a  little  loose  from  a  shot  of  liquid  confidence  a  couple  minutes  prior.  “i  was  about  to  ask  you  the  same  thing,”  danika  answers  with  a  laugh  and  accepts  the  offered  drink.  “you  probably  know  better  than  i  do  where  the  fun  is.”  she  takes  a  sip  from  the  drink  and  her  nose  immediately  scrunches.  “is  that  rum  ??  i  wasn’t  expecting  that  from  a  drink  that  looks  like  you  just  mushed  different  colored  play-do’s  together.  kind  of  reminds  me  of  one  of  those  secret  menu  starbucks  drinks.”  despite  her  commentary,  danika  takes  another  slip,  mindful  to  pace  herself  according  to  his  suggestion.  “what  number  drink  is  that  for  you  ??”

[snackhobi]

pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut

summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), cursing, minor consumption of alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight praise kink, light dom/sub undertones if you squint ig (reader is kind of subby)

– –

Throughout the years of your life, you've learned a few things. Some of them are pretty obvious (buying suspiciously cheap sushi from a petrol station is like playing Russian Roulette with food poisoning and diarrhoea), some of them are less so (just because something is 'on sale' doesn't actually mean that it's cheaper if they'd increased the overall price beforehand), but one thing that you're only just starting to learn is that— for all that Jimin says otherwise— blind dates will always stand you up.

jiminnie is he there yet??

you to my entire lack of surprise, no. i'm starting to wonder if this 'hoseok-hyung' of yours even exists tbh i should have been suspicious from the second you called him a 'friend' bc that implies that you HAVE friends

jiminnie ok RUDE. we're friends??

you suddenly i can't read

The two of you had been outrageously drunk after a night out on the town, once, and Jungkook had come to collect his tipsy boyfriend, and you'd seen the fond way he'd watched Jimin despite his messy behaviour— how he'd given Jimin a piggyback even though it must have been hard with the way Jimin had been squirming and laughing and kicking his legs back and forth— and your heart had squeezed tight in your chest. (You'd been so drunk.)

It had honestly been a slip of the tongue when you'd revealed to Jimin that you were kind of maybe feeling somewhat lonely, a little bit, potentially. You'd had one night stands and short flings but it's been a long time since you've been in an actual relationship, a long time since you've really clicked with someone. Maybe part of you had been missing it, that connection with another person. Normally you're fine with being single, but Jungkook and Jimin are so in love that it spills out from them and you guess in the moment you'd wanted to feel that, too.

You blame the alcohol. You also blame your own loose lips. And Jimin, you blame him too, for persuading you to go clubbing in the first place. You don't even remember what you'd said, waking up with a headache the weight and size of a tectonic plate, groaning at the pain of the morning light stabbing into your eyes, but with no recollection of your admittance that maybe you were tired of being single. Your best friend, however— despite having drunk more than you— could recall the previous night with crystalline clarity, much to your horror and embarrassment. And, because Jimin is Jimin, he'd latched onto what you'd said with the tenacity of a dog with a bone.

Fast forward to where you're sitting now, on yet another arranged date that he's planned for you— and once again, you've been stood up.

you i'm starting to wonder if any of the people you've tried to set me up with are even real

jiminnie omg they ARE you had a nice time with lisa??

Okay, so you hadn't been stood up for every date. Lisa had been the only person who'd shown up, and she was cute and friendly and you got on like a house on fire, but you'd very quickly found out that she was actually head over heels for her best friend Jennie. You being you, your first date had rapidly turned into you giving your new friend a pep-talk and hyping her up— and suffice to say you've been having weekly girl's brunches with Lisa and her now-girlfriend Jennie ever since. So, yes, technically you haven't been stood up every time, but still.

you yes, my ideal first date involves telling the other person that their best friend is definitely in love with them too :))

jiminnie I'VE ALREADY SAID THAT I'M SORRY :(

you LMAO it's fine, it's always nice to make friends but seriously minnie, like,, if your friends are going to stand me up, could you at least have had the decency to organise the date somewhere less fancy? i spent ages getting ready and noah fence it kind of feels like i just wasted a bunch of my time,,

Jimin doesn't fuck around. From the outside the bar, Dionysus, exudes a quiet aura of exclusivity. Inside, however, it has a surprisingly understated atmosphere despite its namesake being the Grecian god of Getting Turnt, the sleek interior paired with soft lighting and stylish fixtures, elegant. 

Either way, it's the kind of place that warrants you actually pulling out the stops with your outfit and makeup; you rarely have a reason to doll yourself up like this and it makes a nice change of pace, but it seems like you shouldn't have bothered. What's the point in putting on a cute dress and nice heels, or doing your hair and opening your expensive Too Faced eyeshadow palette for the first time, if you're just going to be sitting alone at a bar all night? At least you don't stick out, which is good, you guess.

You are the only person who's alone, though. It's midweek and everyone else is seated around one of the tables, couples and groups that are engaged in quiet discussion or watching the show— there's a small stage where there's a quartet performing live music— but you're perched on one of the barstools, tapping away at your phone, alone. If anyone were to pay any attention it would be obvious that you've been stood up, but they're all too busy having an enjoyable evening to spare a glance at the girl sitting by herself at the bar.

The only person who's paying attention to you is the bartender. He's clearly good at his job, keeping an eye on you and making you feel welcome without seeming like he's hovering; he doesn't act like you're being an inconvenience, but you give him a hefty tip each time you order a new drink anyway. Hoseok might not be turning up tonight but if you've gone to the effort of dressing this nicely and getting a taxi here then goddamn you're going to make the most of it.

It takes forty two minutes and three virgin cocktails before the handsome bartender speaks to you, saying something beyond the customary back and forth you've had so far as he hands you your next mocktail. 

"Are your friends usually this late?"

You let out a little huff of laughter. "Something like that." Normally you'd be more hesitant to speak to a stranger like this, but the bartender's eyes are warm and his smile seems genuine and from what you can tell, he's just making that sure you're okay. "Seems like it'll just be me for tonight."

"You're welcome to stay and wait as long as you like," he says, and you can't help but quirk a grin at him.

"I bet you say that to all the paying customers."

He laughs and raises his hands in surrender. "You got me." And then: "If you want another drink, just give me a shout. I'm Seokjin, but everyone calls me Jin."

"As in, Jin and tonic?" You smile. "Sure. I'll be sure to remember that. I'm Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, Y/n." Jin gives you a grin before disappearing down the other side of the bar to make drinks for some other customers. Your own smile slowly fades, and then turns into a frown, eyes landing on the clock on the wall; Hoseok is forty five minutes late at this point. (You know he's not going to show.) It's been so long that the musicians on the stage have finished their set and are leaving, a different performer about to step on, and you sigh. You'll finish this last drink and then you'll go.

You use your straw to stir the mint leaves and ice cubes around, muddling the flavours in your glass. You haven't really been paying attention to the music before now; you couldn't name the songs that have been performed so far, but they're common enough that you'd recognised the sound of them, the sort of music that most people could hum along to but probably wouldn't know the origin of. Easy listening. Pleasant, but nothing new. It's clearly more about setting a nice backdrop to the bar rather than music for music's sake. A background noise, rather than acting as the focal point of the bar.

You assume this is going to be the case for the next musician, and so you barely pay any mind as the he takes to the stage alone; you're looking down at your glass as he sits at the piano and puts his feet on the pedals and places his hands on the keys, but then, he starts to play.

Your eyes snap up. A chord hangs in the air, extended, haunting; a crescendo into a light melody; the chords dip, waters dark and deep while he weaves the higher notes with infinite softness, ebbing notes that fade into each other, his fingers dancing across the keys with grace and ease. You notice with a throb in your chest that he has no sheet music. He's pulling this music from inside him, his mind, entirely from his own memory.

His eyes are cast down as he watches his hands, but you can see how they slip shut whenever he tilts his head back, fringe hanging over them. His hair is bleached blond but he clearly hasn't been maintaining the look, with dark roots starting to show through. His posture is horrible, his spine a little curved as he slouches forward, and he's not dressed as sharply as the other musicians had been— there's no tie around his neck and he has a multitude of earrings in, rings on his fingers, changing his outfit into something a little messy and different and entirely unique.

He's fucking breathtaking.

Without realising, you've swivelled away from the bar to watch him. Your drink is still clutched in your hand but you pay it no mind, condensation gathering on the cold glass and dripping down your fingers the longer you sit there, ice cubes melting as he finishes his first song and moves onto the next. Same as the first, you don't recognise it, the melody echoing deep in your chest, speaking of some feeling that you can't put a name to, each sliding arpeggio and chord reaching inside you and hanging there, little glowing droplets that shine out like moonlight.

Each of his pieces are entirely different and yet they all feel like him, somehow. Strong and soft and lovely and aching. The water from your glass has pitter-pattered onto your lap, darkening the fabric of your dress in some nameless constellation, but you don't notice. Your world has narrowed down to: the sound of his music, the motions of his hands, the way he bends into the notes, him. 

Your eyes trace his profile, the cat-like eyes, the round of his nose, the pout of his lips, falling into the way he lifts his chin and tilts his head; thoughtless, gorgeous.

You don't realise that it's over until it's over. The final notes hang in the air, crystallising, and then they fade. He finishes with little fanfare, tilting a polite nod at the audience that claps for him, and then he slips off the stage and is gone just as quickly as he had come. You blink, coming back to yourself; you feel like you're rising out of deep water, motions slow and heavy, and you don't know how long you've been sitting there, entirely entranced. You'd been too distracted to clap. You'd just sat and watched in silence as he'd turned to leave, barely sparing the room a glance.

"Good, isn't he?"

Normally you would have startled at Jin's sudden appearance. Instead you just blink again, still trying to shake off the daze you've found yourself in. "Yeah." Your voice is hoarse. You clear your throat and suck in a breath and put your drink down, dripping wetness that leaves a ring on the smooth wood of the bar, and try to speak normally this time, willing your voice to be level. "Yes. He's very good."

"Yoongi is here at the same time every week," Jin supplies, tone conversational, like he's just having a regular chat. Yoongi. His name is Yoongi. You wonder if Jin can hear how your heart is pounding, the galloping hooves of a wild horse that tumble in your chest. You try to keep your expression stoic as you look at him, scared that he'll be able to read what's written across your face— but he's smiling at you in the same way as before. Just a barkeeper who's trying to get a return customer. (Although, you'd swear there was a glint in his eye for the briefest moment, but then it's gone.) "He changes the set each time, if you're interested in coming back to hear something new."

Your mouth feels dry and you swallow, trying to wet your lips. Dionysus is too fancy of a place to ask customers for tips for the musicians, but— "Can I buy him a drink?"

Jin cocks his head at you. "A drink? For Yoongi?"

"Yes," you say. You feel a little shy when you spot his expression, biting your lip. "I just really enjoyed the music, and I'd like to tip him somehow? Is that a normal thing that people do?"

Jin pauses, and then smiles. This smile is a little wider than the ones he's given you before, different, but he seems pleased. "Who cares about what's normal? I'll get a drink to him. What would you like?"

"Um, whatever he prefers," you say. You figure that Jin would have a better idea about what that is than you, which is proven true by his almost instantaneous reply.

"He likes red wine, or whisky, neat. I think tonight is a whisky kind of night." He's already going through the motions of putting the drink together, and you slide him money as he begins to pour. You know nothing about Yoongi but you can't help but feel like the drink suits him— simple, classic, masculine. "Do you want me to pass on a message for you?"

"Um, you can just say that it's from someone who enjoyed the music, I guess?" You giggle a little, feeling awkward and off balance. Jin is looking at you like he's expecting you to say something else, but you just want to express your enjoyment of Yoongi's music and nothing more. You don't— you don't want to be weird, you just like the sound of his piano playing.

Jin disappears into the back with the glass of whisky, and you finish the watery remnants of your drink before you leave, ice cubes completely melted in the— wow— forty minutes that Yoongi had been playing. It hadn't felt that long at all.

It's not until you're stepping through your front door that you realise you haven't looked at your phone since before the beginning of Yoongi's set. Jimin's messages have been changing from apologetic to concerned to downright frantic.

jiminnie Y/N BLINK TWICE IF YOU NEED HELP

you how many times should i blink if i don't need help?

jiminnie omg you're ALIVE where were you?? i was starting to get worried

you sorry i got distracted! but i'm fine, i'm at home hoseok never showed

jiminnie yeah i know :(( he messaged me saying he had an emergency and couldn't make it tonight but he's free this weekend??

you … remember when i said that this was the last blind date i was going to go on?

jiminnie it doesn't count as a date if hyung never turned up!!!

you that isn't true and you know it omg minnie… i appreciate what you're trying to do but pls bb. let it rest

jiminnie i just want you to be happy :((

you i don't have to be in a relationship to be happy

jiminnie you said you were lonely!

you omg i was DRUNK let it GO besides being stood up by multiple blind dates isn't going to help me feel less lonely lmao i get that you're happy in your relationship with kookie and you want to spread that happiness but you don't have to!! i'm fine!! yeah i get lonely sometimes but what single person doesn't?? i'm happy being by myself hhhhh

jiminnie fine :(( but if you change your mind, hobi-hyung would still love to meet you!

As you kick off your heels, humming a bar of Yoongi's music to yourself, you think that Hoseok probably shouldn't bother holding his breath.

(That night, when you sleep, you dream of dark eyes and the press of a sinfully perfect cupid's bow against your own lips, a pair of large hands drawing noises from you like a glissando, rings cool against your heated skin.)

–

Wednesday nights become a ritual of sorts. You get dressed, do your hair, match your makeup to your outfit and shoes, coordinating your look into something that doesn't look out of place in Dionysus before you hop into a taxi and make your way to the bar.

You're a firm regular by now. Your seat has become just that, your seat, the same one you'd been sitting in the first time you'd been there; it's towards the dimmer lights at the back and so you're sitting further away from the stage than you might like, but at least you can see the whole room from here. You turn up twenty minutes before Yoongi's set and Jin always greets you warmly when he sees you: you've quickly come to enjoy your chats. Jin is always unashamedly himself and the two of you joke and laugh as he works, but he always knows to leave you alone as soon as Yoongi steps onto the stage. 

For the next forty minutes the rest of the world fades away as you drink Yoongi and his music in, listen to the lilting notes he coaxes out of the piano, watch how his fingers rest on each key before he slides into his next piece, reverent.

You never ever explicitly mention Yoongi in your conversations with Jin, though. The bartender seems to bring the musician up anyway; he does it smoothly, in a way that's utterly casual, and he seems to know a surprising amount about someone who is, by all accounts, a very private person. (You're not complaining about the fact that you now know that Yoongi wears Kumamon slippers because his feet get cold easily— "he's cold blooded, like a lizard," apparently— but you do wonder how Jin knows that.)

The Yoongi that Jin describes is just as beautiful as the man you see on stage, but less mysterious, less distant— and yet he still intimidates you. 

Jin might be his friend but to you Yoongi is unapproachable. Untouchable. To him you're just a nameless face in the audience, nothing more. His eyes will slide across the room before he starts his performance, but he never seems to notice you; it's no surprise, sitting where you do, in an area of relative darkness in comparison to the rest of the bar, and once he sits down he only looks at the piano under his hands. He has no eyes for anything else. You're far enough away and his lashes are cast so low that even when his eyes are open it's hard for you to see where he's looking, and the shadow of his fringe hides how his pupils scan his hands as he plays, anyway.

Every week, when the set draws to a close, Jin is already pouring Yoongi's whisky or wine and you slide him the exact amount of change. Every week, Jin asks if you want to pass on a message, and every week, you say the same thing: that it's from someone who enjoyed the music. And that's that. Jin will disappear to give Yoongi his drink and you'll finish your own drink in quiet solitude before you slide off your barstool to go home.

(The only thing that's changed over the weeks is that the music Yoongi plays seems to be a little lighter and— dare you say— happier? He still looks down at the piano with the same intensity, still lays his hands on the keys with the same delicate pressing weight before he begins to play— but with some songs he seems to be teasing the music out, flirting with each note, eyelashes fluttering as he lifts his chin and moves his hands.

You're not a musician by any means, so you don't know how to describe it with any sort of accuracy or terminology, but to you it's like the deep waters of Yoongi's music have been cut through with light, beams of sun rippling through the dark blue. You don't know what's caused this change, the slow uplift in his mood throughout the weeks, but you hope he manages to keep hold of it, whatever it is.)

Between work and studying and volunteering and making time to see friends, you don't often have time entirely to yourself, and so Wednesday nights are a rare moment of peace during your otherwise busy week. That's why when Jimin says that he's had to rearrange your weekly film night to Wednesday— because he and Jungkook are going down to Busan to see each other's families this weekend— you decline. 

Jimin is rendered speechless and demands to know why.

"I'm busy," is your answer. Jimin doesn't buy it.

"You're never too busy for movie night," he says. "Wednesday is the only night we're all free."

"Well, I'm not free, Minnie. Sorry," you say. His head is in your lap, your fingers gently stroking his hair, and you can easily see the way his face contorts with disbelief as he stares up at you.

"Do you hear that, babe? Y/n is too busy for our weekly tradition." Jimin sounds scandalised.

Jimin is stretched out between the two of you— while his head is in your lap, his feet are in Jungkook's, the younger man idly massaging his boyfriend's ankles and feet. "Yes, babe, I heard," Jungkook says, indulgent.

"What's more important than movie night?" Jimin lifts one of his legs and Jungkook turns his attention to that one, digging his fingers into the arch of Jimin's foot. Jimin sighs in relief, but then turns the full force of his stare back at you. "We were going to watch Spirited Away. You love Spirited Away."

"I'm just busy," you say, and that had been your mistake. You should have had some sort of credible reason but you hadn't been prepared, and while he hadn't made it obvious at the time, Jimin had latched onto your vague excuse, sniffing out weakness like a shark with blood in the water. If you'd been paying attention you'd have noticed, but you hadn't paid attention and so you hadn't noticed. (Whoops.)

And so, Wednesday night that week is the same as always; Yoongi plays his music, you fall a little bit more in love, and pass your compliments to him with Jin as the mouthpiece. You go home, wash your makeup off, and arch into the touch of your own hand while imagining it's someone else's fingers sliding across your skin. Routine. Normal. Uninterrupted. Peaceful.

The next week, however, it all goes to shit.

Okay. Maybe that's a little dramatic. It's not as bad as all that. The night starts as normal: you're on your stool, and you have your drink, and you have ten minutes until Yoongi is due to play, shifting to get comfortable, crossing your legs.

But then: 

"Oh my God, you're wearing your come fuck me heels," comes Jimin's voice from behind you, and your blood turns to ice.

You turn on the barstool so fast you almost fall off it. You come face to face with Jimin who has an expression of what can only be described as sheer delight on his face. He's even dressed appropriately for the bar, a silk shirt tucked into his Very Tight jeans and a subtle smoky eye to top it off; Jungkook looks nice, too, but you have no doubt that he's only here under sufferance, if the infinitely apologetic look on his face is anything to go by.

"Jimin?" Your voice comes out as a hiss. If you were a cat your back would be up and your hackles would be raised and all your fur would be on end, your entire body going into fight mode. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see for myself what was more important than movie night," Jimin says simply, like it's obvious. "So here we are."

"Sorry, Y/n," Jungkook apologises from over his boyfriend's shoulder. Jimin ignores him.

You can feel how your face is starting to flush, your skin crawling with embarrassment. You change your outfit every week and your friends have managed to turn up on the one week where you've cycled into what could probably be considered your most promiscuous one, the hem of your dress high and the cut of it low, along with shoes that Jimin had rightfully named as your Come Fuck Me heels. It wasn't because you were trying to seduce anyone but you only have so many items in your wardrobe that are appropriate for Dionysus. 

"How did you find me?"

"I have my ways," Jimin says mysteriously.

"He stalked your Bitmoji on Snapchat. Ow." Jungkook pouts as Jimin slaps his arm. "Sorry, again. I said we should leave you alone but Jimin said we should check in case you'd been kidnapped because you never willingly go into bars."

You're interrupted by Jin, who'd been busy serving someone when your idiot friends had turned up; he leans across the bar and touches your shoulder and fixes Jimin and Jungkook with the most intimidating look you've ever seen on his face. You know Jin as a light-hearted pun master, harmless and goofy and approachable, a great friend— but right now he looks like some sort of beautiful guardian angel, broad shouldered and narrow eyed and honestly, pretty menacing. 

"Are you alright?" He keeps his eyes on the other two men as he speaks. "Are these guys bothering you?"

Jimin, rather than looking cowed, looks like he's reached a stage of absolute euphoria, eyes darting between Jin's hand on your shoulder to your face. Jungkook's face, meanwhile, is doing that thing it does whenever someone issues him some kind of challenge, his sweetness abruptly being swallowed by his competitive side and his stubborn refusal to lose anything. You're the only person who has the power to save this situation before it goes absolutely tits up, and you swallow down a resigned sigh.

"I'm fine, thank you, Jin," you say, looking at him with a smile as you pat the hand on your shoulder. "Unfortunately these guys are my friends, much to my infinite suffering. Well, Jungkook's alright. Jimin is the one who's the pain."

"Hey," Jimin whines. Jungkook looks quietly pleased, but pretends to scowl when Jimin looks at him, offended on his boyfriend's behalf.

Jin still seems unhappy but pulls his hand back. "Alright," he says, but then he pitches his voice low so that only you can hear: "If you need any help, just ask me for a rum and soda, okay?"

You always order mocktails whenever you're here, wanting to stay completely sober so that you can enjoy Yoongi's playing with all the attention it deserves. You've never asked for anything alcoholic, least of all a rum and soda. Although you really are okay, you can't help but be warmed by Jin's concern for you and how he's offering you this careful, considerate lifeline in case you need it. "I will do. Thanks, Jinnie."

He smiles at you and then gives Jungkook and Jimin one final frown before going to deal with a gaggle of customers who've gathered at the other end of the bar. While Jungkook remains standing, taking in the interior of the bar with wide eyes, Jimin slides onto the stool next to yours.

"He's fucking hot," Jimin says with no preamble, eyeing Jin without shame as the bartender starts to pour and mix different drinks. Jungkook makes a disgruntled noise but settles when Jimin pats him fondly on the butt. "I'm not surprised you're wearing those heels. I would too if I were you."

"Oh my God, Jimin." You hide your face in your hands. "Jin is just a friend, please don't make this weird."

"Come on, Y/n, it's okay," Jimin says reassuringly as he pats your shoulder, replacing Jin's touch with his own. "The blind dates might not have worked out, but you've met someone nice so that's good! I mean, you did meet him because I organised the date here in the first place, but I'll let that slide. Also I can't believe you missed movie night because of a boy and you didn't tell me, but I'll let that slide too because I love you."

Park Jimin is your best friend. Park Jimin meddles in your life despite your protestations and isn't beyond being passive aggressive to get his way, but Park Jimin is also one of the nicest people you know and everything he does is because he loves you and will do whatever he thinks is necessary to reach his end goal of making you happy. He's magnanimous and kind and caring, and he also has absolutely the wrong idea right now, clearly under the impression that you're attracted to Seokjin and have been flirting with him for however many weeks it's been since you were meant to meet Hoseok here.

"No, seriously, Jimin, it's not Jin." You look at Jimin through the gaps in your fingers. "He's cute, yeah, but I don't come here because of him."

Your friend looks genuinely baffled, hand stilling on your shoulder. "Then why are you here?"

And, with perfect timing— as if your life is some badly written film or romantic drama— the clock ticks over to 8pm and Yoongi steps onto the stage. His hair is dark, blond replaced with black a few weeks ago, though it's still long enough that it hangs in his eyes; he looks a little ragged around the edges, a little messy, a little tired, and altogether beautiful. You want to touch the coolness of your fingertips to the dark circles under his eyes, want to press kisses across each of his bony knuckles, want to let your tongue settle in the hollow of his neck that shows each time he leans back and tilts his head up just so.

You hadn't even meant to but you'd turned away from Jimin the second you'd heard piano notes begin to play, drawn in by the sound like a moth to a flame. Jimin's hand falls off your shoulder and you hear him breathe out a quiet oh of realisation. You tear your eyes away from the sight of Yoongi at the piano and turn on your stool to face the bar again, gripping your glass with both hands, shoulders hunched.

"I like to watch him play," you say, and your voice is near a whisper, so as not to detract from the music.

"It's beautiful," Jungkook says, speaking before Jimin can say anything. His voice is quiet, too, not wanting to break over the sound of the piano. 

And so you hear with absolute clarity as Yoongi shifts mid-song into something different and it startles you. Yoongi always varies his music, always has something new, but you've been here often enough that you had recognised the opening song— it was one of your favourites— and you know that he's cut himself off before finishing, soft melody jumping into the opening bars of something different, sharper, a little angry, maybe sorrowful. Something that pulls at you and demands your attention.

Of course you give it to him. You swing your head away from your drink to watch him once more, watch how his motions have changed, the way he surges forward and presses his weight into his arms and down into his hands, his fingertips, the keys. You turn your entire body at this point, settling in your usual position for when you watch Yoongi; you see how his head tilts and he shifts from a minor into a major key, the same notes and chords transformed from something pensive into something joyful as he leans away from the heavier hands he'd been forcing the keys down with.

"How long does this go on for?" Jimin asks.

"About thirty or forty minutes," you answer. Though you turn your head back over your shoulder so that Jimin can hear you, you keep your eyes fixed on Yoongi. It's probably entirely coincidental, the sudden change in his music coinciding with when you turned away from him and when you looked back. He's not playing for you, he's playing for the whole bar, and besides, he's been looking down at the piano the whole time. He hasn't been looking at you.

And yet. The idea that Yoongi has noticed you and wants you to watch him has something hot settling low in your belly.

Jimin leans forward so that his chin is on your shoulder, talking directly into your ear as his hands wrap around your waist from behind. "This is the guy?"

Yoongi finishes the song and you watch in captivation as he swallows and runs a hand through his hair before he starts the next one. He's never done that before. Fuck. "Yes. Yoongi's the guy."

"Do you wait until he's finished so you can speak with him?" Jimin asks, ever curious.

You pause. "No," you admit. "No, I've never actually spoken to him."

Jimin doesn't ask why you've been coming back to see a guy you don't know and haven't talked to. He just hums gently. Jimin is pushy but he's also understanding and empathetic and knows what to say, when to press forward and when to hold back. It's one of the reasons you love him so much.

Jimin lapses into silence as Yoongi starts the next piece. It's one you haven't heard before and it's a little fiercer than most of Yoongi's recent songs. Rather than each note sliding into the next, he hammers them out separately, each note a statement that builds into something larger, a provocation. A storm gathering above Yoongi's waters, threatening to pull you in, pull you under.

Behind you, you hear Jungkook and Jimin briefly murmuring to each other, then Jimin's hands slide from off your waist and you hear the sound of him shifting so that Jungkook can sit down, Jimin using his boyfriend's lap as a chair instead. You have to wonder if the barstools can actually support that kind of weight, but Jin doesn't come over to tell them off, so you figure it must be okay.

On stage, Yoongi's hands pause, an uncharacteristic caesura that breaks the flow of the notes he'd been stringing together before he resumes playing as if this hiccup had never occurred. To anyone else, it would sound like that break was meant to be there, but you know better. You know Yoongi had faltered.

No way.

No way?

He's paying attention to you.

(Oh, shit.)

No way.

You're suddenly so overwhelmed that you actually feel nauseous. You've been consumed with thoughts of Yoongi for weeks, had images of him playing you just as easily as he does that piano, thoughts of him laying you out bare beneath him, but the idea that Yoongi actually knows who you are? Is aware of you on some level? Wants your eyes on him?

Fuck. 

It's too much. 

You're already off kilter from Jimin and Jungkook's arrival— as harmless as their appearance was meant to be— and this is the cherry on top. You don't know if you can keep your composure right now and you need to get away from Yoongi before you end up walking onto the stage and pulling him off that stupid piano stool to show him exactly how much you enjoy his music.

"Jimin? Jungkook? How about you say we go to a club and get absolutely shitfaced?"

You haven't looked away from Yoongi in the time that you've said this, but you can just feel the confusion emanating from the men behind you.

"But you—"

"I thought—"

"We're already dressed up, aren't we? Besides, I still owe you for film night, so drinks are on me."

There's little argument from them after that. For the first time since you've been coming here you leave before Yoongi's set is done, slipping out of the bar without noticing Jin's confused gaze on you. 

It's not until much later, once you've drunkenly fallen onto Jimin and Jungkook's couch, that the sober part of your brain whispers to you: you didn't buy Yoongi his drink.

(That night you dream of stormy skies and tattered sails and a capsizing ship. Once you wake, the memory of the dream quickly leaves you, and the last thing you remember is the sight of someone reaching towards you, pulling you out of the water, skin pale and head ringed with blond hair, a halo— and then you forget that too, slipping through your fingers like quicksand.)

–

Of course you go back to Dionysus the next week. You make Jimin promise that he won't turn up without warning again, and then you make Jungkook promise that he'll at least send you a heads-up message if Jimin changes his mind. Despite both these promises, after the debacle last week with your outfit, you've actually bought new clothes, so at least today you don't feel as scandalous. (You still look hot, though.)

You're grateful when Jin doesn't press you for details or ask why you left early last week. He just greets you like he normally does and predicts your order with his usual aptitude, and as you stir your drink with your straw, you have to wonder at what happened. You're probably overreacting, overthinking things, grasping at nothing; there is not a chance in hell that Min Yoongi, reclusive piano savant, has noticed you. No way. Nuh-uh.

He's probably only aware of your existence because of the repeated drinks you've had Jin foist on him. If anything he's probably annoyed at you after not tipping him with last week— he's probably come to expect them by now and you'd forced him to miss out. Maybe you'll get Jin to give him two drinks this week? Ooh, then again, maybe not. Is two shots of whisky a lot? People drink doubles, don't they. How strong is the wine he likes, anyway?

Yoongi's appearance on stage pulls you out of your thoughts. He makes his way up the steps, towards the piano, scans the room— and then for the first time since you've been coming here to watch him, he stops.

He stops because he's looking at you.

It's only for the briefest moment, eyes resting on you for maybe five seconds, and then you breathlessly watch as his mouth twists into something that can only be described as a smirk, pleased at the sight of you.

Oh, God.

He looks away and sits at the piano like he normally does, but you would swear that his back is a little straighter— something in his posture that reads as cockiness, even. He launches into a song that starts light but then almost immediately dances into something flirtatious, seductive, and tonight whenever Yoongi glances at you, he makes sure that you know. He turns his head just so, looks at you through the curve of his lashes, each touch of those dark eyes against your own sending little shivers through you, punching the breath out of your lungs.

You've always been entranced by Yoongi and tonight is no different. The minutes slide by as easy as water, liquid, music gliding over you like the rising tide, kissing your skin like the ebb and flow of the waves. It feels like he's barely started when his set is over and he's finished, standing up with as little ostentation as always before he vanishes off the stage.

You already have the money counted out before Jin has made his way over. You slide it towards him as he pours the whisky, but rather than asking if you have a message to pass to Yoongi, a look of consternation passes over his face.

"The price has gone up," Jin says, and you blink.

"Oh, that's no problem. How much is it now?" You're reaching for your purse to get more money out when Jin puts the whisky on the bar in front of you.

"No, don't worry, I'll just go out back and get the right change for you," he says. He says it with such confidence that it takes you a beat too long to realise that what he's just said makes no sense— why is he getting you change if you haven't even given him enough money? Isn’t there change in the till?— but by this point he's already gone, the staff door swinging shut behind him. 

You tilt your head, beyond confused.

Someone chuckles from behind you, the sound quiet and low. "Ah, cute."

You twist in your seat to see who's talking and then freeze. Yoongi is standing right there, looking at you with his dark, dark eyes; it's the first time you've been subjected to the full intensity of his gaze, from this close, and your pulse picks up. He looks a little softer without the lights of the small stage throwing him into sharp relief but his aura is just as intense; your eyes dart across each feature of his face as you drink him in— the mess of his fringe hanging into his sharp eyes, the faintest freckle on his nose, his surprisingly cute cheeks, his pink mouth.

The mouth that's curving into a sly little smile, now, your eyes flying back up to meet his own.

"I'm guessing this is for me?" He points at the whisky. He takes it before you can answer, and there's something unfairly erotic about how he drinks it: the way he holds the glass, swirling the whisky over the chilled rocks inside; the way his mouth falls open as the tumbler touches his lips; the way his head tilts back as he lets the liquor flow into his mouth, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

You shamelessly watch him the whole time. He lowers the glass from his lips, still a little parted as he takes a breath in, and then he's looking back at you. You have to bite back a noise that's risen up in your throat, unbidden. Does he know how much he affects you? 

You adjust your position on the barstool, thoughtlessly uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you regain your balance. Yoongi's eyes fly down to watch the motion and you're close enough to him that you see how his pupils dilate at the movement. A breath escapes your mouth, a little pant of air that you desperately mask as a cough as you try to calm the racing of your heart, the flood of arousal that's pulsing through you.

"I'm glad you like the whisky," you say, your voice steady despite how your legs feel like they're about to give out. (Thank god you're sitting down.) "I'm sorry to have deprived you of it last week."

Yoongi's shifted so that he's leaning against the bar. He's standing while you're still sitting and you have to tilt your head back to look at him. "You did seem like you were in an awful hurry," he says, a teasing lilt to his tone, and yet his voice is still so low, deeper than you'd imagined.

Despite the levity in his words there's something heavy in his gaze. "Oh?" You can't help but react to it, helpless and unable to resist. "You noticed me leaving?"

Yoongi's eyes sharpen. Hooked. "Of course," he says. "You're the only thing I pay attention to when I'm here. You have been from the first night you walked in."

Your breath catches in your throat. You hadn't expected Yoongi to say something so forthright, to be so direct, more used to coy flirtation from the other people you've met in the past; it's like you've been dipped in cold water, a shock to the system, bracing and invigorating and refreshing.

"Oh," you say, at a loss with how to respond. Yoongi seems pleased to have gotten this reaction out of you, the corners of his lips curving upwards in a self satisfied smile.

"Besides," he adds, "I find it flattering that not only do you come here every week to watch me, you always make sure to make your appreciation known, too." He lifts the glass up and takes another drink, but this time he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he does, gaze unwavering as he finishes his drink. The rocks tumble over themselves as he sets the glass down on the bar, lower lip wet with a drop of whisky that lingers; his tongue sweeps across it and leaves a sheen, catching the light, shining. You can't tear your eyes away from the sight. "It would have been hard to ignore that even if I'd wanted to."

A shiver trickles down your spine. You'd really only ever meant it as a compliment, a quiet way to express your admiration about his craft, and you have to ask— "How long have you been playing the piano?"

This question seems to throw Yoongi off kilter. You see the way his lashes flutter as he blinks with surprise. "For as long as I can remember," he says, and then a small smile appears on his lips. "When I was young I had a toy piano that I constantly used to hammer at, so when I grew up a little, my parents bought the real thing so that I could learn how to play."

He sounds nostalgic and your heart squeezes in your chest. "You're self-taught, right?" You ask, remembering something Jin had told you before. 

Yoongi looks briefly startled. "Yes, I am," he says, and then his eyes narrow. "Did Jin tell you that?"

"Um, yeah." You squirm a little on the barstool. "Sorry, should I not have said anything about it?"

"No, no, you're okay. It's just that Jin says a lot of things, and I'm just wondering what else he said to you." Yoongi's tone is weirdly pained.

The concern is obvious on his face, and you wonder if Jin is to Yoongi what Jimin is to you— well-meaning but maybe a little overwhelming in their approach. 

"All good things, I promise. I love dogs, too." You smile up at Yoongi, who seems a little taken aback, and the smile starts to drop off your face. "Um. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." For all that Yoongi was smirking earlier, he seems a little unsure now. You feel confused, waiting as Yoongi clearly turns some thoughts over in his head, and then he says: "What exactly has Jin told you?"

You smile. You recognise that tone, the nonchalance that hides a little worry— it's exactly how you sound whenever you find out that Jimin has been speaking to someone about you, even if it's always positively. "Oh, just bits and pieces," you say. Feeling bold, you pat the barstool next to you, tilting your head invitingly. "Why don't you tell me about yourself instead so we can see if Jin was lying to me?"

Yoongi looks genuinely startled, his eyes widening imperceptibly before the expression wipes off his face as if nothing had happened. "Why not," he says, as if in equal parts to himself and to you, before he takes a seat.

Here's what you learn about Yoongi: he's intense, yes, and soft spoken, but as you continue to talk, he begins to loosen up, bit by bit. When he laughs he smiles so wide that his eyes squeeze shut and you can see his gums and you're so fucking endeared at the sight. He's sharp and smart and witty and just so, so intriguing. 

You prop your elbow on the bar and rest your cheek in your hand as he talks, wanting to take everything in, and you rapidly realise that Min Yoongi is less of an enigma than you'd thought, but just as complex as you'd expected— and you want to unravel that complexity. If he'll let you.

You've been talking for so long that the bar has started to empty out, patrons trickling away, the two of you so engrossed with each other that you barely notice. You find out that Jin and Yoongi are actually roommates, best friends, and that Jin is as chaotic as you'd expect and is also very good at drawing Yoongi into his shenanigans; you throw your head back to laugh at one of his stories, and when you catch your breath you find Yoongi looking at you, watching you with an expression on his face that makes you pause. He's been watching you intently all night, listening quietly whenever you talk, but this expression, this is new. He swallows.

"Can I ask something?"

You blink. "Sure, go ahead."

"Why did you keep coming back?" Yoongi asks, and that's not a question you'd been expecting at all.

"Uh," you say eloquently. "Well. Honestly? I couldn't stay away, I guess. I'm not really a musician, and I don't know a lot about the piano, but there's something in your music and the way you play— every song makes me feel something different and new, or reminds me of something I haven't felt, places I haven't been to, but I feel like I know somehow. Like I'm nostalgic for something that I haven't experienced, that doesn't exist. It's almost like you're taking my hand and showing me around some hidden part of the world that only you can see— like you've made it into music because that's the only way you can communicate it. How could I not come back after that?" You pause. "Um. Does that make sense? I feel like it didn't. Sorry?"

Yoongi's been watching you as you've been talking, silent, and by the time you've finished his mouth has fallen open a little. He stares at you for a few moments longer, and then he says: "Holy shit." And then he says: "Oh my God." And then he says: "What the fuck."

"… I guess it didn't make sense, then?" Despite the ease of your earlier conversation you suddenly feel awkward, laughing a little as your legs uncross so that you can shuffle to the edge of your barstool. Ready to hop up and make a quick get away if you need to. Run away from the embarrassment. "Um."

"Y/n," Yoongi says, and you realise with a start that you haven't introduced yourself to him throughout your whole conversation— Jin must have told him your name— but then he keeps talking. "I thought you just— I don't know, that you just kept coming back because of me. Not the music. Then Jin kept talking about you and—" 

He makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and runs a hand through his hair; you stare at his bared forehead, and it says about how attracted you are to him that the sight of his forehead is enough to set your heart racing. "I thought that maybe if I let this happen just one time that it would be enough, but now I don't think it will."

"Yoongi." You're confused, unsure if you've correctly understood what he's just said. "Let what happen one time? What are you talking about?"

"Touching you," Yoongi says. "Fucking you." His voice is a rasp and the sound of it, the sound of his words, shoots straight through you and into your core. "I thought the drinks were— I don't know, an invitation. But they weren't, were they? You really meant it. You really like my music. And me."

Yoongi's voice is hoarse and you come to the realisation that he feels tense. Like he can accept that you want to have sex with him, but he's bowled over by the idea that you're attracted to the other parts, too, as few of those as you know. That you genuinely enjoy what he plays. That you think it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.

"Yoongi," you say, tone deceptively gentle. "I really, really like your music, and I think you're an incredibly talented musician, and I've been memorising everything Jin's been telling me about you because I think you're one of the most interesting people I've ever come across and I'd really like to get to know more about you. So I'm really glad to have had the opportunity to talk to you like this." You gesture between the two of you, sitting as you are, facing towards each other on your barstools. And then you brace yourself to take the leap, to throw yourself into uncharted waters. "However, I am also insanely attracted to you and I've spent the past I-don't-know-how-many weeks picturing you bending me over that piano and fucking me so hard that I can't walk straight."

Yoongi freezes in the middle of rubbing the back of his neck, a clearly nervous habit. Though your voice has kept steady while you've been talking, your heart has been thrumming in your chest the whole time, feeling as nervous as Yoongi looks. Something flickers across his face, and his hand drops away from his neck as he straightens, pushing himself off from where he's been leaning against the bar.

"Oh?" He leans towards you. Your legs unthinkingly part as he moves, the material of your dress hitching up as you spread your knees so that he can get closer. "So you do want me to fuck you?"

His nervousness seems to be entirely gone, emboldened by your words. One of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, fingers sliding into your hair as he holds you in place, at his mercy. He's barely touched you but the feeling of contact makes you bite back a whimper. Even though it's darker here and you're away from the tables, away from the few remaining patrons of the bar, the two of you are in plain sight even under the dimmed lights; you're not doing anything illicit or inappropriate but a little thrill trickles down your spine at the idea.

"Yoongi," you breathe.

"What is it, babygirl?" He tips his head down as he moves closer, his nose brushing yours, each of his words a warm curl across your lips. "Tell me."

The pet name sends a shiver through you. Your hands rise from your lap, sliding over his chest to touch lightly at his neck, a little shy, a little bold. "I want you to kiss me."

"Oh?" Yoongi's mouth is so close to yours, and when you tilt forward to kiss him, he stays just out of your reach, leaving you wanting. "You think you deserve a kiss, do you?"

You can't help but make a little noise, a petulant whine at the back of your throat. He has you entirely at his mercy and he knows it. "Please," you say. "Please, Yoongi, wanna kiss you so bad."

The smile he gives you in reply is wicked. "How can I say no when you've asked so politely?"

Yoongi finally, finally dips his head down and then he's kissing you with such intensity it steals the breath out of you. It's open-mouthed and wet and dirty, his tongue sliding into your mouth in between taking your top and bottom lips between his own, alternating, sucking on them and lapping at them with his tongue. You chase after his mouth with your own, roll your tongues together, hands sliding over the smooth skin of his throat as they circle behind his neck, but then Yoongi pulls away; you bite that needy whine back again, kiss cut short far sooner than you would have liked.

Yoongi is taking the sight of you in, eyes lingering on your shining lips, and then he's rising to stand. You're shaken out of your kiss-induced haze when he does, a little confused, but he takes your hand in his and you let him lift up, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"Do you want to get out of here?" His voice is pitched low, deep with a promise of pleasure to come, and you shiver.

"God, I thought you'd never ask," you say in a rush, and he just laughs quietly at your obvious desperation.

"Come on, then." He helps you off the barstool, your hand still in his— god, his hands are so big and his touch is so warm. His eyes are dark as he watches the way you reach to rearrange the hem of your dress with your free hand, but he beats you to it, palm flattening the material against your legs; his fingers dance just under the edge as he straightens it, hand sliding over the skin of your inner thigh and lingering before he pulls away.

"You're shameless," you say, a little breathless, and Yoongi just smirks at you. Tease.

Your fingers remain tangled with his as he leads you behind the bar and through the staff door. Jin's out back, scrolling through something on his phone, but as soon as you walk in he abandons whatever he's doing and raises his eyebrows. He looks surprisingly severe. "Customers aren't allowed back here."

Your eyes widen, but then Jin's serious expression cracks and he starts to laugh. Although he's joking and clearly doesn't care, you feel a little guilty at breaking the rules and duck behind Yoongi, shy. Yoongi snorts and holds a middle finger up at the bartender.

Jin gasps theatrically, clutching his chest while looking askance. "I raise you from birth and this is the thanks I get?"

"You're one year older than me, hyung."

"I carry you in my womb for nine months and birth you into this world and you— oh, okay, you technically shouldn't be doing that either," Jin says, stopping mid-sentence as Yoongi decides his hyung has been talking for too long and turns away from him to start kissing you again, shameless as he tugs you close to him and licks into your mouth; you immediately fall back into him, unable to resist. "Jesus Christ, Yoongi."

Once you part, you bury your head into Yoongi's chest as his arms come around you, hiding your embarrassment in Yoongi's dress shirt. "Sorry, Jinnie," you say, muffled.

"You are absolutely not to blame here, Y/n, you are an angel and a sweetheart." Jin's tone is soothing. "Yoongi, however, is a tiny evil gremlin who needs to learn how to control himself. Though I can't blame him, you are very cute."

"Hyung, I need the apartment tonight," Yoongi says without preamble. You wriggle in the circle of his arms. You're not normally this timid but Yoongi is just so direct and blasé with Jin that you can't help but feel a little shy, as hot and bothered as you are.

"I'll crash at Joon's," the bartender says. He’s obviously not surprised. You lift your head from Yoongi's chest to look at Jin and find that he's smiling at you. "If Yoongi starts to bother you, just whap him on the nose. I find a rolled up newspaper works best if you have one to hand."

"I'll kill you, Kim Seokjin," Yoongi says.

Jin just laughs as he waves the two of you off and you take the initiative to start pulling Yoongi towards the back door. He comes easily, but once the door has swung shut behind you he takes the lead again and guides you towards his car. He lets go of your hand so that he can unlock it, swinging the passenger door open for you, and he's unabashed in how he watches you step in and eyes the way your dress hitches up again as you slide into your seat; he leans against the car and just stares at you.

There's honestly nothing sexier when someone clearly wants you as much as you want them. It makes you feel bold, drunk on the way he looks at you. 

You glance up at him through your lashes. "The sooner we get to yours, the sooner you can have me," you say.

Yoongi curses under his breath. "You're going to be the death of me."

Surprisingly enough, though, he keeps his hands to himself when he gets behind the wheel. You can't help but feel a little surprised; you don't know how close Yoongi's home is to the bar, but you very rapidly tire of waiting to feel his hands on you again and so you lean over the centre console and press a fleeting kiss just behind his ear.

Yoongi doesn't outwardly react, continuing to stare at the road, so you take this as a challenge. You slide one of your hands onto his thigh— for balance, of course— and kiss behind his ear again, tug his lobe with your teeth, mindful of his piercings, and then proceed to trail little kisses down his neck and the little slither of his collarbone that you can reach without his shirt getting in the way. You finally get to lick your tongue in the hollow of his neck that you've been thinking about for weeks.

Yoongi's hands tighten on the steering wheel. Jackpot. 

"Y/n," he says, voice low, and you're so close to his throat that you can hear the rumble behind his words. You love it. "You should stop now, or we're not going to make it to my apartment."

You go still. Yoongi continues to look at the road but his knuckles are white with how hard he's gripping the wheel, and when you glance down you can see how much you've affected him, cock hardening in his slacks. It would be so easy to slide your hand up his thigh and finally touch him, have him pull over and wreck you, but you want something more than a quick fumble in the seat of a car. 

So you just press your lips lightly against the line of his jaw one last time. You let yourself breathe in the dark scent of his cologne— pinewood and pepper and something deeper— before you pull back, folding your hands in your lap demurely, trying to force yourself to be content with waiting.

"Good girl," Yoongi says. You can't help but preen; you don't normally respond to praise like this, but something about Yoongi just makes you want to please him, hear him compliment you again. Yoongi glances at you, a little flicker of realisation as he sees how you've just reacted to his words, and his eyes darken. "You like that, baby? Like being a good girl for me?"

Fuck. "Yes." Your pulse is rising. You've been craving Yoongi for weeks, but god, if he asked you to go home right now, sent you home without touching you, you'd go, just to hear him call you a good girl again. But you don't want him to leave you untouched, you don't want that at all. "I want you to touch me, Yoongi," you say. "I'll be a good girl, please just touch me."

"Fuck." Yoongi's foot presses down on the accelerator. He's never wanted to live closer to the bar before, but the sight of you staring at him from his passenger seat and rubbing your thighs together in a desperate attempt to give yourself some relief is making him rethink his housing location. "I will, baby. We'll be there soon."

Soon turns out to be less than five minutes, scarcely any time at all, though each second is torturous in how long it feels. Yoongi's careless in how he parks the car, wonky within the lines of his spot, but neither of you notice or care. You fumble with the buckle of your belt, climbing out of the car as quickly as you can and slamming the door shut with more power than you probably need to, noise loud in the quiet of the night.

Before you can react, however, Yoongi is rounding the car and grabbing you, pressing you against the metal and glass of the door. One of his hands slips under your thigh, lifting your leg and shoving the hem of your dress out of the way so that he can grind against you; you gasp at the feeling of his growing hardness against the dampness of your underwear, and Yoongi leans forward to swallow the sound into his mouth. 

The kiss is rushed and desperate, but you love the messiness of it. Yoongi pulls away to press his lips against the side of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, mouthing at the jumping pulse he finds there. You start to make small ah-ah noises when he laves his tongue over it, one of your hands tangling in his hair as you tilt your head back, each of his touches fizzing like electricity on your skin.

"P-people could see," you stutter, struggling to catch your breath with how good his mouth feels on you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin. "I thought you wanted me to touch you," he says, but immediately relents, pulling away from you so he can lead you into the building. You miss the heat of his body against yours but he keeps hold of your hand as you follow him; it's late and the building seems quiet, so you're mindful of just how loud your high heels sound as they clack on the floor, though Yoongi doesn't seem to care.

When you step into the apartment you reach down for the straps on your shoes so you can kick them off but Yoongi stops you with a hand to your shoulder. It's a light touch but you stop immediately, glancing up from your feet to his face.

"Let me," he says, and a hot trickle of arousal runs down your spine at the tone of his voice. 

You straighten up and watch as Yoongi gets down on one knee, hands circling around your ankle and lifting your foot. You rest the toe of your shoe lightly on Yoongi's knee, watching as he undoes the strap around your ankle and slides the shoe off, setting it to one side, before he presses his lips to the inside of your knee. You shiver at the light touch and Yoongi smirks, letting your ankle go so you can move and he can take your other shoe off, too.

He barely takes his eyes off your face the whole time, only glancing down when he has to. His motions are slow and unhurried despite his earlier rush, carefully setting the second shoe next to the first, and you can't help but feel like he's teasing you— drawing out your reactions just because he can. Before you can say anything about it, though, his hands trail up from your calves to your thigh before he hitches your leg over his shoulder, one hand staying on your thigh as the other grips at your hip.

You bite back a gasp. From his angle Yoongi can see everything and he's looking up with hooded eyes, staring at the dark patch on your underwear, wet for him; his gaze trails across the lace of the lingerie you're wearing, the small colourful flowers blooming across the dark material. It was something you'd put on to complete your outfit, the matching panties and bra making you feel expensive and pretty— even if you hadn't expected anyone to see it.

"Look at you," he says, hand lowering from your hip to trace lightly across your slit; it's a barely-there touch, sensation dulled by the material in the way, but you still jolt at the feeling of it. "Did you wear this for me?"

"Of course," you confess. You've wanted his eyes on you for so long. "Always dress up pretty for you."

"Fuck." He sounds reverent. "You've always been such a good girl for me, haven't you?"

A needy noise rises unbidden at the back of your throat when Yoongi spreads your leg wider and leans forward to mouth at you through the lace of your panties. Your knees go weak and you have to lean back against the wall for balance, grateful at how close you are to it when Yoongi draws his tongue upwards, wetting the fabric, your toes curling.

"Yoongi." One of your hands is resting in his hair and you can't stop your grip from tightening. "Yoongi, please."

He gives you what you want, fingers hooking into your underwear and pulling it down; he lets your leg drop so that you can step out of them, but as soon as you've finished he throws the panties to one side, one hand splaying across your stomach as the other lifts your leg again so that you’re spread open for him, immediately pressing his mouth to your clit.

"Oh!" You gasp. Yoongi seems to have tired of his teasing and is eating you out like a man starved, the slick sound of his tongue and lips filling the apartment as he laves attention on your dripping pussy, staring up at you as he drinks your reactions in. He dips his tongue into you and your hips try to buck forwards but the hand on your stomach holds you in place, firm, and you let out an embarrassingly loud keen at how good it feels to be this powerless.

You slap your free hand across your mouth and try to swallow the noise down. Yoongi frowns and stops, leaning his head back as he looks at you; his mouth is shining with evidence of your arousal, opalescent. "I want to hear you."

You bite your lip, forcing your hand away from your mouth; you don't want to be too loud, too noisy, but you want to be a good girl for Yoongi. He wants to hear you so you'll give him what he wants.

"O-okay," you breathe, and Yoongi smirks up at you; it's filthy, how he's looking at you like that while his lips are wet with you. You tilt your hips towards him, desperate to have his mouth on you again, and he immediately complies.

He's lapping at your clit when the hand on your stomach moves and slides down. You watch as he takes his tongue off you so that he can curl it around his fingers instead, before running those fingers across your lower lips to gather the slick there, wetting them even further. You roll your hips into the sensation, loving the press of his slightly rough fingers against your silken folds, wanting more, eyes wide as you watch how Yoongi's hand trails between your legs.

He puts his mouth back on your clit at the same time as he presses one of those spit slick fingers into you. You're so turned on that the initial slide in is easy, but he still takes his time; he's distracting you with the way he's sucking at your small bundle of nerves but you still feel when he presses his second finger in, longer than yours, the sensation of it even better than you'd dreamed.

He crooks his fingers and you throw your head back against the wall, dull thud barely registering over the sensation of Yoongi inside you. He sees how you react and continues to move his fingers in the same way, thrusting his fingers in and curling them as he pulls out, watching as you writhe; the pleasure inside you has been growing, the feeling building, and if Yoongi keeps doing that then you're going to cum. "I'm close," you gasp.

Yoongi responds to this by pushing a third finger inside you, rubbing his fingertips directly over your sweet spot. The stretch burns, just a little, but God, you love it. He purses his lips over your clit and flicks his tongue over it at the same time as he curls his fingers again and it undoes you; your spine arches away from the wall as you cum, ripples of pleasure sparking through your body as you tighten around Yoongi's fingers, sobbing almost deliriously at how good it feels.

Yoongi watches you the whole time, keeps his mouth on you as you ride out your high. He only moves away when you start to jolt from oversensitivity, pulling his fingers out carefully as he does. You feel empty without them inside you and you can't wait for him to fill you up with something better instead.

Yoongi holds you steady, his grip firm as you slip your leg from his shoulder and shakily push yourself off the wall. Once you've gotten your balance he stands up— his knees must hurt but he doesn't complain, too busy watching you lift his fingers to your lips, sucking them into your mouth so you can lick the taste of yourself off him.

"Jesus Christ." Yoongi stares at the way you flick your tongue across his skin, glancing at him coquettishly through your lashes. You reach out for him, hands moving towards his belt, but he shakes his head. "Bedroom," he says.

Of course you follow him. At any other time you'd be taking in the details of the apartment, the glimpses you get into the other rooms, but you're too busy looking at Yoongi to have a mind for anything else. He's been hard for so long by now that it must be driving him crazy and you want to give him what he wants. What he needs.

He swings a door open and flicks a light on. Yoongi's room is what you'd expected: neat and organised, with dark furnishings, the only mess being a few scrunched up balls of paper that have overflowed the trash-bin by his desk, which has a pile of notepads next to his laptop and a set up of musical equipment that looks far too complex for you to make heads or tails of. 

You forget about this instantly, however, when Yoongi captures your lips in another kiss, a hand splaying across your jaw so that he can control the pace, crowding you towards the bed until the back of your knees make contact with it and you fall onto the mattress. Yoongi cages you in with his arms and keeps kissing you, though when you palm him through his slacks he hisses through his teeth.

"Want you, Yoongi." You use your hand to stroke over the hardness of him as you nip at his lower lip. "Please."

"Fuck, of course, babygirl." Yoongi leans back and you move with him, sitting up as he stands straight. He unbuttons his shirt and you help him slide it off his shoulders, using it as an excuse to run your hands over the pale skin he reveals to you, sliding your palms down his chest and over his stomach; you dip your head to kiss where your hands have traced, letting your tongue flick across his skin. You lick shamelessly at one of his nipples and feel drunk on the way he lets out a surprised little breath, turning your head to do the same to his other nipple as your hands finally reach their goal: his belt.

You deftly unbuckle it, fast enough that the leather makes a snapping noise when you pull it, and Yoongi bites back a laugh— under normal circumstances you might be embarrassed by how obvious you're being, but you're desperate to finally touch him, especially after he'd made you cum as hard as he had. You look up at him as you reach for his zipper but falter when you notice that he's staring at you with something akin to awe, lifting your lips off his skin.

"What?" You ask, suddenly feeling shy.

Yoongi doesn't respond verbally. Instead, he quirks a little grin at you before he cups your face with both hands and bends down to kiss you again, deeper and slower than he has before. You match his pace, the two of you tilting your heads to get a little closer, but when you continue to pull Yoongi's zip down he laughs against your lips and you smile. He gets the hint, stepping back so he has room to kick his trousers and underwear off; he's not trying to be sensual about it, moving fast so he can get close to you again, but you're enraptured nonetheless.

You swallow at the sight of his cock when it’s finally freed. It's flushed red from neglect, fully hardened, curving up towards his stomach, and you can see how the head glistens with precum, slick and wet. Saliva floods your mouth. Yoongi looks briefly startled when you put your hands against his hips and lightly push him backwards, but then you slide off the bed and onto your knees in front of him and the shock immediately disappears from his face, tangling a hand in your hair as you settle in place.

He's so hard that you don't feel like teasing him. Instead, you take the precum that's gathered at the tip of his cock and rub it down his length, hand wrapping around and twisting as you dip forwards and take the flushed head into your mouth. You can't swallow him all the way down, thanks to your gag reflex, but you give it a damn good go— you relax your throat as much as you can as you lower your head, using your hand to touch the parts of his cock that aren't in your mouth. You tongue at the vein on the underside as you lift back up, using your free hand to cup his balls, and Yoongi curses, his hand tightening in your hair as he pulls you off.

You blink up at him in surprise, mouth still open after he's slid out of your mouth— you feel like you'd barely started— and you can see how his cock twitches as he drinks the sight of you in.

"That mouth of yours is downright sinful," he says, running his thumb over your lower lip. You go lax under his touch, which seems to please him. "As much as I'd like to cum down your throat, I think you want something else instead, don't you, babygirl?"

Your breath shudders out of you and you nod. You want Yoongi's cock inside you, itching for him to finally fuck you stupid, the way you've been yearning for so long. "God, yes, please."

Yoongi's lips twitch at your shameless desperation. "Stand up then, baby," he says, and you comply. "Turn around."

You turn towards the bed to show Yoongi your back, and he slowly unzips your dress; it slides off your shoulders easily, slipping down your body and pooling on the floor as Yoongi drags his hands over the revealed skin. You tremble under his touch, sensitive to each of his motions as he unclasps your bra, and finally you're entirely unclothed, lingerie carelessly tossed to one side before Yoongi pulls you close.

Your back is pressed to his chest, and you can feel the heat and hardness of his cock pressing against you, but you forget about that when his hands move to cup your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You tilt your head back against his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your neck, using his tongue to lick down the bared length of it, and your breath hitches in your throat as he pinches one of your nipples between his fingers, the perfect mix of careful roughness.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Yoongi breathes into the crook of your neck. You whimper and grind back against him, feeling the wetness of his cock as it slips against your skin, and he bites back a groan.

"Yoongi, I need you," you say, so close to finally getting what you've been craving for so long. "Please," you add, voice high with desperation.

You feel how Yoongi bares his teeth against your skin in a silent snarl before he's turning you around in his arms, and you squeal in surprise as he hitches you upwards onto the bed, your head falling onto the pillows. It wasn't a rough motion, Yoongi still careful even when he's clearly as hungry for you as you are for him, but you find yourself whimpering at how he's manhandled you, loving it. Seems like he's helping you discover things about yourself that you hadn't realised before now.

Yoongi settles between your legs, staring down at you, bare and helpless underneath him. You reach out your hand to touch his chest, sweeping your fingers down the line of his stomach and over the trail of dark hair that leads down to his weeping cock, still shining with your spit. He curses, leaning over you to paw at his nightstand drawer; he fumbles with the lube and condom when you wrap your fingers around his length again, stroking him hard and slow.

"Yoongi, please," you say again, practically begging, wanting him inside you as quickly as possible. He curses under his breath again but then wraps his fingers around yours, pulling your hand off his cock. You pout at him. "I've been a good girl, haven't I?"

"Good girls are patient." Yoongi leans back on his heels and you make a small whining noise, but you quieten when you watch him rip open the condom packet; you reach forward again to help him roll it down his cock, wanting to keep the feeling of his hardness and heat under your touch, but he fixes you with a stern gaze. "Hands."

You pause, wondering exactly what he means. You settle on pulling your hands away and stretch up to let them rest on the pillow above you. You must have done the right thing because Yoongi smiles, and you give a squirm of delight. He shifts closer and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, turning his head to kiss your inner ankle.

"So perfect," he says, and you squirm again, pleased. He reaches for the bottle of lube and uncaps it with a quiet click, drizzling it directly onto his cock and biting back a noise at the coldness of it— but then he squirts more into his hands, warming it between his fingers. You make a small questioning sound, and Yoongi smiles before kissing your ankle again. "This is for you, baby."

Your eyebrows raise in quiet surprise. You're already so wet, dripping with a mix of your own cum and Yoongi's lingering spit, but he's still being this careful and considerate. He dips his slick fingers between your flushed lips and draws them upwards, making you arch your back as he grazes over your pearl of nerves, pleasure shooting directly into your core. 

"Oh, fuck," you gasp. "God, please, Yoongi, please."

"I've got you, babygirl," he murmurs, and you marvel at his self control, his restraint even now. He grips your leg with one hand and uses the other to guide himself into you. Finally. You moan as he sinks in, stretching you, slowly pushing in inch by inch; you can feel the way your walls stretch, parting for him, until he's bottomed out, and you feel so full.

"Holy shit, Yoongi." You've moved your hands and you're digging your nails into his back, trying to pull him closer even though it's not possible, Yoongi's cock so long that you can feel it filling you completely. "Oh, God."

Yoongi's fringe is hanging in his eyes but you can see how his pupils have almost swallowed the dark of his irises, the way he's drinking in the sight of you beneath him— your pupils are blown too, hair a messy halo against the pillows, nipples hard from arousal, chest heaving as you hiccup in air. He pulls out, just as slowly as he'd pushed in, the drag of his cock against your inner walls sending electricity shooting through your nerves; he stops before he's completely out, only the head of him still inside you, and you bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for the next slow thrust in.

You're completely blindsided when Yoongi snaps his hips forward suddenly, fucking sharply into you, and you choke on a surprised breath. He sets a brutal pace, the sound of his skin slapping against yours almost drowned out by the way you wail. Your hands fall away from his back and to the sheets, fingers gripping at them, twisting under your hands. His brows are drawn together with focus, but when you raise a hand up to touch his face he goes easily, letting your leg slip off his shoulder so he can kiss you.

His motions slow somewhat as you kiss each other, but he keeps the roll of his hips just as deep, and you end up all but panting against his mouth instead of kissing him; he swipes his tongue across your lips and you let them fall open so he can lick into your mouth, sloppy and wet. You can feel an orgasm building again, surprisingly fast— especially as he's not even touching your clit— and you clench around him, wanting to hit that peak again.

Yoongi stops kissing you to rest his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as he slows his thrusts, grinding into you each time he pushes all the way in, hips flush with yours. "Such a good girl." His voice is a low rasp, dark and heavy. "So pretty for me."

Yes, yes, yes. "Wanna be your good girl," you breathe. "Make you feel as good as you make me feel."

Yoongi actually growls, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you up. You grab his shoulders for support, legs spreading so that your knees hit the mattress, his cock still inside you as you look down at him, both of you kneeling now. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, stomachs flush, and Yoongi grinds up into you. His hands slide from your waist, to your ass, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you up; the change of angle has the curve of his cock dragging right across your sweet spot and you gasp. "Oh, yes, there, just like that."

You press down as Yoongi's hips snap up, and you can feel how his motions are starting to get a little jerkier, staccato, the way he speeds up. With the drag of your nipples against his chest, and the way he's hitting your g-spot dead on each time, you're close to hitting your peak, pleasure riding up into a crescendo— and then Yoongi slides one of his hands between the two of you to rub at your clit and you're gone again, gasping and shaking as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, all the air escaping your lungs in a drawn out, shuddering wail.

"Fuck, baby." Yoongi's motions grow a little more hurried and sloppy, thrusting up into you as your walls pulsate around him. You try to match his pace, drinking down the way his face twists as he chases his own release— and then his grip on you grows tight enough to bruise and he cums with a surprisingly quiet moan. He grinds upwards, his cock twitching inside you as he empties himself into the condom; you shiver at the sensation, squeezing your legs around his hips in an instinctive attempt to draw him as deeply into you as possible, as futile as that is.

Your legs are shaking. You remain tangled around each other, sweaty and panting, but then Yoongi is grasping your chin and tilting your head down so that he can kiss you. It's soft, and gentle, and you melt into it, going lax and boneless in his hold as you tighten your hands in his hair. 

You feel how he smiles tiredly against your lips, and when you pull back, he looks thoroughly fucked out; his hair is a mess from how you've been running your hands through it and lips are kiss swollen, parted so that he can suck air in and try to catch his breath. You must look similarly wrecked. You feel hazy, though Yoongi feels solid beneath you, grounding you as you slowly come back to yourself.

"I'm going to lean you back, beautiful," he says, and you entwine your fingers together behind his neck so that he can tilt you onto the mattress, careful and reverent. He slips his softening cock out of you and you let out a small sigh at the sudden feeling of emptiness, though as soon as he's done tying the condom off and throwing it in the bin he comes back to you, lightly kissing you as he draws a hand gently between the valley of your breasts. Despite the tenderness behind the motion you're suddenly struck with wondering if he's about to ask you to leave, but then he asks: "Do you want to come wash up?"

You pause. "Oh, God, my makeup," you say with sudden realisation as your fingers come up to touch under your eyes. Your eyeshadow and mascara must be a mess by now. You splay your hand across your face, as if trying to hide it— which you know is stupid, especially considering the fact the rest of your body is naked under Yoongi's gaze. He huffs out a laugh and takes your hands with his own, pulling them away. "Nooo," you whine. "Don't look at me."

One of Yoongi's eyebrows rises. "Why would I ever want to look away from you?"

You wriggle. "Yoongi," you whine again, equal parts pleased and embarrassed, but you let your hands go limp and Yoongi pulls you to your feet. "You're shameless."

"And you're gorgeous," he says, simply. "Come on, you'll get cold."

Yoongi lets you clean up first. It's weird how comfortable you are as you navigate your way around Yoongi and Jin's bathroom— you pilfer one of Jin's makeup wipes to clean your face— and how natural it feels to accept the shirt Yoongi gives you, an oversized, stretched-out old thing that's gone soft from years of wear. You're perched on the bathroom counter as you slide it on, glancing down at the design on the front, and you instantly perk up when you see what it is.

"You do love Kumamon," you say with delight. 

Yoongi stops in the middle of brushing his teeth, looking a little ridiculous with the minty froth around his lips but still just as kissable. He rinses his mouth and spits, wiping his lips with a towel before he makes a face at you.

"Jin told you about that, too?"

"I want to see your slippers," you say in reply and Yoongi groans. You can't help but giggle, feeling sleepy and soft and affectionate, and you touch your fingers under Yoongi's chin so that you can press a quick kiss to his lips. "I think it's cute."

By the time you've both finished your ablutions and you slide off the counter, you feel tired, what little energy you had after being fucked by Yoongi completely gone from you; you slide onto Yoongi's bed gratefully, glad to be off your feet. You hold your hands up and beckon for him to join you, but then let out a sharp laugh of surprise when he tugs his rumpled blanket off the bed from underneath you and lets it drop to the floor. "Yoongi!"

"I'll be right back," he says. While you wait, you decide to stretch, eyes slipping shut as you extend your limbs. You know you'll feel the ache between your legs tomorrow, a little thrill skating through you at the knowledge that Yoongi's touch has left a physical reminder, something only you can feel and no one else can see.

When your eyes flutter open again, you see Yoongi standing at the bottom of the bed, a different blanket gathered in his arms. He's staring at you, and you realise that the material of his shirt has moved as you've stretched, hitching up over your hips. Even though you're both tired, Yoongi's eyes still darken when you shift your legs, and you bask under his attention.

"A different blanket?" You ask, curious, and Yoongi's eyes slide away from your still-bare core back up to your face.

"It's Jin's," he says. "I wasn't about to let you sleep on sweaty sex sheets."

"I don't mind," you say, honestly, but Yoongi proceeds to lay Jin's blanket across the bed anyway. "Jin's not going to be happy about this," you add, but you say it with a laugh, instantly curling up into Yoongi when he lays down beside you.

"He'll live." Yoongi's arm comes around you, fingers trailing over your shoulder; you lapse into silence and let your eyes shut, focusing on Yoongi's movements. It feels like he’s pressing piano keys down and playing a silent song against your skin. You can't help but smile, starting to drift off, when Yoongi speaks again. "Let me take you out for breakfast."

"Hm?" Your eyes open and you blink away your sleepiness to look up at Yoongi, who's still watching you. "Breakfast?"

"Yes." Yoongi's fingers still on your shoulder, and then he slides his hand down to tangle your fingers with his. "Or lunch. Or dinner. Whichever you prefer." He pauses. "Unless you don't want to," he says, and though his voice stays steady, you see a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. He's worried that you've gotten what you want and now you'll be done with him.

"You're so silly," you say softly, and you can see how Yoongi's face twists with confusion, unsure about how to react to being called silly— you can't imagine many people have said that to him, as outwardly intimidating as he can be. You squeeze his hand. "Of course I want to. But how about we plan it tomorrow? I don't know how long it's going to take me to be comfortable with walking in a straight line, so breakfast might be off the cards for now."

After a moment, Yoongi's face takes on a satisfied expression. "That's what you said you wanted," he says, and you huff out an amused breath.

"I technically said I wanted you to bend me over a piano, actually," you point out, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck again, and Yoongi brushes his lips against your forehead.

"There's a piano in the living room," he states casually, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you, even as your eyes start to fall shut again.

"I'll keep that in mind."

–

jiminnie y/n!! tae said you called in sick for work? are you okay??

you i'm good! just a lil busy

jiminnie with what?

you [image attached]

jiminnie … why have you sent me a photo of a piano?

you yoongi's gonna fuck me on it omg on that note i've gtg BYE LOVE YOU MINNIE xoxoxo

jiminnie WHAT??? OMG??? GET THAT DICK QUEEN!!!

[ficsandgiggles]

Thumb Wars

I’m dedicating this fic to my really close friend, @tickleeteases. I miss you so so much and I know you received some sucky news recently, so I wrote this with you in mind so I hope it cheers you up!

"Okay yeah, you're both strong and powerful members of the team, but there's no way you'd be able to beat the guys in an arm wrestling match." You told Nat and Wanda with a shrug, sipping your mocktail casually as you sat between the pair. 

You pointed at Wanda, "You wouldn't be allowed to use your magic, leaving you to just be a sweetie pie which no one would dare to hurt, and you..." You pointed at Nat, cheekily poking her nose. "You may be super determined to beat them, but your super cool spy skills would be no match for Steve or Bucky." 

Nat and Wanda looked at each other with raised eyebrows. The three of you were spending some much needed time together and it was great, you watched a few films and had a couple of drinks, you managed to sneak a sip of Nat's cocktail since Wanda and Nat swore to Tony that you wouldn't drink. But other than that, you were having a great time.

"Fine, maybe not an arm wrestle, but a thumb war would be a different story." Nat replied as Wanda nodded in agreement. "Absolutely, these thumbs could destroy anyone." She said with a smirk, wriggling her thumbs, which somehow made you squirm at the sight of them.

You didn't mind being tickled at all, only Bucky had tickled you so far out of all of the Avengers, but you wouldn't complain if Wanda and Nat decided to attack you there and then, but you doubted it would happen, so you just shrugged it off and continued to playfully argue with them.

"Are you kidding? I've seen Steve's thumb lift weights!" You argued with a giggle, picturing a thumb lifting weights at the gym. Wanda just rolled her eyes, chuckling fondly.

"Sometimes it's not about strength, it's about technique." Nat added. "You need to trick the contestant into thinking you're going to go one way, when you're actually going the other, and that's when you attack!" She announced, suddenly grabbing your hand and clasping it quickly, before using her thumb to gently squish your thumb down, making you whine and shove her away.

"Fine... then what about.." You hesitated for a moment, considering if you should suggest a tickle fight. Your face flushed, deciding to push it to one side for now. "A pillow fight?"

Suddenly, you felt a soft pillow whack your face, sending you flying down onto the bed, gasping as you looked up to see Wanda and Nat laughing and high fiving each other. 

"That point definitely goes to us." Nat chuckled, exchanging a look with Wanda before they suddenly turned to face you with huge smirks on their faces. You didn't even notice Wanda using her powers to hold your arms over your head. "You want to know what other fight we can easily annihilate everyone at?" Nat asked, teasingly walking her fingers towards your exposed body.

Your eyes widened, 99% sure you knew what was about to happen, you shook your head as nervous giggles poured out of you, watching as Nat loomed over you.

"Well, we can at least crush you at a tickle fight." Nat smirked before drilling her fingers into your ribs, watching you fall into a fit of giggles. You couldn't help but thrash around as much as you could as you burst into high pitched giggles. "Aww! I knew our little Y/N would be ticklish!" Wanda teased as she sat on your legs and skittered her nails behind your knees, smiling fondly as you let out a squeal whilst trying to buck Wanda off. 

"GUHUHUHUHUYS!" You screeched, arching your back and cackling with laughter as you felt Nat scribble into your armpits. The fact that you couldn't pull your arms down made things a million times worse, but you didn't mind, and you knew that Nat and Wanda would know when to stop, you trusted them with your life, which they had actually saved multiple times.

"What? It's not like you can argue here! We're totally kicking your butt at this!" Nat teased, smiling fondly at you as Wanda moved to scribble into your soles, smirking as this caused you to shriek out with laughter. You helplessly shook your head and weakly pulled at your arms and legs.

"Wow, you really are ticklish!" Wanda gasped as she was quick to give you a break from the feet tickles by moving to join Nat at your upper body. She knelt beside you and spidered her fingers across your belly, the simple motion made you squeal and let out fits of bubbly laughter.

"NOHOHOHOHO I'M NOHOHOHOHOT!" You argued, arching your back once again to try and get a break from the tickles. A bright crimson blush spread across your cheeks as you shook your head and giggled adorably.

"You're not? Then what's this?" Nat asked, scribbling her nails all over your neck, smirking as she watched you attempt to scrunch your shoulders up to try and get rid of the sensation. 

"It seems like you're pretty ticklish to me, Y/N." Nat continued with a fond smile. She loved seeing you so care-free like this, it didn't happen often, but it was precious when it did. Both Nat and Wanda were certain that this was going to happen again to let you feel more free for a bit.

"I DOHOHOHON'T KNOHOHOHOW!" You yelped, continuing to squeal and squirm. "YOHOHOHOU'RE MEHEHEHEAN!" 

"We're mean? I'll show you mean, courtesy of my brother." Wanda announced as she slipped your top up, wasting no time in blowing a huge raspberry on your stomach, causing to to basically scream with laughter.

"AHAHAHALRIHIHIHIHIGHT! YOU'RE NOT MEHEHEAN JUST STOHOHOP!" You yelled, curling up as you felt both Nat and Wanda let go of you, allowing you to shove your shirt down and curl up, still letting out ghost giggles. 

"I-I can't.... why...?" You managed to get out as you still tried to recover, but you couldn't help but smile when you felt Wanda sit you up and pull you into a hug.

"You needed that laugh, Y/N, you've been so down in the dumps recently, we had to do something." Nat told you as she rubbed your arm soothingly. You nodded in response, not really complaining with that explanation since all of it was true. 

"Well, thank you..." You mumbled out quietly with a shy blush, hiding your face in Wanda's shoulder as both women smiled gently at you. 

"You're very welcome, Y/N, now let's go and kick some guys butts at a thumb war." Nat told you before the three of you stood up, heading out happily.

[katzkinder]

this is weirdly specific and im sorry about that but im curious! whatre your headcanons on the servamp characters favorite kinds of alcohol? any mixed drinks and stuff like that? thank you for answering ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Don’t worry anon, luckily for you, I am also weirdly specific and have concrete answers for the majority of the pairs (and some side charas!)

Mahiru: Not actually a fan of alcohol. Prefers to keep it simple with a nice rum and coke topping the list as his favorite. Very cuddly drunk. Very flirty.

Kuro: Loves mixed drinks. The more sugary and what the hell colored, the better. Blue Hawaiian is his number one. The man grew up with beer as his primary source of calories, so he thinks he deserves this. Prefers to be buzzed. Gets more social.

Hugh: Wine, but reds especially. He’s also rather fond of Pálinka. You’ll never catch him indulging too much.

Tetsu: Despite his size and what people assume about him, he actually really hates the burn. It makes him cough a lot, so you’ll find him sipping on a mocktail more often than not. He keeps trying to like wine for Hugh’s sake, but it’s just not happening. Poor guy.

Mikuni: Also doesn’t drink much, but because he hates the vulnerability being drunk would bring. Likes champagne and his favorite cocktail is an amaretto sour. Can and will sip on the same damn flute the entire time he’s at a party. Häagen-Dazs bourbon infused ice cream is a guilty pleasure of his.

Jeje: A whiskey man! Also partial to Scotch. Likes a little in the evenings, usually to help him unwind while reading. Sometimes Mikuni will join him, but it’s rare.

Iduna: Actually really likes beer. Will drink any of the boys under the table, but especially Shuuhei, who’s a light weight probably outclassed only by Licht.

Freya: Hard cider made from her own apples or mulled wine. Iduna’s also partial to the cider. Sweet enough that even Tetsu doesn’t mind it, though Lawless has his work cut out for him with keeping Licht away.

Licht: No. Do not. He gets smashed off the brandy inside brandy chocolates. Keep his drinks dry, for the love of god.

Lawless: Gin and tonic are his go-to! Also doesn’t mind the occasional beer, but like. The hipster kinds. He’s that asshole who can pick out individual notes in his drinks and really enjoys tasting sessions. Kuro thinks he should just shut up and drink so he stops annoying the rest of them.

Nicco: Another wine connoisseur! Likes to have a glass during dinner to complement whatever meal he’s eating. Can actually get pretty in depth about it. Lawless likes talking with him about the particulars.

Ildio: The type who drinks to get rowdy. He doesn’t really care; he’s here to have fun. Moonshine sounds like a good time to him. Lawless has given up.

Misono: If it’s not sweet, he doesn’t want it lol. Definitely a cocktail type of guy. His favorite is an Amarula Afterglow

Lily: Wine and Coffee Liqueur. He actually prefers Rosé over reds or whites. Also don’t be surprised if he adds a bit of brandy to his cocoa when it’s cold out. After the kids have gone to bed, of course--

Thank you so much for the ask; this was fun! If anyone has any ideas or additions, I’d love to hear them! ^^