#and he's so fucking old he's like 18 how was a 5 year old supposed to know he'd live that long when our dog before him died at 10

[ray935sworld]

Hello, hope you are doing well

I just read your child of divorce fic for the 100th time (i love it so so much) and i had a funny idea for the future, when the marc-cheating-allegations aren't new anymore and i'd love to hear your thoughts on this

So picture this: there is an interview or a podcast or whatever and some messy rider or journalist/interviewer/whatever is like "yeah maybe who knows, maybe rossi is self projecting with all the accusations of infidelity because HE is the one that cheated and tries to cover it up by throwing mud at his ex bc he can't handle the fact that the he ruined such a beautiful thing and that it is his fault alone, just like he can't handel the fact that 2015 was all his fault and needs a scapegoat that isn't him and Marc is too nice to ruin his reputation bc he still loves him?

Oh anon, my love! That was wonderful. I laughed so hard when I read this.

You definitely nailed it! (pls if you ever have another idea feel free to sent it!) That so happened!

I will definitely write a snippet about that (I'm hoping you're okay with that cause... PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE) but I can't 100% promise that it's going to be in the main story.

But it sounds very real. After a consolation with @calia23 we agreed that it was definitely Casey who dropped that. Our little Australian hater would NEVER accept Vale talking like that about his own kid. He is giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Like imagine Casey metaphorically slowly sitting down infront of a mic like "Okay... My fucking turn" and then he just spills that because why is cheating the first thing on Vale's mind? Rossi? Wanna tell us something?

And OOOOH the conspiracies that would follow - everyone is reviewing the 2015 materials to figure out who the possible mistress of rossi was (he denies it btw but nothing else was expected) and the rumors about David's possible real father resurface.

Now if we put this in 2017/18, David would be around 4-5 years old, so he'd be more conscious about what's happening. So imagine he's overhearing his grandparents or his uncles talking with his papa about that. He's hearing them say that his father (Vale) might betrayed his papa. But his papa is denying it all.

And he just doesn't know what to believe. He was told his father had listened to bad people who didn't had the best in mind for him and he fell for it. That's why he left. But he had always loved David. He was just currently being too stupid to see it. Like Marc had always been civil since he doesn't want David to grow up with resentment. But now they are suddenly openly talking about real betray?

A part of David's view definitely shatters. Like it's maybe the first time the golden view of his father really takes a blow. Of course he heard his grandparents curse Vale but Marc had always had a good explanation why they were wrong. And his papa always talks so lovingly about his father and sometimes even shows him pictures about their time. There is still a picture if Vale and Marc holding baby David on a shelf. But now there was no explanation for David. So he thinks there's no excuse, no explanation. He never asks. He's too afraid to get the confirmation from his papa that it's true.

The discussion about Vale were never done in secret too. Alex was more careful about his words but still... And now suddenly they are discussing the betray in silence? In secret? And in the Marquez house, there are no secret. So does that mean that there is some truth in the words? That's why David is kept away from it all and isn't supposed to know?

I can imagine David being very confused about his families behavior. Maybe he somehow hears about the accusation but he's too young to really understand them. He doesn't understand how deep the accusations actually run. He just understands that his father apparently broke his papa's trust in a horrible way.

And mind you, David is a child. He's taught to never lie and never hurt anyone. He is never allowed to break someone's trust, so he understands that this is bad.

Honestly I can't see Marc honestly believing the rumors. Like, at least at the till mid 2015/ Sepang 2015 they were a happy loving family, Vale very much involved and completly in love with Marc. So an affair seems too out of character. And Marc tries to be a good example for David (unlike Vale) so he doesn't want to participate in that mudd war Vale started.

Okay so those are just own quick thoughts on the matter. I hoped you like it and pls, anon - or literally anyone - what do you think?

And OMG I am so happy you like the AU so far that means SOOOOO much to me :)

[definitelynotnia]

im sorry i have to rant im so fucking pissed

my exams end on 19th and I have to get rid of some books and buy some books which are quite pricy online so I had planned on going to college street on 20th and selling my books and buying the new ones at a cheap price and i was frankly really excited about it because all I get is a one day break to relax bcz i have to start studying for entrances from 21st so all I have is 20th and i wanted to spend it at college street and then get some food and basically have like a solo date kind of thing.

and i was so so excited about it i told my boyfriend about it like 500 times bcz i kept forgetting i've already mentioned it and it was literally on my mind a lott so i kept bringing it up and ik it seems like not a big deal cz i can just sit at home and chill too but i literally do not get to go outside my house. like- the last time i went out was new years eve and after that the only time i've gone out is to school or to give my boards that is it. my mother has some weird like problem wiht me going out like even if i tell her that i just want to go to our terrace for 5 minutes just to get some fresh air she won't even allow that she'll be all suspicious and like sTaNd In ThE bAlCOnY aNd TaKe FrEsH aIr like she herself doesnt leave the house (and blames it on me and my brother ???? when have we ever stopped you bro, she said I HaVe To Be HeRe To KeEp An EyE like im 18 i dont need to be watched 24/7 stop blaming me for choices you put upon yourself) and i just feel so suffocated ALL THE TIME i feel so overstimulated and im so sick of rotting on my bed and i dont want to wait for some birthday party or friends meet up to be able to leave my goddamn house i just wanted to go and have a fun day and get me some books thats it.

anyway so initially the plan was that my mom would go along but something came up so she wanted to postpone it to 21st and i didn't want to bcz i'd already be missing 3 days bcz of my boyfriends birthday, holi and my brothers birthday (all of which are important and i dont want to miss which makes me the villain apparently bcz i should "adjust" and cancel my "parties" instead of trying to stick to my plan bcz that makes me too demanding and selfish apparently) so i suggested that ukw why dont u go do ur thing which came up and i'll go to college street by myself...which is when the solo date idea came which i had really wanted all along but didnt bring up bcz i knew she'd say no but now there's a valid reason for me to go alone so like, its a pretty easy fix i can just go alone but noooo. First of all,

I've been to college street multiple times before so its not like its an unknown area to me

im going by metro which is quite safe

im going when there is stark daylight and i will return home much much before it gets dark and im literally 18

she never lets me go anywhere alone, not even take ubers alone if i want to get back from somewhere my bf has to come drop me everytime and then go backwards to his house which is so so so stupid and i never get to go out alone unless accompanied by family or by a male friend, so obv when i said i'll go to college street alone she refused to let that happen and started screaming about how 'if its so important to go on 20th bcz u dont want to miss a day of studying then cancel ur 'parties' and study then' and i was like no its not about missing a day its just that there's a very easy and logical fix to this problem which is i go alone and its not inconveniencing anyone so why cant i just do that but she will not listen to that bcz im 'adamant' and 'everything has to be according to me' bcz i found a viable solution to the problem. so instead of letting me just go she was literally ready to pay much more money and buy the books online, like.....why cant i just go bro??? (and she keeps telling me im a waste of her money bcz i will amount to nothing in life and my education was a failed investment or wtv so like now why are u wasting more money??? im literally trying to save the money that u 'waste' on me so just let me ???)

anyway i called my dad last night and told him and he was super ok with the idea he said its a good idea that i go alone and that he would speak to her but then today when i asked her if dad spoke to her she said yes, we'll go on 20th and i was like .....we? so apparently she CANCELLED her previously immovable thing for which she wanted me to cancel my 'parties', she cancelled that and agreed to go with me on 20th just so that i dont get to go alone- like ???????????????? what is ur problemmmm

so obv i was super annoyed and i went on a whole ass rant about how i literally struggle to even cross roads bcz i dont know shit about basic travelling bcz all my life ive been in a car and its a running joke with all my guy friends that i 'cannot navigate' and 'dont know any places' and obv??? if im never allowed to go anywhere then how tf will i know the places- the only places i know is bcz recently i've been paying a lot of attention and asking my dad stuff about what roads to take to reach certain places and when i go out with my friends i kind of try and learn a bit but thats it i've only ever gone alone completely alone to two places which is my beauty parlour thats 5 minutes away from my house and one bazaar one time that was 2 bus stops away, thats it. thats my extent of public travelling alone. and now im supposed to go to a whole new STATE for college and i cant even call myself an auto without struggling. and like- is this not a basic life skill??? like ok yeah its not rocket science and i will probably figure it out even if i start later in life but why not now? most of my guy friends literally go everywhere alone, why not me? and my dad agreed with all of this but my mom was just like "you'll be in the hostel only, no need to go out of the campus" like ARE YOU FOR REAL????????? and she's like "if u want to learn skills learn how to cook" like ok yes i will also learn how to cook for sure but i wont have a fucking kitchen in the hostel but somehow cooking is an urgent skill i should learn but going places by myself is unimportant bcz i should just never? leave? the? hostel?

anyway after much screaming and shouting my dad gave up and just cut the call bcz he doesnt want to get into an argument with my mother and my mother was being all suspicious like why do u hAvE tO gO aLoNe AlL oF a SuDdEn even though i literally explained why i want to do this alone but she doesnt think thats valid. so she refuses to let me go and i asked her for one reason why i shouldnt cz usuallt its always "no u have exam what if smthn happens" but now i literally dont even have exam so whats ur excuse now? streets will always be unsafe forever so "what if smthn happens" is not a reason to never let me go out without a man so just gimme one reason and she couldnt give me a single reason she just said "i said no, thats it".

and now she's gone off about how im useless and blah blah and "high maintainance" bcz i want books and "everyone else (some pishi's son) just studies online" and so the whole option of college street is apparently now cancelled and she's trying to set up a whole ass kindle account (half the books i need arent even available as ebooks) just because i wanted to go by myself.

[pokotho]

me, about to start a chore i don't particularly enjoy but know that i have to do: *exhale*

my mom: you know i work so much harder than you and im so much more tired than you and you have the f u c k i n g nerve to be tired???? why are you mad at me i do so much for this house i do all the work and all you do is fucking hate me im so fucking t

[jungkookstatts]

Not in the Way You Think

[Summary]: You've been after your best friend for ages. But how are you supposed to know that he's after you too if he insists on being a bachelor until his dying breath?

[Theme]: ChildHoodFriendsToLovers!AU, NonIdol!AU, VirginReader!AU, BachelorJK!Au, Fuck-Boy JK, Virgin Reader

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, dry humping, protected sex, fluff, somewhat angst, many many years of pining, making out, oral. Soft dom/Dom JK, sub Reader, virgin things, mention of alcohol and a pen

[Word Count]: 6,043

[A/N]: Hi. I've resurrected. For now. Enjoy! Also, if anyone knows what's going on with my materialist -- sos!!

[Materialist]

“Sorry, but there’s no fucking way,” your best friend scoffs against the lip of his dab pen. He was about to take a hit, but was abruptly stopped before you told him something completely unbelievable to his ears.

“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you whine.

God, this is so embarrassing. You fiddle with the rims of your hoodie's sleeve, examining it in shame. You can’t dare to look at the face of your best friend on the other side of the couch. His words already make you feel embarrassed enough, you can’t imagine what looking at his face would do.

“Y/n,” he starts again, that disbelieving smirk proving to adorn his features. “You’re 24 years old. What the fuck.”

“24-year-olds can be virgins, too, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes. “Not everyone strives to have over 30 bodies on their ‘fucked list’ by this age.”

You feel so embarrassed. Of all people, you thought your best friend wouldn’t shame you like this. It’s already embarrassing enough to be at this age and to not have tried anything sexual with anyone before. You’re inexperienced. You know that. But the conversation originally didn’t start this way. What was once a talk about which flavored soju was better than the other, turned into a ridiculing conversation about your lame sex life. The last thing you need is his bantering about how shocking it is to hear everything you haven’t done yet.

“57,” he corrects you with yet another smirk. This time, there’s a tease in his eye, obviously waiting for your reaction on his body count number. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “Forget it.” 

You try to grab the remote on the coffee table, but Jungkook takes it before you can. 

“Wait, now,” he laughs when you smack his arm. “I’m not done asking about this yet.” 

“Jungkook!” you whine. “I’m seriously so embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about it with you anymore.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?!” He raises his pierced eyebrow. “What about Taehyung? And Soobin? Aren’t those guys your ex’s? You had to have done something with them, Y/n, c’mon.” 

“Yes!” you blush harshly. “Of course I’ve kissed people before. I’ve just never…done anything dirty with them.” 

“Not even like a hand job or anything?” he raises his other eyebrow.

“Jungkook, please stop reacting like that. You’re making me feel worse,” you tuck your hair behind your ear. 

It’s no news that Jungkook is not only your childhood best friend but he’s also been a notorious fuck-boy since about 5 years ago when the two of you moved to a different city to attend the same college. He has always told you that he was going to spend his university life being a bachelor, making it a goal of his to see how many girls he could get underneath him by the age of 25. He's gathered quite a lot. Except now, he’s more knowledgeable than you for once, and you’re not taking the news so well.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. But his words prove to be carried with no remorse. “Not even oral?” 

“Jungkook!” you kick his knee. “Seriously. I continued this conversation with you because I thought you’d be nicer about it. You’re obviously the experienced one here. But clearly, you’re not experienced enough to know that not everyone is constantly looking for which sexual activity to try on the next stranger.” 

You’ve been his #1 ear to all of his stories for years now, no matter how repetitive they can be…or how much they secretly punch you in the gut every time he tells you a new one.

The two of you couldn’t be more opposite. He’s sporty and social, you’re quiet and mellow. He’s into the music and business world, whereas you’re into radiology and all-things-hospital. He’d rather spend his free time partying and making himself feel good in any way that he can, whereas you’d spend your free time wrapped in a book or having coffee over a new podcast about aliens.

But no matter your differences, the grunge boy that you grew up with sitting on the opposite side of the couch, making fun of you and laughing at the sheer difference in how the two of you chose to live out your college years, will always be your best friend. He might remain a crush or even your first love, but nothing can change the fact that the two of you click like two peas in a pod. You couldn’t trade anything for that, even your secrets about what you feel for him. 

“Woah, hey,” he chuckles. “Sorry. I’m just–wow. It’s just shocking to me, I don’t know. Especially for you.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scrunch your eyebrows together. 

“Well, I mean,” he laughs awkwardly, putting his pen on the table. “It’s no secret you were the girl every guy was trying to get into their bed all throughout college…and high school.” 

“Tch,” you shake your head. “As if, Kook. Don’t try to make up for ridiculing me about my sex life by covering it up with fake scenarios.”

“I’m serious, Y/n. Just as serious as you are about this,” he says. “You thought that Soobin, the university's #1 crush–a guy even more wanted than me–would agree to go out with you and date you if you weren’t the hottest chick in the school?” 

“Yeah, well, that was short-lived,” you scoff, remembering the events of your break up. “He didn’t really want me. Or well, he did, but not like how I thought.”

“This is why I’m shocked,” he explains further. “Literally every man that I knew talked about you. I don’t know how their efforts could have gone unnoticed by you. But I guess you were too in your head to notice. You had the hottest man in the school, but not even that was enough to even make you think about doing anything with him?” 

As much as that information flatters you, it doesn’t satisfy you at all. Truthfully, Jungkook could talk about any man in the world that might want you. But if that category doesn’t include him, the thought doesn’t arouse you at all. 

Your own brain can’t even wrap itself around why you were so hung up on him. Why would you possibly want a guy like Jungkook to want you. He’s careless and reckless. He doesn’t give things a second thought and pushes all your buttons at the worst times. He’s foolish and irresponsible – a walking stick screaming ‘bad news’.

But at the same time, he is oh-so gentle. He’s kind and sweet, considerate and respectful. His touch makes you jolt, and his voice relieves your headaches in an instant. You feel safe when he is there, and absolutely terrified when he is not. He’s strong and capable, but also sentimental at heart. 

You don’t think you could find anyone else like him in the world. No one like your Jungkook. 

No wonder your past relationships didn’t work out for you. Taehyung you broke up with out of frustration. It was with him that you realized that Jungkook was too in your head to be dating anyone fairly. And just when you thought you were over Jungkook being your ideal man, Soobin walked into your life. But since he broke up with you over your own inexperience, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about how maybe you waited too long. No one wants someone who has no idea what they’re doing in the bedroom at the age of 24. Most of society at this age is dating to marry. You’re still dating for the experience. 

“It’s not that I didn’t think about doing anything with him,” you respond. “I just–I don’t know. I couldn’t. It didn’t feel right. He wasn’t–I don’t know. We just weren’t a good match. The same goes for Taehyung and everyone else before him and Soobin.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, trying to wrap his head around everything that you’re saying.

“But it’s all irrelevant now,” you continue. “We’re graduated, and there’s nothing I can do about previous male efforts towards getting me in their sheets. It’s just–there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Clearly,” Jungkook agrees. “Sex is like–life. You truly don’t know until you try. Do you even masturbate?” 

“Jungkook,” you sigh quietly, as a disappointed palm presses against your forehead. “You weren’t supposed to agree to that.” 

“Well, do you?” 

“Of course, I masturbate.” 

“And that hasn’t persuaded you at all? Don’t you imagine what it would feel like to have something other than your fingers or some toy getting you off?” 

“That’s so graphic,” you scowl. 

“Well, do you?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I do, don’t get me wrong,” you agree. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just too hung up on a scenario that’s not possible–at least not for me.”

“You’re pined after by millions, Y/n,” he sits up straight on the couch, his legs folding against the cushions to get a better look at you. “Any scenario is possible in your world. Especially related to sex. You could get any man that you wanted to if you just broke down a wall or two and went after them.” 

“That’s not–never mind,” you give up. You’re too embarrassed to admit anything. You also don’t really want to. Risking your friendship with Jungkook isn’t worth letting out a secret like this. You’d lose him forever, and you can’t risk that. “No one wants a 24-year-old virgin,” you begin again, trying to move on from your previous words. “Unless they’re a crazy perv, or one of those dudes who thinks that only ‘marriageable girls’ should be virgins until they tie the knot. And, well, those guys are just…weird.” 

Jungkook laughs at your words and a small smile forms on your lips from the sound of his laugh. 

“Y/n, what are you saying?” he exclaims amidst his laughter. “Look at you! You haven't lost a cent of your desirability in all the years I’ve known you. Any guy would want you.”

“But not you,” 

“Huh?” 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Why did you just say that?! 

The thought slipped past your lips without a second thought. There’s heat in your cheeks, and you can’t bear to look at Jungkook’s face. You might have fucked everything up now. Just over a thought you didn’t think twice about. Your brain must have been done suppressing it, but now you have to sit here and wait for the consequences of letting it all go. 

“Sorry,” you clear your throat. “C-Can you give me the remote? I’d like to drop this and finish this show.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he laughs in disbelief. His rough hand gently wraps around your wrist, forcing you to look at him again. “What did you just say?” 

“Jungkook, please,” you cry. There’s fear in your voice. You’re so scared of losing him, you can’t even think properly. All you want to do is pretend like nothing happened. Like this whole conversation didn’t happen and you were back to talking about flavored soju. The thought of losing your best friend floods your mind, and you beg him with your eyes to stop. But he’s unrelenting. 

Jungkook scoffs at the look in your eye, his grip loosening on your wrist before sliding it off completely. 

“Y/n, you are so oblivious, it actually gets on my nerves more than anything in this world sometimes,” he says. 

You feel your heart sink to your stomach. 

“I didn’t think I’d actually have to tell you this because I thought it was obvious how I feel about you,” he laughs to himself. “I don’t know how long you’ve noticed, or if you’ve even noticed at all, but I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year of high school, Y/n. And it’s only grown since then. So don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t want you.” 

Words fail to leave your lips. You’ve had so much shock and embarrassment during your time spent with him tonight. But nothing could have prepared you for this. 

“Jungkook, none of this is making sense,” you stop him. As much as your heart leaps at his confession, a part of you is still completely misunderstanding something. “You mean to tell me that you’ve had a crush on me for how long? And yet in the meantime, you’ve made it your mission to be with every woman on campus? How in the world do you expect me to think you had feelings for me when every Saturday morning you tell me about whose pussy you were up the night before? How was I supposed to know?”

There’s a bit of anger in your voice. All these years of getting your heart shattered over his countless stories about girls that weren’t you. About how he kissed Emily on Friday night and then fucked her best friend, Rachel, in the ass a few hours later. About how he went all the way home one weekend just to fuck your high school calculus teacher. Or about the countless times you’ve walked into your shared apartment with him, only to look down and see an extra pair of girly high-heels sitting by the door next to his shoes. Or the many pairs of unfamiliar panties you’ve found in the wash. Or the smell of strong perfume constantly stained on his side of the couch. 

“How in the world did I expect you to think I had feelings for you?” he reiterated your questions irritably. “Y/n, I asked you to be my date to prom! Hell, don’t even try to cut out the fact that we almost kissed when we graduated high school. I hung out with you every day after school in both high school and college. Fuck, half the reason I came to this university was to be by your side. We even have an apartment together!” 

“You’re my best friend, Jungkook!” you explain. 

“You don’t have to remind me,” he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I gave up trying to make us anything more than friends a while ago. Fuck, every time I lay with a girl it’s the biggest reminder of all that we’ll only be friends.” 

“Fuck you, Jungkook,” you cry. A tear falls down your cheek from his words. God, you’re so frustrated and angry and annoyed and so relieved. You don’t know which emotion to put first. “Fuck you. You shattered me into pieces. You call me oblivious when I’ve spent years loving you. But you’ve been too busy telling me about who you’re going to fuck next to notice." 

Jungkook breathes heavily, anger leaving his nostrils. His eyes are foreign to yours. You’ve never seen so much emotion in them at once. 

And then suddenly he’s on your side of the couch, hovering over you, holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm. His lips sear against yours kissing you with passion you’ve never felt before. 

It’s second nature to hold his face in your hands. His ears slip between your middle and index finger; the cool metal of his earrings touches your skin gently. 

You moan into him when you glide your right hand into his locks, pressing him tighter against your body. Jungkook grunts at the feeling of your hand in his hair. Never in a million years did he think he'd feel you like this. No matter how many times he’s imagined it before, no matter how many times he’s pretended it was you instead of the stranger beneath him, the feeling of imagining you is nothing compared to the feeling of actually having you right there in his arms. 

You can feel him lay his weight heavier on you the more you kiss him. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against your body. 

Jungkook’s lips detach from yours slowly, his thumb lightly pressing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. 

“I’m sorry,” he kisses you again slowly. It’s wet and soft, but you don’t mind. It’s him, and he feels right. “I guess we gave each other too many mixed signals.” 

You kiss him back, holding his chin between your index finger and thumb. 

“Are my signals clear now?” you ask him gently. 

“If you’re telling me that you want me…more than just friends,” he presses his nose against yours. “Then they’re clear as day.” 

You smile against his lips when he indulges on you again. Jungkook kisses you slowly and softly for another few minutes. It’s much different from the kissing you did a few minutes ago. This time, he’s gentle, and so are you. Your hands find purchase at the base of his scalp again, and you smile as he moans at the feeling. This is a whole new learning curve for you, and you’re finally going through lessons you’ve restricted yourself from accessing for a very long time. It feels so good. It feels amazing to have him in your arms like this. 

But still, somehow there’s something missing. There’s a pit in your stomach, a wetness in between your thighs that begs you to rub up against him. And so you do, but you’re stopped with a firm hand on your hip from the man above you. You suddenly feel embarrassed again. 

"Y/n,” he pants against your lips. He looks down at your conjoined hips. A part of him feels embarrassed at the sight–he doesn’t think he’s been more hard in his life. But he respects you more than to indulge in his own fantasy right now. “You’re still a virgin,” he reminds you. 

“I know,” you exhale. “But I want you, Kook. I want you to be the one to take it.” 

“Y/n,” he coos, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I think you should think about it. I’m not the most romantic person in bed. I also don’t think I’m cut out to be your first. I don’t deserve you like that.” 

“Don’t say that Jungkook,” you scrunch your eyebrows together. “You say that as if I haven’t been imagining you in the same way that you imagine me. You say that as if I haven’t been waiting for 10 years to kiss you like this. I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long, and I think this moment is why I haven’t been able to indulge in sex with anyone else. I feel right with you.” 

You watch his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. He’s lazy with his decision on which to focus on right now. His heart is so overwhelmed, he doesn't know which feature of yours to honor first. 

“What are you doing to me,” he laughs at himself. You smile back at him, and he swears nothing has ever been more right than how it is at this moment. 

“Will you take me, Jungkook?” you ask him again, much softer this time. It sounds strange coming from your mouth. You’ve never asked anyone to do that for you. The only person you’ve wanted, or have imagined, taking it away from you has been Jungkook. And here he is above you. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your words send all the blood straight to his cock, as if it didn’t have enough blood in it already. “If that’s what you want.” 

“It’s what I want,” you confirm with him. “I want you.” 

“God, I want you, too,” he says, kissing you passionately yet again. This time, he scoops you into his arms, sitting you up on his lap. You straddle him perfectly, your thighs hugging his, and your core pressed temptingly against his own. 

Jungkook moans at the feeling, his hands finding purchase on your hips before slowly grinding them against his own. 

Your hands fall from his jaw to his shoulder, the feeling of his clothed dick against your pussy is much more shocking than you thought it would be. Never in a million years did you think such a strange action would feel so good. 

“Kook,” you whine against his lips. 

He breathes lightly against yours, trying to keep his composure as you make yourself feel good on his thighs. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently. His hands remain on your hips until you nod, giving him permission to explore your body in whichever way he would like to first. 

He watches your face as he slides his hands up to your waist. His fingers make their way under your silk pajama shirt, causing you to jolt at the feeling of his skin against yours. It puts a desire in your heart that you’ve never felt before. You’ve never wanted to explore anyone else like this. 

“C-Can I touch you?” You ask him this time. 

Jungkook laughs a little at you asking for his permission. In a way, he’s not really used to that. He finds it endearing that even though he’s fucked a lot of girls in his lifetime, the fact doesn’t take away that he’s still worthy of asking something like that to you. The other part of him laughs as if he’d ever say no to you. 

“Please,” he gives you permission. 

With that, you look at the fabric of his shirt leaning against his collarbone. His typical black shirt covers just enough to make you curious. 

But your eyes move to your own hands, which are delicately mimicking his actions, except they start by pushing up his shirt from the bottom. Your fingertips feel his abs underneath them. They’re defined, and you hate to admit that they make you really nervous. 

Your eyes flick to his, and they read your mind like a book. 

With one motion, he takes his hands off your waist and pulls his shirt off, revealing all his glory to you in one quick second. 

You take a deep breath, and he chuckles a little. But his laughs stop the minute you touch him again. They slide up his abs, your fingertips feeling his honey skin underneath you. They slide to his arm, covered in ink. They’re a perfect representation of him, and you haven’t told him enough how much you love them. They’re passionate and edgy, handsome and strong, but gentle and honest all at the same time. 

You almost get lost in his ink when he slides his fingers further up your shirt. 

Your breath stops in your throat when he grazes his fingers on the underside of your boob. You’re not wearing a bra, and the fact only excites Jungkook more. 

But he wants to be patient with you, even though he knows that the two of you want this so badly. 

“Can I?” he asks again. 

“Yes,” you give him permission in a whisper. 

With that, he slides the silk fabric up and over your shoulder, his breath stopping in his throat when he sees you. 

“Fuck Y/n,” he breathes out. He looks to you for permission again to touch you, and you nod with a small smile on your face. 

Jungkook gently cups the underside of your breasts, his body leaning forward as he does so. His lips wrap around your nipple and you gasp when he twirls his tongue around your sensitive bud. 

The sensation prompts you to press your hips deeper against his, eliciting the sweetest sound from his throat. His black jeans frustrate him, the barrier is too thick between you and him. 

He sucks on you harder before popping off and transferring his torture to your other nipple. Your pussy feels like it’s almost gushing arousal from his mouth alone. A raspy moan leaves your mouth as he gently bites on your bud, prompting you to tug at his hair. 

“K-Kook,” you moan. “Please,” you beg. 

Jungkook pops off your nipple, his mouth trailing kisses up to your neck. His hands slide up your back, holding you close against his chest as he kisses and sucks on the sweetest parts of your neck. You know he’s learning you, and you’re 100% willing to let him continue. 

“I want you inside of me,” you pant against his ear. “Please, Kook. I want you.” 

Jungkook pulls away, resting his hands on your waist again. 

He looks at you with more seriousness now, although his lips are red and swollen and his skin is starting to shimmer with the slightest bit of sweat. 

“Are you sure?” He asks you again.

“Yes,” you hold his cheek. 

“Okay,” he smiles. 

With that, he stands up with you wrapped around his waist. You know where you’re going, and you giggle against his neck at the fact that this is reality. You’re in his arms, your skin against his, and he’s on his way to make you feel closer to him than you ever have before. This is the only man that you’d let do this to you, you’ve realized. And the relief that it is finally happening makes you giddy and so so happy on the inside. You can’t help but hold him closer. 

Jungkook gently lays you on his sheets. They smell like him, and you feel warm inside when he tops off the scent with himself hovering over you. 

“Have you…you know,” he gulps. “Used anything before?” 

“Like a dildo?” you clarify. 

“Yeah,” he kisses your neck again. He’s completely overwhelmed with you. He can’t stop kissing you, and he doesn't want to stop anytime soon. The urge to mark you as his own–to show every man that you belong to him–is so strong. He can’t help being so proud that this has finally happened. That you’re with him, and that this is the start of something new between the two of you. 

“Other than my fingers,” you sigh. “No, not really.” 

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, uncomfortably fiddling with the zipper of his jeans. What you said made his dick hurt with arousal. His jeans are too tight on him now, and he wants to feel all of your skin against his. 

You watch him take off his jeans, feeling overwhelmed by the look of his cock springing free underneath his gray Calvin’s. 

“S-Sorry,” he apologizes for the change in pace. “They were getting tight.” 

“I can see why,” you exhale. 

You feel taken aback by Jungkook’s size. It’s still clothed by his boxers, and he already looks like he’s going to rip you open. No wonder he is in such high demand. 

“I’ll prep you,” he promises. “N’ go slow.” 

You watch him give himself a few pumps over his boxers, closing his eyes from the feeling of releasing a little bit of tension. He smiles when his eyes land on your face, your eyes completely fixated on his dick. 

“Something caught your eye?” he laughs at the expression on your face. 

“Shut up,” you smile. 

Your breath stills when he hooks his fingers around the rim of your pants, asking your eyes for permission before he continues. You allow him, and soon you’re left in just a pair of boy shorts with a huge stain soaking at your core. The sight has Jungkook immediately leaning himself on his elbows against the mattress to get a better look. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, sliding his hands on the underside of your thigh. He pushes your legs up, examining you for the first time. “You’re soaked, Y/n.” 

“S-Shut up,” you shy. “Do something already.” 

Jungkook laughs at your embarrassment, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding it up and off your body. 

“As you wish,” he whispers against your core. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth gently envelopes your clit. He sucks on it as you squirm beneath him, the intensity of his pleasure feeling like it’s going to be a lot to handle. 

You slide your fingers into his hair when he plays at your entrance. It’s so wet, and he can’t control himself from sliding his finger in, knuckles deep, as you moan from his actions. 

Your responses only fuel his fire, causing him to lap you up even more, to slip another finger in and curl it up into your g-spot. He can feel you tense, and he knows you’re close. He wants you to get there, but you stop him before he has the chance to. 

“Want you, Kook,” you whine. “I wanna cum with you.” 

“You wanna cum with me?” he restated your statement as a question. 

You nod feverishly against his pillows, your eyes coming to lock with his. 

“I want you inside of me when you make me feel good,” you explain. “That’s how I want it.” 

Jungkook gulps. Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard. 

“If that’s how you want it,” he smiles. 

With a swift motion, he gets up to take off his boxers, his dick slapping against his abdomen as he does so. 

It's almost comical how quickly he reaches for a condom in his nightstand drawer, slipping it on while his eyes stay right on yours. They tell you he’s been longing for you for so long. That this moment was one that he always dreamt of, but never thought would become a reality. You can only hope that yours convey the same. 

Jungkook hovers over you again, his tip lining up with your entrance. 

“Are you sure you want this? I can stop right now if you want me to,” he asks you again. There’s a worry in his eyes, as if he doesn’t think he’s the right one to take this from you. 

“I want you, Koo. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Please take me,” you plea. 

You watch that man above you gulp before he kisses the tip of your nose. He rests his elbows on the sides of your head, trapping you underneath him. With a kiss, you feel the burn of being stretched suddenly flood your system. He pushes in slowly, your back arching into him as he struggles to find a normal breathing pace. 

It hurts, but he goes slow. He’s aware of your discomfort, and he wants you to say something before he continues. 

“S’ this okay?” he asks you. 

When you look down, you realize he’s only half way, and your head tilts back against sheets. He’s so big, you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Mmhm,” you grip his shoulders. “You can move, Kook.” 

Jungkook pulls out, and then goes back in quicker and deeper this time. The feeling causes you to dig your nails into the skin of his back, the pain and pleasure bringing you to a high you’ve never felt before. 

“Ahh- Y/n,” Jungkook moans on top of you. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he keeps a steady and slow pace. “You feel so good,” he pants against your skin. 

“F-Faster, Kook,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Mm,” he hums, happily obliging to your request. 

Jungkook speeds up the pace, his hips slapping against yours lewdly. There's so much liquid shared between the two of you, but neither of you care. It feels too good to stop. 

“M’ feel good, baby?” He asks you, hovering his lips above yours. “This what you wanted?” 

“Y-Yes,” you cry, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the name he called you.

Jungkook suddenly takes your hips in his hands firmly. Sitting on the back of his heels, his body towers over you before ramming his hips into yours again. The action causes you to tilt your head back, feeling fuller than you were just a minute ago in this new position. 

“Yeah?” He licks his lips. His face looks demonic–like an actual sex demon is on top of you right now. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by this fat cock so bad, didn’t you, hm?” 

Jungkooks fingers grip your hips tighter, slamming them against his own even harder than he did before. You can feel him against your cervix, hitting your g-spot with every exit and entrance of his cock in your pussy. 

“Wanted you so bad, Koo,” you cry. 

You feel your toes start to curl, and a part of you feels scared that you might cum too quickly. You want this to last longer. 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip. Hearing you say that makes his head go fuzzy. The girl he’s wanted for so long, the girl he thought he could never have, is finally his. And he’s a part of something that is so special to you, he feels honored and overwhelmed all at the same time. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my dick?” 

“K-Kook,” you whine. “S-Say you wanted me, too. S-Say–” 

“Fuck, Y/n, I wanted you so bad,” he grunts at the thought. He feels angry for the time he’s lost due to thinking one thing when it was actually the other. He could have been with you like this every night. He could have been loving you and holding your hand, and kissing you all day long had he just grown a pair and done it earlier. He should have kissed you at graduation all that time ago. Or maybe even earlier at prom. He’s wanted you all along. And thinking about how he felt when you got together with Taehyung and Soobin made him feel a jealousy he’s never felt before. He can only imagine what he’s done to you. The fact that he had someone new every night to talk to you about makes his heart hurt with the fact that telling you those things might have shattered your heart into dust just as you dating someone else did to his own. 

“I wanted you then, and I want you now, and I want you after,” he continues. “I don’t want to let you go ever again.” 

Your back arches from his words, your neck falling back from the pleasure and the pain all at once. 

“Koo,” you grab onto his wrist. “I think I’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip again. His hair falls in front of his face as he watches your breasts move with his dick inside of you. “Cum for me baby, I’m not that far behind.” 

Jungkook falls on top of you again. But this time, he brings your legs up over his shoulders, pushing into you even further than before. You’re starting to think he has an endless cock. Every new position he puts you in, you feel another inch inside of you. 

You feel a white heat wash over you, and somehow you see stars as he continuously moves his dick in you harshly. 

“A-Ahh,” you hear him moan. “You’re so tight–m’ gonna cum,” he tells you against your ear. “S’ that–that alright?” 

He holds out until you let him, nodding into his cheek, too blissed out from your orgasm to form a worded response. 

His thrusts get sloppy after you give him permission. The last few of them are hard and deep before you feel his dick pulse inside of you. A stream of sweet moans and your name falls from his lips as he releases inside of you. Out of all the music in the world, this is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. 

After a few moments to catch a breath, he pulls out, not wanting any of his cum to leak out of the condom as he begins to soften from his post-sex glory. Jungkook kisses you gently, moving your hair off your sweaty face. He kisses your cheek and your forehead before tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” he asks you gently. 

You laugh at his question. Hell, you were more than okay. Your best friend, first love, and current love, just took your virginity. Although you know you have a lot to experience in the sexual world, you whole-heartedly believe that it cannot get any better than this. 

“Yes, are you?” you ask him back. 

Jungkook laughs in the same way that you laughed at him. 

“Is it safe to say that you’re my girlfriend now?” he asks. 

“Only if the feeling is mutual.” 

-----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts, 2023 ]

[rennorthernlights]

Breaking You In

Ghost X Reader/OC——————————————————————————————

Brief Summary: Hiding your identity as an Omega is nothing new but hiding it in an Elite Taskforce is harder than you thought.

Your callsign is Mustang due to your stubbornness and the “Fuck You” attitude that you tend to embody. You take your heat-blocking pills religiously until they don’t come in anymore.

Just what you need… The beginning of Pre-heat is starting to show and your losing your mind with how annoying the Lieutenant is being.

(There’s no description of what Mustang looks like. I just wanted to name her that.)

——————————————————————————————

MINORS DNI+18 AND UP ONLY Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Non-Con to Dub-Con, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Aggressive Behavior, Aggressive Sex, Spanking, Dom/Sub, Forced Submission, Overstimulation, Ghost Ain’t A Good Guy In This But He’s Hot, Forced Bonding, Forced Mating, Semi-Public Sex, Semi-Clothed Sex, Breeding Kink, Ghost Tryna Be A Dad And Daddy, Choking, Hands On Throat, Tell Me If I Missed Any

MINORS DNI+18 AND UP ONLY

——————————————————————————————

The world has a love for Alphas in the military, they’re stronger and aggressive, good for the firefights and the bullets. Dominant and steelier compared to the Betas. Many of the Alphas tend to hold the higher positions in the military just due to their second nature alone. Leading most of the military fields save for the Betas that manage to keep up with them. Even the elite Taskforces are no different due to them being chalk full of Alphas and a handful of Betas. Only the best of the best is needed after all.

Omegas on the other hand… now that’s a different story. Most Omegas that choose to work have more of the “Less-Stressful” jobs. At least that’s what the unspoken rule is supposed to be. Some old-fashioned Alphas and even Betas would say that a good Omega is an Omega with their legs spread for a knot and filled with pups. Made to only raise the young and be good for their better mates. Depending on who you talk to it’s practically looked down upon if an Omega has a job.

Docile. Sweet. Easy.

That is what the world expects of Omegas. At least that’s what THEIR world expects. When you first presented as an Omega at the young age at 12 years old you refused to stay seated. Not surprising since your moms an Alpha and your dads a Beta, if anything they were more surprised that their daughter turned out to be an Omega.

“Just keep your head down.” Is what your mother would say to you over and over again. Snapping at you when you started doing things an Alpha or Beta would do. Their own views on how to train up an Omega became demeaning and suffocating. Even going so far that when you turned 18 years old your mother set you up with an old Alpha suitor.

With no foreseeable way out and your future hanging by tiny threads you did the only thing you could think of. Something drastic and life changing that could take you far away from your parents and that would-be suitor.

You signed up for the military.

18 years old and you dived headfirst into it. Inhaling nearly every heat-blocking pill on the market to hide what you are. Going against the rules and forging your documents. It’s amazing that you haven’t been caught but as long as you keep taking the pills there’s not much to worry about. Besides your CO’s would’ve blamed you if you caused the alphas to go into a rut if you chose to keep your heats. So what if you have to take some experimental pills? It keeps you safe and keeps you far away from your parents and the old Alpha your parents wanted you to mate.

Now, that was 5 years ago. 5 years of putting blood, sweat and tears into your military career. 23 years old and you gained the nickname “Mustang” for being far too stubborn and forward for your own good. Having an argumentative streak with your CO’s and calling them out for shitty plays on the battlefield. It’s no wonder that when the Captain of the 141 read over your file that he immediately requested for you to join. Seeing the potential in you and fire in your eyes reminded him of his Beta, Gaz.

At first you thought it was a joke, a jest that he’d want someone with only 5 years of experience, at least until you realized that he was dead serious in his inquiry. The Alpha Captain became deadset on taking you under his wing to help mold you into something better.

Upon meeting the team, you got along like dry leaves in a fire when you met Gaz, a kind and ever-patient Beta Sergeant. Nearly had your minds meld together when meeting Soap, the demolition Sergeant, and in time he told you with complete trust that he’s an Omega. The 141 treat him normally and as if he’s not just his nature was very eye opening to say the least, to see a fellow Omega be treated so well nearly made you come clean. But you digress, you trust them with your life but not something like this.

You got along well, building up lifelong bonds all except for the Lieutenant… he’s as Soap likes to call him. “A spooky bastard.” Hard and tough around the edges, as prickly as a cactus and even more of a hardass when it comes to drills.

Though it’s to be expected especially from the way he’s always in a corner, brooding with hardly a tell of an emotion with that skull mask of his on. Doesn’t help that he’s always quick to spot your mistakes. Every single mistake. Quicker to growl a sneer when you butt heads. Though you hate to begrudgingly admit that you’ve learned more under his watchful eyes. Amber brown eyes that always seem to be on you the second you’re in sight.

Though it’s been like that for months; you’ve had an easy rhythm with the Sergeants and you fall right into step with the Alpha Captain but for some reason. You and the Lieutenant? It’s like the two of you can’t see eye to eye. Doesn’t help that he’s been constantly hovering over you, being an unwanted guardian as he wards off the other Betas and Alphas. His scent always around you and sometimes on you much much to the increasingly teasing Sergeants. An almost knowing look in Soaps eyes when he smelled Ghost on you… again.

Your clothes somehow carry his scent like as if he’s rolling around in it. You swear that if it wasn’t for the pills you take you would’ve gone into heat a couple months ago. It’s annoying that the Lieutenant, the bane of your existence, gets his scent on you. Wards off the guys and ladies that you used to have one-night stands with. The soldiers fearing the wrath from a man who isn’t even your mate and you hate that he’s fucking with your ability to get laid these past couple months.

It reaches a boiling point when the Captain is put on a month-long bedrest, no longer able to play mediator between the two of you. Hell, even the Sergeants have a hard time breaking up the yelling matches you both have.

“Have some fucking respect.”

“Maybe try earning it.” You growl back, postering at him like an Alpha would. The other soldiers already leaving the breakroom to not have to deal with whatevers going on between the two of you.

The latest argument you’re having is over something useless that you can’t be bothered to remember. All you know is that he said something that’s pissing you off. Doesn’t help that the latest request for your heat-blocking pills haven’t been cleared just yet. You told Price in confidence a couple months back about what your second nature is, course you got an earful, but he swore he’d keep it to his grave. Normally he’s is quick to have them sent in but since he’s been on bedrest the paperwork has just been sitting in his office desk drawer collecting dust. You’ve already been off it for a week, swallowing your immense pride, you had sent in the request to a higher up that Price trusts but for some reason they never come in.

Your body is going through the drawbacks. That scent of yours has been jumping from sour to sweet throughout the days making your hormones shoot up dangerously. Hindbrain starting to encourage your pre-heat to flush out the remaining toxins of the pills. Any other team and you’d be scared but due to how well Soap is treated, you’re not too worried. So far no one has called you an Omega or even tried to imply what you are, and you would prefer to keep it like that.

The Lieutenant scoffs at your audacity pulling you from your thoughts as you shake your head of them. “I think I’ve earned plenty of your respect since I’ve saved your hide more times than I can count,” dark amber eyes narrowed as he stares down at you. “Omega.” Smelling out your second nature and it makes you freeze up. Your hands balling into tight fists as you fight the instinct of running away. A whisper in your ear that you should just stop antagonizing him but no. No, you press on.

Standing up straighter and if your glare could deepen any more then it would. “Don’t call me that, Ghost.” Distain towards him as your scent spikes up in a sweetening anger. Pre-heat befuddling your mind as you nearly bared your throat when he called you by your nature.

“What should I call you then, Mustang?” Taking a large whiff of the room. His eyes darkening, “You smell like an Omega.” Taking a step forward and you feel more acutely aware of how it’s really just you and him in the breakroom. “Smell just like one in pre-heat too.”

He lunges forward. “Hey! What are you—?!” An alarm goes off in your head to get away as he moves far too quickly for you to scramble and evade him, large hands grabbing and shoving you against the wall. “Let go!” You yell and throw your fist forward that he easily catches. Gripping hard and snatching your other hand to force them over your head. His thigh sliding hard between your legs as you breath in sharply. “You fucking basta-“ thick fingers shove into your mouth, you gag and cough at the sudden intrusion. Eyes watering in response and you see the blatant amusement in his eyes. Anger riling up so you bite down on the fingers forcing him to yank them out.

Guess he didn’t like that as grabs your neck with the same bitten fingers. “Feisty little Omega.” Squeezing your throat causing you to gasp as his grip hardens until you start to see spots. “No wonder you’ve been acting the way you’ve been. Heat coming up now that you ain’t downing those pills. Just need an Alpha to put you in your place, yeah?” The muscles in his thigh tense as grinds it against your core. Releasing just enough pressure from your neck that makes you gasp and gulp for air. If your brain worked faster you would’ve caught on to the fact that he knows you take pills.

“F-Fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” brown eyes rolling, “Always such a mouth on you.” Moving his hand down your throat, ghosting over the mounds of your breast till he cups one through your shirt and squeezes. “Maybe a knot will make you easier to work with. Make you nice and pliant. When’s the last time you’ve been fucked anyways?” A grin under his mask as he knows exactly how long it’s been for you.

Your heart beating wildly as your teeth nearly stab into your lip to bite back a moan. His thumb pressing on the nub of your nipple through your bra and shirt. “No smart mouth, no snippy remark? Guess I finally shut you up.” Smirking under his mask as he spots the table in the breakroom before looking back at you like as if he’s been given the most amazing idea. His hand moving to the back of your neck and forcing you to move.

Jerking around and fighting uselessly as he bends you over the table stomach down. Hiking your ass up to present even as you try an squirm away. Almost successful in your attempt until a hard smack resounds in the room. Eyes bulging wide as he pulls his hand back and does it again. “Ah!” Screaming out as he smacks your ass with purpose. His hand on the base of your neck keeping you face down as you squeal and pant.

A meek, defiant growl from you as he responds with another harsh smack. “Behave, Mustang. Be glad I’m not making you count them.” Tears pricking your eyes as they shut tight, having mentally lost count of it ten slaps ago.

Tears falling down your face wetting the table as you half expect another smack and yet he cups your burning ass, your pants have done nothing to shelter your cheeks as you felt every sting of the assault. “There we go.” Gasping quietly when his large fingers grasp and fondle to soothe the ache, “Already bein sweet for me.” Taking a lungful of your enticingly sweet smell, “Can smell your slick,” he states downright devilishly as you tense. Your ass stiffening while your thighs shift tightly together, your body betraying you as you hate how right he is.

Tutting disapprovingly and reaching his hand around and dipping inside your pants right when you start to protest weakly. Sliding a gloved finger harshly against your soaked panties. “Soakin my glove.�� Cupping your soaked cunt as it seeps into his glove. “Naughty, naughty Omega.” Purring against your ear making you wail louder. You’d try to escape if he wasn’t pressing his whole weight down on you. Kicking your feet apart with his boot and thrusting forward, canting his strong hips against the flush of your clothed ass. Something impossibly hard pressing and rubbing against your bottom that makes your eyes roll back as his fingers graze harder on your panties in time with his thrust.

“S-Shit.. ah s-stop! Please,” you beg as it’s too much, you haven’t been sexual with anyone in a while. Especially with your hormones out of whack, his scent smells stronger, dominating and thickening in the room. Invading your nostrils, intoxicating and encouraging more wetness out of your disloyal cunt. The sensitive walls clench when he presses a finger inside, your hole clenching around the cotton, the fabric of your panties rubs against your throbbing clit. You can’t stop the moans that fall from your lips even if you wanted to.

A coil starting to curl within you. “No, no, no, ah!” Your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues humping more aggressively. Grinding and circling his hips against yours, the table creaking under you as his strong body keeps you under him. Trapped and forced to just take it as the pleasure he’s giving you is mixing up the signals in your brain.

You don’t even realize his hand on your neck has left in favor of shucking his mask up, latching his hot mouth against the glands on your neck. Teeth grazing on the sensitive gland as the heat of his mouth sends shocks through your body. “This what you needed, pretty girl?” Whining in response when he removes his hand from inside your pants. His glove soaked with your juices. “S’why you’ve been such a brat. Had to keep pushin and pushin me till I had to do somethin about your problem.”

“N-no I-“ breath hitching as he bites on your throat, sucking harshly as you can’t find the words to speak coherently. Small mercy that he didn’t bite down too hard on the mating gland, merely sucking bruises on it. A grin etching into the skin of your sensitive throat. His tongue lapping and circling as he feels you shake and mewl under him. Having a harder time to not give into your baser needs. Body betraying you as you buck back in time with his canting hips as your hands move and fist near your face.

Finally letting up as he leans back, you breathe so hard as you look behind you through half-lidded eyes. Sweat beading around your forehead causing your hair to stick to your skin. His hands working fast to unbuckle his belt and pants. Pulling them down past his thighs and his boxers following suit. Eyes widening as you see his large thick cock already leaking pre. The flare of his knot making him seem much thicker. Cock slapping against his stomach and you know that a knot like his won’t fit. Blood pumping faster as you fear you can’t take that size in you.

Watchful molten eyes noticing how you try to shift away from him. A thick hand landing forcibly on your back to keep you still as he works on undoing your pants. Pulling them down as you stutter and beg for him not to. “No, no, no, darling. Gotta give you my knot.” Panties falling down, the ever increasing shame burns on your face as your slick slides down. “See? You want it. Need it from the looks of it.” Arms shaking and you try to hit behind you as he just laughs cruelly. Grabbing both of the flailing arms and pinning them against your back with one hand.

Your thighs instinctively try to close but he’s having none of it. Forcing your legs apart with another kick of his boot. A firm grip on your hip before sliding it under a bit to make you lift your reddened ass up. Slotting the meat of his cock through your glistening, fluttering folds. Sliding in between over and over, slowly teasing your engorged clit with the head of his thick tip.

“So fuckin wet for me. Haven’t even fucked you yet and you're pouring on my cock.” Moaning embarrassing louder as he inches the tip into your tightening hole.

A forceful push, heading deeper inside as you plead for him to pull out, to stop what he’s doing but he doesn’t hear you. Too lost in the feeling of your warm, tight cunt squeezing so nicely around him. Even with the gush of your wetness easing a bit of the stretch, it still burns. Ghost is by far the thickest you’ve ever taken. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried all the way to the hilt. “Fuck!” He murmurs lowly while his eyes shut just as yours do from the feeling of being so full.

Pussy gripping him hard, “Relax for me.” Grunting hard as he circles his hips. The hand under your hip lifts you a bit more as your mouth parts to suck in air. “You can take it. That’s a good girl.”

Hardly giving you the time to adjust as he pulls back, his tip not escaping your heat before slamming back in. Whimpering due to the electrifying shot of pain and pleasure, “P-Please, it.. it ah hurts!” Ghost murmurs something rough as tears begin to prick your eyes. His hand moves from your hip and instead of stopping his thrusts, he circles a finger around your wanting clit. Your eyes opening wide as more slick starts coming out more. Easing his large cock in you as your body starts to take him better.

“That’s it, that’s a good little slut,” slamming his hips fast as his fingers work a slow torturous pace on your bundle of nerves. “Doin so good for me Omega. Clench ‘round me baby.” Heavy balls slapping with each harsh thrust. His mouth latching against your glands, muddling your brain further as your Omega nature preens in response of being taken by this strong alpha. “Knew you’d be perfect for me. Just had to stop the pills from coming in.” His damning words not heard as he keeps up his brutal pleasuring pace. The smell of the heady sex permeate the breakroom, filthy sounds of wet slaps of thigh against thigh only enthralls your Omega nature more.

Becoming pliant as you moan and keen high in pleasure, mouth hanging open as the tip of his cock bullies into your tight cunt, making a home inside your gummy walls. His grunts and dirty words sinning against your ear as he growls about how you’re his now. That you’ll never escape him. A possessiveness scent seeping into the room as you babble useless words. His fingers, nearly forgotten due to the mind-numbing pace of his burrowing cock, start to move faster and press harder against your clit. Sliding his finger side to side just as fast as the hard smack of his balls intensifies the pleasure tenfold. “Cum for me, Omega. Wanna— agh,” grunting deeply behind you, “Wanna feel it.”

Your traitorous body gives in when he angles his hips and slams against that spot that makes you scream. Stars blurring your vision as you cum, squeezing and milking his cock as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. The tightening walls suck him back into your greedy pussy. “Gonna breed you good.” A heavy-laden promise as his eyes darkens with dangerous lust. His upper body hunching over as he presses his forehead against the side of yours as you plead for more. His hand moving from your pinned arms, placing his elbow beside your head to give himself more leverage as pistons his hips faster.

Hammering into your pussy as the wood of the table screams from the exertion and scraps against the floor. Your words bouncing against the walls, “Pl-Please, please, please!” Begging for it now. Begging for more, for his cum and his knot. Too lost in the pleasure to really understand what you’re saying. “Alpha, Alpha please!” Crying out as it’s too much and yet not enough. Overwhelming animal instinct to be bred by your strong Alpha. Arching your hips in time to feel him growl loudly, the vibrations tingling up and down your spine.

“I’m going to, Omega, I’m going to.” pulling back suddenly before slamming back into you full force with his damning vow. “I’m gonna breed you till you can’t take it.”

Pulling back out and forcibly turning you around, back now on the hard surface of the table. He looks downright predatory as he licks his lips. Yanking the rest of your pants and panties off, ripping them off even with you wearing your boots in wanton abandon, discarding them out of sight and out of mind.

His hands grabbing your ankles and placing them over his shoulders. Your boots scraping the skin of his flesh be he could give less of a fuck right now. Maneuvering your knees against your chest to fuck you deeper, feeling deliciously constricted since his body is blocking out everything from your sight. Everything but him.

“Gonna give you my knot. Make you mine in every way.” The newer position makes him feel even larger inside you. Pounding into you as your moans sound heavenly to his ears. Pressing more of his weight into you, caging you in as if his only thought is to fuck into your fertile womb. An animalistic need in his eyes as he gives into his own nature to claim the Omega under him. “You want it? Want my knot? Beg for it.”

“Want it! Want it s-so bad! Please, Alpha!” Wasting no time as you work hard to form the words. Jumbling and spilling over it but you don’t stop in your mindless pleading. Your pleading flipping a switch in him as he no longer cares about the consequences. He’ll deal with them later because right now all he wants to do is fill your pretty pussy till it overflows.

Surging forward, his teeth bites down harshly against your mating gland. Mine. Mine. Mine! Eyes rolling back to your skull as you cum faster and harder. The build up of the dam inside the both of you breaking as the swell of his knot starts to catch. Teeth digging into your neck as he intends to make the binding claim as deep as he can. Tears springing out your eyes as your legs shake in the tidal wave of pain and pleasure.

“Mine.” Growling aggressively in affirmation as he moves away from your throat and kisses you roughly, “Mine.” Mouthing the word against your swelling lips that can’t keep up with him. His hips stuttering as his muscles clench, the need for him to cum approaching faster. Balls tightening up as he forces home his thick knot inside your sensitive walls. “Mine!” His forehead falls against yours as he roars out that soul-claiming word. Hot spurts of cum filling your greedy and welcoming womb. His knot expanding wide and locking you to him for now.

“G-Gho— mph!“ his lips dominating against yours, shutting you up as he grinds his knot while his balls empties the rest of his thick seed in you. Moans being swallowed by the other in response. Tongues wrestlings as he takes hold of your boot and eases it off his shoulder. The other following suit as he wraps them loosely around his waist. Your mewls being swallowed by the hungry kiss that he gives you, possessive and devouring as he doesn’t let up. Moving his mouth down, trailing kisses and nips gently against your chin and then to your throat where the mating mark is on your neck. His permanent mark on you.

Chest against chest as you both pant heavily. The clothes worn sticking almost uncomfortably due to the sweatiness of each other. His warm tongue lapping lovingly against the mark he made before he finally leans back. His knot still keeping the both of you connected as it won’t deflate for a bit longer. The smell of the intense coupling is sure to deter anyone from even getting within 30 feet of the breakroom. Not that he’d ever let anyone see you like this. Not his pretty little mate. No, no, no, this sight is for him and him only.

Drinking in the vision of you, mellowed out and soft on the hard table. Hair spread around you like a halo, tired eyes shutting to a close, mouth open and panting. The bulge in your stomach scratches at the delicious size difference between the two of you. His cock twitches from inside you as he wonders how you’ll take him if he took your plump ass. Though an animalistic instinct demands that he not waste his seed, preferring to keep his Omega filled with his warm seed. Snug and protected safely in your precious womb.

“Ghost,” your words softer than he’s ever heard it, eyes opening as you shiver from the shift in his touching, his scent smells more welcoming. More warmth, like firewood on a cold night and the bourbon that he likes. The rare gentleness throwing you off a bit as he rocks his hips forward. A low hiss from your mouth as you’re far too sensitive and yet a slow build of pleasure starts to grow as your overstimulated pussy clenches in response. Your head turning up with a needy whine.

His lips pull back into a wolfish smile. Needy Omega he muses to himself. His Omega. “Simon.” Stating his name and he places a large warm hand over the bulge of your stomach. A primal instinct lighting up at the thought of the seed catching on the first try. Imagining you round with his pups is a black hole that he’ll gladly fall into. He didn’t mean to bite you, didn’t mean to claim you but what’s done is done.

He just wanted to fuck and get rid of his obsession over you but if he did this all over again he wouldn’t stop himself. He’d gladly bite you over and over again.

“Call me Simon.” Your breath hitching as he says his name firmly, commanding you to him by a name he rarely gives out. “Want you to say my name from now on.” His knot starting to deflate. “After all,” He may not have meant to bite you but that doesn’t mean he won’t uphold it. You’re his now. He won’t let go of you no matter how much you’ll kick and scream once your senses finally come to and the high of pleasure fades. Slowly pulling out as his potent cum spills out. Your head scrunches up, sighing pathetically from the loss of his cock.

“You’re mine now.”

His hand sliding between your shaking legs that still wrap loosely around his waist. Scooping up the cum that tries to escape, to go where it shouldn’t. A rumble in his chest, his second nature demanding to keep his Omega filled and sated. His fingers push it back in eliciting a sharp gasp. He can’t help but grin at how sensitive you are.

He leans close and as he uses his fingers as a plug. “Now be a good little mate and keep’em safe. Gotta make do on my promise to breed you after all.” His cock already starting to harden, his stamina has always been the best and he’s never broken a promise.

Ever.

[jenosbigtoe]

the way you write alpha jeno has me so feral omfg . . . could you maybe write alpha!jisung ?? i just luv him

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: childhood best friend!alpha!park jisung x omega!reader

warnings: slight angst, idiots in love, jealous ji, fingering, unprotected sex

you were tired of playing games with him. jisung has been your best friend since 5 years old. he knows you better than you even know yourself. so he should’ve gotten your hints by now.

you’ve been in love with jisung for so so long now. when you presented as an omega and he presented as an alpha shortly after, you could barely hide your excitement. in your eyes, this meant you were a match made in heaven. you were destined to be his omega just as he was destined to be your alpha.

from then on, you started being so affectionate with him, always attaching yourself to his side and following him wherever he went. rubbing your scent against him and claiming him as yours. you practically lived at his apartment, sleeping in his bed every night and wearing his clothes to bask yourself in his delicious scent.

but he always just treated you like he always had, his childhood best friend. it drove you crazy. you wanted him to court you, to claim you, to make you his mate, his omega officially. you wanted to show off the mark he would give you, flaunting to everyone that this alpha was yours.

and eventually you just got fed up. for two years, you were tired of everything being so one sided. it was obvious to you that at this point your feelings would never be reciprocated, that you would always be just a best friend in his eyes. no matter how much love and affection you gave him, he would never make you his omega.

so you started avoiding him. not picking up his calls, barely ever hanging out, never going to his apartment anymore. this strange 180 in behavior had poor jisung so confused. what did he even do wrong? you used to be so affectionate with him and now you won’t even look at him. how could he make it up to you when he didn’t even know what he did? he hated seeing you so upset with him and he had no idea why. he missed you and your presence so much he was going crazy without you.

so imagine his surprise when he goes to your apartment with a bouquet of flowers and a bundle your favorite chocolates to make it up to you but he sees you in the arms of another alpha. getting all cozy and sitting your ass right on his lap.

“what the fuck.” he fumed at the sight of you wrapped up in this nameless alpha’s arms on the couch you once cuddled with him countless times.

“hey what are you doing here? get out, jisung!” you screamed, throwing a pillow at his face.

the other alpha looked embarrassed and confused, like he didn’t want to be caught up in the mess about to unfold. “uh, y/n, i don’t want to be between all of this… let’s just meet up another time.” he slowly got up and ran out the door, leaving you and jisung in a dangerous staring contest.

“great, look what you did, jisung,” you grumbled. “ruining everything, as always.”

his eyes lit up with a terrifying fire. “what the fuck? what i did? so you’re telling me i’m supposed to let my omega be upset with me and ignore me for weeks? and i don’t even know what i did wrong. but when i come back to apologize for whatever i did and find my omega wrapped up in another alpha’s arms, i’m just supposed to take it?” his voice got dangerously low as he slowly walked over to you.

you finally looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and a look of sheer anger. “your omega? who said i was your omega, you stupid fucking alpha.”

he growled, something in him snapping as he lunged toward you and pinned you down on the couch underneath him. “oh so you wanna act stupid now, huh? act like you’re not my omega, like you’re not my mate. act like you haven’t been mine since we presented, and you became my omega and i became your alpha.”

you squirmed against his weight but his strength kept you from moving. his face held a dangerous expression. you could feel his breath tickle your cheeks from how close his head was to yours.

“w-what are you talking about?” you whimpered. “i’m not your omega. you never courted me, never marked me, never made us official. as far as i knew, i was just your best friend since childhood.”

“what happened to that brat i was just talking to a second ago? you wanna act so innocent now, when you just got caught with another alpha,” jisung spoke through gritted teeth. he reached one hand up to grip your chin and force you to look him in the eyes. “look at me. submit, omega.”

tears pricked your eyes. “m sorry, ji. but i don’t know what you’re talking about. i thought you knew i was in love with you but didn’t want to be anything more than friends.”

his gaze softened at your tears, but you could still see the fire raging in his eyes. “what are you talking about, baby?”

“i’ve been in love with you since forever, ji. but i thought you didn’t want to be anything more than friends. i thought i made my feelings so obvious. but you never made us official or said anything about me being your mate or even your girlfriend after all this time. so i got tired of waiting for you to love me back.” at this point, fat tears rolled down your cheeks in droves.

jisung let go of your chin to wipe your tears away and got up from on top of you to sit you on his lap. “oh baby… i didn’t know you suffered all this time because of me.” he sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist to rest his head on the crook of your neck. “i’ve seriously been in love with you this whole time too. i thought you knew you were mine all this time. i thought it was pretty obvious from the way i treat you how special you are to me. i mean, i don’t just let any omega sleep in my bed every night and wear my clothes. just because i never gave you my mark, doesn’t mean you haven’t been my omega all this time. and who’s to say i wasn’t courting you for the past two years? you’re special to me, omega, and not just because you’re my best friend. you’re special to me because i love you and i want to be the only alpha you see.”

you let out soft sobs, feeling so stupid for acting like this with him. “oh my god, ji… i am so sorry…”

he lifted up his head from your neck and gave you a deep kiss, passion flowing from his lips onto yours. you ran your fingers through his hair, letting out sighs of pleasure. he sucked on your bottom lip, as if to ask for permission, before sticking his tongue into your mouth.

but then he broke away, leaving you pouting and chasing his lips for more. “baby, let me make it up to you. let me make it up to my omega.”

he gave you a small peck on the lips before lifting you up off the couch and carrying you bridal style back to your bedroom. he carefully laid you down on your bed before climbing back on top of you, caging you in with his body. you giggled softly before pulling him back for another passionate kiss. you began to take your clothes off, never once breaking contact.

“so needy for you, alpha. please touch me,” you whimpered, rubbing your legs together and grinding up lightly against his body.

jisung groaned. “fuck, so beautiful, omega. you know you’re mine now, right?”

he reached one hand down to tease your little pussy. he rubbed two fingers up and down your slit, collecting your juices and using them to pump his fingers in and out of your hole. you clenched and gushed around his slender fingers, bucking your hips against his hand.

“f-fuck! ji, stop teasing,” you whined.

he smirked and added another finger. he pumped his fingers in and out, rubbing against your sweet spot and making you moan out in pleasure.

“ahhhh…. alpha…”

you were dripping, pussy wet and glistening from arousal. you looked up into his eyes to see his pupils dark and blown. you grabbed his wrist to keep him from continuing his playing with your pussy. “fuck me now, alpha. waited too long for this,” you said seriously.

jisung pressed a hot kiss against your mouth and threw your legs over his shoulders as he suddenly shoved his fat cock deep into your little cunt. you screamed out in pleasure. he filled you up so good, so perfectly. he felt so big for your tight cunt but no one could ever compare to how he made you feel. every ridge on his cock rubbed against your pussy so deliciously. he was made for you.

“ah fuck, omega,” he groaned as his hips drove deep into yours. “mine. my girl, my omega, my mate.”

tears filled your eyes. this was everything you had ever wanted. “alpha…”

as he pounded his cock relentlessly into your dripping cunt, he leaned his head down to rest on your neck. his teeth lightly grazed at your scent gland before roughly biting, breaking the skin just enough to draw blood.

now you were officially his omega and he was officially your alpha. no more doubting ever again.

a/n: i actually have a serious problem of making these soooo long and it takes forever to answer these requests. but i really love alpha ji so much i can’t help it 😖

[clitorphosis]

AMATO AMAR PERDONA

notes: the title is taken from The Divine Comedy, Canto 5(second circle) of Inferno. Initially this was an idea I wanted to include in my other fanfiction, so I guess this can be considered as a bonus.

Priest Leon S. Kennedy x female reader | 18+ MDNI. smut, female reader, light religious themes, Leon is a priest, blowjob, blasphemy kink, improper use of confessional booth, snowball kiss, semi public sex.

tags: @sprawberry

After years of fighting B.O.W, he finally sets on something calm, helping and saving people without risking his own life, but as time passes by, a bitter realization hits Leon harder than he expected; that not everyone was born for this. Maybe it is adrenaline addiction or without noticing he had found comfort in his misery at that time, but he is grateful that the routine incorporated easily into one’s life as deeds accumulate, overshadowing any thoughts about changing his life again and he didn’t have any other way other than focusing on the work.

The church is old and is not located in the best place, which tends to have windy weather. He suspected those are reasons why the building doesn’t have a lot of visitors, not like people are deeply religious nowadays either. Sometimes it feels like walls are thinner than paper, the wind brushes and whispers sweet, quiet nothings, barely audible to human ears while Leon prepares for his tasks or just lollygags during his free time. It has been said that airy currents can bring many unwanted things; pebbles, the leaves during the autumn season and the smells that disclose people’s secrets. He could never have expected it to bring a woman into his life, making it more colorful than any light arrays coming from the glass-stained windows in his church. From a small spark, a Great flame has risen.

The only thing he needed to do was to help you with your husband’s funeral, but he fucked this up. Really fucked up all this, his mind was repeating multiple times that it was his job to console you, he should have put down your little advances, but he couldn’t, deep down the urge to delve into something prohibited was stronger. The conflict between his morality and passion had died down in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Your appearance was like a quick bullet going through his routine and destroying it, adding the thrill that consumed the guilt he was supposed to feel. Little touches of your fingers, while no one is looking, quickly have moved to more intimate encounters, indulging in each other’s body on the altar, under the eyes of Jesus.

Some days, even the confessional booth was filled with your voice, telling him your desires and how much you want him to fuck your brains out of your head, to make you a dumb slut in front of the son of God and there has never been a trace of shame in your words. A long time ago he deduced a devil would sound like you; with a sweet-sweet intonation describing, in the holy place and not trying to hide all details, how his cock would fill nicely your pussy. Leon’s mind didn’t help much in those cases either. It has always vividly recalled how good your moans echo against the walls of the church. Either there is no need to imagine anything he hasn’t already done in this building, every cranny has heard and the All-seeing eye has witnessed you indulging in the temptation of each other’s body. The gentle love transforms into a deadly sin, but it is better to suffer in hell together, than alone.

His cock was already hard, tucked out, stroking it with his hand while his blue eyes are set on your knelt state. He tugs your hair, pulling you closer to his aching length, pushing it against your lips. They almost envelop its head, the soft and plush skin of them on it, he keeps tracing and brushing his tip, smearing a little bit of his already leaking precum but not letting you go any further. Almost all day passed without even a light touch which is too much for him, a man like him can have a quick good time, and teasing himself was a bad decision.

“Daddy Kennedy, that’s not polite to make a lady wait” Your tongue peeks out to lick away the bitter substance on your lips, teeth bite down slightly on the lower skin after tongue retreated. His grip on your hair tightened, cracking out a smile and pushing your head closer now.

“It is ‘Father Kennedy’” his correction leaves his mouth quickly, leading to a light slap on your lips with his cock as a silent command to open your mouth. “and I still didn’t hear any holy words from this mouth”

You loll out the tongue, feeling him dragging his leaking head against the exposed wet surface, smearing and filling your tastebuds with the bitterness of his precum, which makes more saliva pool in your mouth. The man in front of you not only teases himself but you too.

“What do we say?” He inquires breathlessly, his blue orbs almost shining from intensity and heat in the dimly lightened booth. He slaps his cock on your tongue inducing a soft wet sound to escape when it connects with the flesh.

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and corrupted your man.” Your eyes keep the contact with Leon’s as the prayer leaves your mouth quickly, something you have already repeated a billion times and he is already familiar with those words, not his first time to hear from one’s lips and it wouldn’t be the last time. This is so boring in the end, repenting feverly about something you can’t help but spit on. So why not alter it? Punishment is much more tempting than forgiveness. Your lips ghost on his aching cock, movements of your tongue brush more against the tip, flicking ‘accidentally’ at it and leaving him to covet for more. “Alas, I don’t detest all my sins cause the pain of hell is more alluring than the pleasures of heaven”

“Do I need to teach you everything?” Leon’s voice breaks the silence with a rough tone after you alter the prayer. You wish he would strike you, but he doesn’t. His attention shifts, watching a string of saliva dripping along his flesh from the tip of your tongue. Your eyes are on his face, meeting his gaze and not wavering. “Don’t you have any shame in that body of yours? Carrying on your whoring so openly in front of me” There is a silence, but even with the lack of his order you can grasp what he wants right now; the grip on your hair lessens, letting you be more free in your actions. “But be not afraid, my dove, this don’t disgust me, I am here to absolve you from your sins”

You don’t need to be ordered around to know what he implies. His body shudders when your lips embrace his cock in the wet and warm sensations around him, your hand slides down with your mouth along the length until you reach the base. Leon doesn’t notice how his own palm returns its grip on your hair, his hips buck up pushing you deeper to get more from your mouth already. A greedy bastard you would call him. Deep inside guilt tries to crawl out, but your mouth around him let this bullshit disappear and focus on how your tongue flicks against the head, playing with the sensitive spot under the tip, while your hand keeps pumping along the flesh, spreading the dripping saliva with every stroke. The acolyte corrupted by a widow, he should be drowning in guilt and beg for forgiveness of the Lord, but the sight of you in between his legs reminds him that God can’t give a blowjob in the confessional booth, maybe is that what’s tempting.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned, my last confession was a year ago” Leon’s ears catch another woman’s voice, pulling him out of overflowing pleasure. This can’t be you, your mouth is busy with his cock and for a brief moment, he felt his blood hitch in his veins, at this hour usually there are no visitors, but seems this isn’t your lucky day. Your head halts its movements, keeping his cock in your warm and wet mouth, looking at him with a clear surprise. An idea sparkles in your mind, and you try to move more, to push his buttons and see him struggle cause of your doings, but his hand prevents this by giving a quick tap on the back of your head; ‘Don’t move’. A quiet sob before a trembling voice speaks up again. “I accuse myself of adultery, I have been eyeing and lusting for the man who isn’t my husband, God, I-…I am so sorry”

O the irony of the situation having someone confess the sin of lust while you are kneeling in between his legs. His hand grips harder your hair to tilt your head better so the tip rubs against the soft and velvet of your cheek, stretching it and he can feel your drool roll down, staining his pants. Leon takes a brief peek at the shadowed figure in the grilled window, trying to recollect himself. Shaky breath leaves his lips, listening to a woman’s words fill the space, his blue eyes dart down to your messy frame; trying to swallow your saliva. Leon can’t keep still himself, his hips start rolling into your mouth, enjoying the wetness of your tongue brushing along his sliding length. The pleasure makes it too hard to stay still, making him greedier for more. Your tongue flicks on his tip every time his cock moves back and forth slowly, leading his head rests against the wooden wall behind him, his half-lidded gaze keeps eye contact with you.

“Have you given into the temptation?” Leon asks. His voice feels so sensual to your ears, but they aren’t addressed to you. The poor woman whispers something, but you don’t catch her words cause your attention is mostly on the dick in your mouth.

His cock slides further, the tip rubs against the back of the throat provoking it to squeeze and tighten around him nicely and you try not to gag, not to sink too deep but your efforts are useless. His grip holds you well as he pushes you lower, highlighting his control over you right now. Drool drips more, its excess gathering at the corners of your mouth. There can be heard some noises coming from you, sending pleasant vibrations over every nerve of his body, but those wet sounds get muffled by his own heavy voice and shaky voice, trying to control it and not to get caught. This wouldn’t do anything good for his reputation.

“I can hear you rue your sin… my child, so…” he swallows hard, pausing to admire your messy state; eyes are watered, some tears roll down and your cheeks are stained with mascara, your face starts to get redder and the lack of oxygen makes you feel lightheaded, holding your breath to not mess with your gag reflex. “God is… All-forgiving..” Another heavy sigh leaves his mouth, trying to control his voice and not to groan as you swallow the excess saliva, provoking another jolt of pleasure running through his body. The warmth and how you struggle made him almost choke on the moan and forget what he was saying. If not for that lady, he would be already face fucking you without any obstacles. He swallows hard again, his tone is lower now, but there is an audible shakiness. “Repent your sins and pray to be shielded” A pause, staring at you with a darkened and burned gaze. “By the temptation of the devil… my child“

He knows well who is the devil here. His voice almost breaks in a high-pitched tone at the end of the sentence, when he rolled his hips into you, again to grind his tip into the back of your throat, his leaking tip from precum fills your taste buds again and you swallow some of the salivas, making tight walls clench around him, almost begging to cum. Personally, Leon doesn’t have the patience to keep that visitor any longer here, it gets much harder to keep his voice steady and right now his own pleasure is much more important than one’s problem. And he is nothing but a man. Hearing a mumble of prayer on the other side of the booth. His grip lessens on your hair, giving you control of your movements. You pull back, letting air to reach your lungs finally. Your lips create a strand of saliva between his dick and your glistening and swollen lips, inhaling greedily for air, while his mouth is covered by palm, trying to not groan which threatens to crawl out from his lips cause of the messy sight in front of him. His struggle is like an addiction, you can’t stay away from him right now, your lips return to pepper his cock with kisses, making him twitch in the hot air of narrow space and you sink down with your mouth, sucking on the tip while hand returns to pump his length, watching him struggling not to moan. Too bad he got lucky, the other voice ceased to exist, leaving him with you.

“That’s how you pray, sweet dove” Leon teases, the corners of his lip tugging up into a smirk. You hum, sending another wave of pleasure. Another flick and he feels his balls tighten, his cock throbbing in your mouth and his fingers return to your hair, taking control of your movements back into his hands. “Such a good little thing, fuck…” Leon mumbles, feeling beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He chases the rising pleasure in his body, his hips bucking to meet your face. Deepening thrusts, his head grinds against your throat. Another low moan escapes his lips. “Sucking so well, God made you for this, right?”

All he can see is your messy face, sloppily taking him so well, Leon is so focused on you and your mouth, his orgasm approaches quicker than he expected. His body shudders and with the last thrust his cock throbs for the last time and spurts out a load of cum, filling your mouth. His legs feel numb, and with a heavy gaze he is watching your mouth fill with his fluid so well. Leon’s mind is still under the influence of his orgasm and the post-nut clarity doesn’t hit him, so he doesn’t register how you get up so quickly, your hand lays on his stubbled cheek to pull him into a kiss. Mouth opened kiss. Your tongue doesn’t shy to intrude into his mouth, sloppily kissing him and passing the warm, slightly sticky, and salty substance into his mouth. His own cum. His taste. It fills his mouth and a moan crawls out against your lips. He pulled you tightly against his body, kissing you back harder, tongue probing and sliding against each other, playing and mixing his cum with your salivas. His Adam’s apple bobs and he swallowed it, the devil cocktail, feeling hot underneath his collar. Leon pulls back from a kiss, a string of fluids connects your lips, and if there was more time, he would fuck you on some of the wooden pews or better, on the altar. Alas, all he can do right now is to reach for your mouth to trace along the swollen and wet flesh of your lower lip. Not like his are better right now, he can still taste himself on the tip of his tongue.

“The god has freed you from your sins” he whispers, still panting heavily and his gaze is intently observing you with a deep, burning desire.

“Amen, Father” you respond.

[incorrectbatfam]

Could you please do some headcanons about Batmans cooking disasters over the years?

Age 5: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

Age 6: He decorates a cookie so badly another kid cries until they throw up

Age 7: He tries to make a PB&J and the countertop is sticky for a week

Age 8: He tries to make Martha's chicken noodle soup but ends up crying on the kitchen floor surrounded by half-chopped vegetables

Age 9: He tries to impress a houseguest by recreating Thomas's mixology tricks (sans alcohol). There's still a stain on the ceiling to this day

Age 10: He makes green eggs. It's not on purpose. He's never even read the book

Age 11: He makes lava in the school cafeteria

Age 12: He tries to make cheese bread by drilling holes into a baguette and filling it with melted nacho cheese

Age 13: He melts a cutting board in the oven

Age 14: He folds a Pop Tart

Age 15: The chocolate-covered bananas he makes for the school bake sale come out looking very very wrong

Age 16: He's asked to drop a home economics class after mistaking refried beans for pumpkin puree in a pie

Age 17: He boils eggs in the carton

Age 18: He makes his entire freshman dorm evacuate after burning his ramen to ash

Age 19: He sculpts a severed hand out of meatloaf and is sent to the university psychologist

Age 20: He tries to bake a cake but doesn't have a cake pan, so he pours the batter right in the oven

Age 21: He tries Thomas's mixology tricks again, this time with alcohol. One of the tricks is flipping it over his head. He ends up losing part of his vision for 3 days

Age 22: He burns water. Harley Quinn is there. She still holds it over his head

Age 23: He packs his first patrol snack as Batman. It's a chocolate bar wrapped in a tortilla. The chocolate melts onto his gloves and he drops the tortilla down a sewer grate

Age 24: He makes an ice cream cookie sandwich to eat while he and Batgirl work on a case, but he's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't notice it melt until Babs points it out

Age 25: He enters the first annual Justice League cook-off and immediately gets banned from ever entering again

Age 26: He tries to comfort little Dickie Grayson by making fried cornbread from a book of Roma comfort recipes. It turns out about as well as you'd expect when you give Bruce Wayne hot oil. Bruce is genuinely bummed out, but Dick says it's the thought that counts

Age 27: Clark delivers a huge hunk of beef from the farm. Instead of waiting for Alfred to come back, Bruce and Dick try to break it down with a power saw

Age 28: Bruce and Dick's latkes are burned so badly they can play floor hockey with them

Age 29: He makes stuffed mushrooms. Badly. Like imagine the worst way you can fuck up a mushroom. It still won't compare to what Bruce did. And it's for a potluck with the West-Allens that Barry won't let him live down

Age 30: Bruce sees Dick struggling to make ravioli and he's like "Let me show you how it's done" before proceeding to make it infinitely worse

Age 31: Bruce sees a hungry Jason Todd and the first thing he does when they return to the manor is make a double-decker bread sandwich. That's bread with two more slices of bread in between

Age 32: Bruce packs Dick and Jason's lunchboxes when Alfred is out of town. They're supposed to include a salad. Instead, Dick gets a whole head of lettuce and Jason's is just a bottle of ranch

Age 33: He makes hot chocolate after patrol... but forgets the chocolate

Age 34: The Manor is too cold, so Bruce tries to warm it up by making Jason's favorite soup. His hands shake the whole time. Suddenly, he's eight years old again, sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by scraps reminding him of his failure

Age 35: Jack and Janet Drake are out of the country again, leaving young Timmy by himself. Bruce decides to bring some dinner over. It's baked perfectly, but it's full of things that shouldn't be anywhere near a casserole dish. They end up ordering takeout and watching old detective movies together

Age 36: Steph walks through how to make waffles. Bruce is standing there, watching closely and taking notes. They still come out looking radioactive

Age 37: Cass asks if they can get smoothies. Bruce says he can make them at home. She gives him a warning look but that's not enough to stop him. Cue Bruce forgetting to put the lid on the blender

Age 38: Jason's first night back at home, Bruce tries to make that soup. It shoots out like a geyser and hits the lights. He's panicking until he hears Jason laugh, and then the soup doesn't matter

Age 39: Damian screws up hummus and he desperately tries to hide it so people won't see him as inadequate at something so basic. Instead of getting upset, Bruce assures him it's okay and offers to fix it. (He doesn't fix it, he just makes it worse)

Age 40: Bruce's birthday happens while he's fake-dead and away from home. He grabs a convenience store cupcake and sticks a single candle on it. Then he closes his eyes, pretends his family is around him, and makes a wish. (The candle droops and sets the hotel sheets on fire)

Age 41: Back at the Manor, he attempts to make lemonade on a particularly hot day. Selina offers to help, but Bruce declines, saying, "How hard can it be?" (Spoiler alert: it's not supposed to be full of seeds)

Age 42: Kate shows him a video of Canadians pouring maple syrup into the snow to make candy, so he gets her to boil the syrup so they can do it together. The problem comes when they can't control the pour and end up with a glob the size of Damian

Age 43: As part of a school project, Bruce and Duke try to deduce the Coca-Cola secret formula. Duke's teacher takes a point off because at the beginning he told her he'd taste the results, but there's no way he's doing that now

Age 44: The family gets together to make a full English breakfast Alfred's birthday. Each person takes a part—Dick has eggs, Jason has the grilled tomatoes, Tim has mushrooms, Duke has the bacon, Steph and Cass are tag-teaming the sausages, Damian just has to open a can of beans, and Bruce needs to put bread in the toaster. It goes South immediately when Damian reaches for his katana instead of the can opener

Age 45: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

[shitswiftiessay]

Swifties are PAINFULLY fucking stupid.

I shouldn’t be getting THIS heated over a Disney comparison but the Kristoff slander is absolutely fucking wild. Kristoff (at least in the first movie) is both poor and an introvert. Those are two things that swifties HATE Joe for. He also had to work since he was a child, which is something swifties make fun of Joe for- calling him yogurt boy. And he DEFINITELY would think that award shows are stupid.

Hans is much more like Travis in the fact that he pursued a woman for his own gain. Whereas Kristoff was just trying to live his life and didn’t even WANT to get involved in Anna’s shit, Hans wanted to become king, so he pursued Anna (a naive and desperate young woman- which is what swifties are trying to paint Taylor as) and made himself look like her dream guy- “true love.”

Last summer, Travis publicly and relentlessly pursued Taylor with his story about how he tried to give her a friendship bracelet with his number. And he’s been reaping the benefits of dating Taylor Swift, he’s got new TV gigs, his podcast shot up on the charts, and he might even be getting his own reality show.

He tried to pass himself off as a fan, Even though he’s blatantly obvious that he DOESN’T listen to her music. But his little pretend act of being a fan charmed the shit out of swifties and made them believe he was her Prince Charming. All he has to do is that stupid 🫶 thing and he’s got the swifties swooned, much like Hans had Anna swooned from the minute he met her. But his intentions were completely self-serving.

And another thing I find interesting is the fact that Hans proposed to Anna a few hours after meeting her. IF ANYTHING, that couple is literally a lesson on NOT marrying a guy you just met. And yet, Swifties have been talking about Taylor marrying Travis since that first football game-even BEFORE then.

But Joe, the guy who didn’t want to marry taylor, is just like Hans? The one who was in a long term relationship that ultimately didn’t work out is JUST LIKE HANS??

It beggars belief how swifties could be so stupid, because they either didn’t watch the movie, didn’t fully understand it (because they are less cognitively capable than 5 year olds), or they’re so addicted to painting Joe as this cartoonist Disney villain in their heads that they think it’s perfectly reasonable to compare Joe to a character that was trying to KILL his fiancée and her sister.

I the stupidity of comparing Taylor Swift to Anna- a girl who’s been isolated in a castle for most of her life and has ZERO relationship experience - I think she’s supposed to be like 18 or something? Very young and inexperienced and naive. Taylor was 26 years old when she started dating Joe and she had plenty of relationship experience before then.

Taylor literally wrote MASTERMIND, but swifties still see her as this naive and innocent disney princess who is easily manipulated and taken advantage of by men. So I guess they think it’s a reasonable comparison because they understand disney movies as well as they understand Taylor’s lyrics- which is NOT AT ALL.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 7)

Howdy! Welcome to part 7! I'm happy you're here! Thank you all again for showing this series the love and support you all have. I appreciate you all so much, and I hope you're all finding new favorites to add to your own collections.

Apologies for the delay in getting this part to you. To be honest, it's just been too fucking hot for me lately, so I've been spending less time at my computer and more time splayed out, letting the wind blow upon me. I'm a spicy bitch on an average day, but it's been 100+ degrees here on average for the past week and a half with the heat is showing no signs of going away anytime soon. So there may end up being bigger gaps between updates (like the one you just experienced) than I maintained previously. Fair warning.

Okay, that's all from me today. Let's get into, lovelies!

Smoochies and squeezies!

List and link to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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and the questions of heaven, for a sinner like me by doxa (G | 1/1 | 1,346)

“I'm Loki, son of Laufey,” Stiles chants. “And I'm going to burn down the world.”

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many beacons in the sea by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 1,479)

Stiles has known all his life that he’s not like other kids. He’s special.

“It’s alright, love,” his mom says, leaning over him at night when he can’t sleep because his legs hurt so bad. “Just let it hurt.”

She kisses his forehead. He dreams of the sea. They go to the beach that weekend.

*

Stiles is a siren. He’s an anomaly, until he isn’t.

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Now when we're old by orphan_account (NR | 1/1 | 2,431)

Stiles' skin was soft, the years passing making it worn and thin; his bones brittle and fragile. He was still the man they all knew, but older. Derek's hair was grey and white now, his beard more straggle than stubble. His whole life could be read on his face, almost like a map, outlining his joys and tears.

We all know how their lives together began, but how did it end.

Believe it or not the ending is kinda happy.

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the secrets in our blood by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 5,433)

//He’d never meant for it to go this far.

He really, honest to god hadn't. Like, okay, it's not like he'd expected a long life, but he'd at least hoped he'd have gotten the hell away from Beacon Hills before they found him.//

or, the one where Stiles is a demon and the same hunters who killed his mother (also a demon) find him.

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Wolf Cub by moodwriter (E | 1/1 | 6,946)

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

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The Dark Spark by Reia (E | 1/1 | 7,014)

He knows that Stiles is speaking to his wolf, to that animal inside that thrums with the need to maim and kill and take, take, take and he really shouldn't allow it, he shouldn't.

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but couldn't good be good enough by lazulisong (G | 1/1 | 8,044)

"His dad is probably going to tell Stiles not to hang out with us," says Boyd, taking a sip of his Coke.

Isaac gives Derek an utterly betrayed look, and Erica glares at him. "I told you not to wear those sunglasses!" she hisses.

"What if Stiles can't hang out with us any more?" says Isaac wretchedly. "What if Scott doesn't want to hang out with us because --"

"I said those were pedophile sunglasses!" says Erica, in a quiet, piercing whisper that makes Derek's ears hurt.

Boyd continues eating his gyro, which he has laid out on a plate like a salad on a piece of flatbread, methodically picking out the tomatoes, feta and lamb and laying them to the side to eat after the lettuce. Boyd would eat his gyro if there was a bomb going off.

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The House in the Middle by afullrevolution (2 works | G-T | 8,569)

1. Battle not with monsters (T | 3/3 | 7,590) Stiles laughed. Laughed because he understood what Nietzsche had been writing about. Because hunters were clearly monsters for all they claimed to battle them. Because Stiles had looked into the abyss and the abyss was staring straight back. 2. To Grandmother's House We Go (G | 1/1 | 979) There were always going to be repercussions for everyone involved, and then some.

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Hell to Raise by Mosca (E | 1/1 | 12,543)

Stiles is the last in a long line of pagan priests. Of course, the god in question is a sarcastic trickster who mostly just wants him to get laid. Of course.

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No Oceans Left by zoemathemata (T | 1/1 | 14,207)

Stiles has always been a merman. He just never knew how to tell anyone. He hasn’t shifted since his mom died.

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Hand of the Devil by shiny_starlight (M | 1/1 | 14,669)

For years, Hale and his family had escaped justice, but the day of reckoning had come. His comfortable life was about to come crashing down about his ears and Adrian was going to relish every single second of it.

Mob!AU. Derek is the head of the Hale Family, and Detective Adrian Harris is determined to bring him to justice, whatever means necessary.

Warning: Contains past!non-cannonical character death and non graphic description of injuries. Contains cannon character death.

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Do What I Dare series by FunkyinFishnet (3 works | T-M | 15,532)

Stiles has always known he prefers to wear women's clothing. He learns that the people who matter want him to be happy too.

1. Make No Conditions (M | 1/1 | 8,557) Stiles has always known that he prefers wearing female clothing, but not many people in his life know. He makes friends with drag queens, goes shopping with Lydia and Allison, and tries to work out if and when he can ever tell Derek about his wardrobe. Will Derek want all of him? Of course, it turns out that Lydia is right all along, about everything. 2. Get A Little Outta Line (M | 1/1 | 4,444) Stiles talks down a rival pack's Alpha, tells his Dad about werewolves, is confronted by Chris Argent, and communicates enjoyably without words with Derek. It's pretty awesome altogether. 3. Scent Of A Woman And A Man (T | 1/1 | 2,531) Stiles and his Mom love perfume. Stiles carries that love into his teenage years and once he and Derek become close, he finds he's not the only one obsessed with scents.

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Actual Puppy Derek Hale by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone) (T | 1/1 | 18,162)

Derek didn't know what was worse: the hunters, being trapped as a wolf, being hit by a car, or the fact that he had somehow become some kid's pet dog for the unforeseeable future.

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Der Yingl fun Erd un Blitz (The Boy of Earth and Lightning) by sofonisba_found (T | 3/3 | 18,741)

Miriam and John Stilinski had always wanted to have children. But when her illness prevented her from giving birth, and every conventional alternative option to raise a child was denied to them, they had to look for an...unconventional method. One that would give them a child that was himself far from ordinary in so many ways.

And soon after, in the town of Beacon Hills, a young werewolf named Derek begins to notice the scent of something different from anything he had ever known before in the air...

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Certain and Unsure series by dedougal (2 works | M-E | 20,475)

1. Make It Up As We Go Along (E | 1/1 | 11,388) Stiles was not expecting to find a baby on the kitchen table at Derek's. Not at all. 2. Left to Trust (M | 1/1 | 9,087)

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With The Hush of My Lips, I Wholly Confound The Skeptic by Unknown (M | 6/6 | 27,249)

My contribution to the Teen Wolf Big!Big:

It’s honestly his dad’s worst nightmare.

And it’s not like the doctors never told them that it could be hereditary, what his mother died of. They had. It’s just, after such a tragic thing like her dying had happened, they hadn’t thought anything could ever be worse.

Until they had found that stupid abnormality in Stiles’ stomach.

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The Importance of Turning Around Three Times Before Lying Down by otter (T | 10/10 | 30,493)

It’s like this dog has walked out of all of Stiles’ childhood dreams and into the real world just because Stiles wanted it hard enough. He is the most awesome dog ever, and he and Stiles have a bond. A deep, unbreakable bond because this animal is his soul mate, obviously. Now he just has to convince the dog of that.

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Of Love and Fairness series by JTHM_Michi (4 works | G-T | 38,833)

Life isn't fair and sometimes when people mean well they react without knowing all the facts. Families are a deep cavern of secrets and lies and the Stilinski family isn't different than any other. When the Alpha Pack came to Beacon Hills, they brought death with them and in the fallout, Stiles was kicked out and his father got a new child and a new wife. This is a story about life and family and all the hard things from both. Alls fair in love and war?

1. We Meet Again (T | 1/1 | 16,320) When Stiles was 17, the Sheriff kicked him out because the Alpha Pack was getting to be too dangerous for the newest additions to the Stilinski household. Now, eleven years later, Stiles is about to come face to face with his once kid step-sister and be forced to deal with this fact. Is it possible to forgive and forget? 2. But With A Whimper (G | 1/1 | 6,704) Rebecca Stilinski learns to deal with the reveal that her father simply isn't the person she grew up thinking he was. And how is it possibly fair that Stiles can have this wonderful life and his father still condemns him as some sort of shady character from a crime drama? The sequel to 'We Meet Again'. 3. Magic Musings (G | 1/1 | 6,274) Lydia has made for herself a perfect life. She has a degree from MIT, has won a Fields Metal, has gotten married to Jackson, and has a career where people call her ‘Dr. Martin’ with complete sincerity. She has a large extended family of friends and is a godmother to her best friend’s daughter and has two little boys who call her ‘Auntie’. Her life is perfect – sure, she and Jackson go through rough patches and sometimes her bills stress her out – but overall she has a good life. She never thought her wonderful life would involve Stiles as her quasi brother with Scott as their goofy younger brother (never mind that Lydia is actually the youngest) but life is strange that way. 4. Look The Other Way (G | 5/5 | 9,535) The small snippets from my "Of Love and Fairness" verse, including but not limited to: The original confrontation between Stiles and his father over the Sheriff's abandonment of Stiles in the past; A small glimpse of Derek and Stiles' wedding; and a meeting between Lydia and the Sheriff. And really anything else from this verse that I wrote that didn't make it into any of the bigger pieces. It would be better to read the other parts of this verse before this one.

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Dirty paws and furry coats by queerly_it_is (E | 1/1 | 57,621)

Stiles is eight years old when his dad brings Derek home.

[AU based on Disney's The Fox and the Hound]

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Indelible Marks by billtheradish (M | 87/87 | 275,695)

The house never burned. The pack is strong. Derek will never need to be the alpha, and his sister is a troll. (Actually, most of his family is like that.)

Derek is an apprentice tattoo artist, and Stiles isn't old enough to get ink of his own yet. But that doesn't stop him from being interesting...

(This story is now out of buffer, but I will always announce when the next update will be, and am trying to keep to a regular posting schedule. Also, please be advised that this is essentially a rough draft. That doesn't mean it's riddled with typos, every chapter is edited, just that the overarching plot and side stories haven't had a chance to be edited in full yet--but they will be. An edited version of this story will be posted eventually, so if the current length isn't your cup of tea, just come back later.)

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[nana-ur]

Corruption: Intro.

Pairings: Yandere!Taehyung x Reader || Jimin x Reader

Genre: Yandere, Romance (?), Psychological, Angst, Smut

Disclaimer: I do not condone, nor support or encourage anything I write in this fanfiction. It is purely fiction, means of entertainment, and should be treated as such. I do not think any of the BTS members would act remotely anything like what is represented here, which is why it’s called fiction. Other than that, please enjoy, and read at your own discretion. 

Trigger warnings and Tags; +18, Yandere elements, Possessive and Obsessive behaviors, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy idealization, Drug and Substance Abuse, Mommy/Daddy Issues, Slow Burn, Smut (in future chapters), Artist!Tae, Rich!Tae, Lowkey SugarDaddy!Tae, BDSM, Power Dynamics, Manipulation, Slight age difference, Naive!Reader, Easy to Manipulate!Reader, Virgin!Reader, Virginity Kink, Corruption kink.. (There’s gonna be a LOT of kinks in here for further chapters, so I’ll save the wall of text LOL.) 

Intro  Part. 1   Part. 2   Part. 3   Part. 4  Part. 5  

Boring, he thought.

Everything about this stupid fucking event was excruciatingly boring.

First off, he didn't even want to be here. His mother forced him to come, practically dragging him outside by his own ear. 

"If you still want me to sponsor your pathetic little project, it'd be smart of you to come along with me this evening." Ah yes, the typical threats of estranging him financially in hopes of him spending time with her. Typical Mrs. Kim. 

The outing was a simple event where selected students who had won his fathers Academic Scholarship were rewarded a ‘party’ for their hard work and efforts. The scholarship was offered to college students who managed to make the highest ranking grades throughout their entire university. Impressive, to say the least, which is why each student present was granted $45,000 USD straight towards their college funds.

That sort of funding was simply pocket change for a man like his father.

His father was the CEO of Kim’s Legal Law Firm. It happens to be the third largest law firm in the country. Taehyung’s father has a tender soft spot for college students, especially ones who attend the same school he graduated from. Which is why he did events like this yearly, specifically for them.

But Taehyung? He could give two shits about a "Scholarly Party". He wasn't in school, nor did he want to be tied down by the ropes of education ever again. High School was more than enough, and that was years ago. He barely graduated. Though, after having his parents ``talk" to the principal of his private school, he suddenly went from having a D grade point average, to being at the top of his class in under an hour. He remembers clearly how Kim Namjoon glared daggers in his skull when he walked up the stairs leading to the stage at their highschool graduation, accepting his honors award that rightfully belonged to him instead. Taehyung couldn't really blame him, either. He'd be pissed off too if someone's rich parents paid off a school to make their irresponsible child graduate, whilst stealing his honors award that would've surely benefited him if he tried to enroll in college. 

Taehyung wasn't stupid by all means, no. He was actually pretty fucking smart. It's just he hates doing work, and he hates being told what to do. So instead of attending classes, doing homework, and going to exam days; he skipped classes to smoke weed, do things he wasn't supposed to do, and fuck around. What was stopping him? Surely not his parents. They barely bat an eye when he stayed away from home for days on end when he was only 15 years old. He remembers walking in after being away for 5 days straight to his dad barely sparing him a glance, and his mother wrapping herself up in a scarf so she could go out for the night. She walked right past him, not saying a word. 

Easy to say that his parents had their priorities straightened out already, and Taehyung wasn't one of them. But he doesn't care. 

Or that's what he tries to tell himself when he has emotional outbursts, or when he gets arrested for DUIs, or when he gets questioned for being under the influence, and more outlandish things his parents had authorities shove under a rug. 

His parents had money and generational wealth. Taehyung could do anything, say anything, and be whatever he wanted. So who cares if his parents were a little emotionally unavailable? He didn't care. Nope. Not at all. Not one bit.

But sometimes, just, sometimes, he finds himself yearning for motherly love. He finds himself wishing he had a father to look up to, instead of the stone cold businessman his own father was.

He desperately wanted to be loved by someone.

And he hated that feeling. It made him feel weak.

The feeling that gnawed at the emptiness inside of his own chest. The empty void that hurts and caves into himself whenever he sees someone receive the unconditional love he could only wish for. 

Oh, how he wanted someone to love.

To hold, to cherish, to smother with affection, to be loyal to and never let go. 

Never let go. 

Taehyung has had his fair share of relationships, of course. He was pretty, tantalizing, rich, and he likes to think of himself as quite the charmer. 

Those relationships weren’t too serious or noteworthy, honestly. Most of the women he dated were trophy girlfriends his friends set him up with. Most just dated him for status, sex, and money. Surprisingly, he had no problem with this. 

It's just how the world works, isn't it?

No matter how pretty or sweet, though, he's never fallen in love with any of those women.

He's never been in love at all.

He’s felt the intense feelings of infatuation and lust, but none of those feelings lasted for more than 2 weeks. He often finds himself getting bored of the same repetitive types of women that came into his life. 

There were two categories of women that Kim Taehyung seems to attract. 

One being the typical spoiled woman with daddy’s black card. This type didn’t need him at all for financial reasons, they were set for life, and possibly even the afterlife. They always had a certain aura to them, that look in their eyes, that pep in the way they walk. All of which seems to remind him of his own mother. Yeah, he knows it’s weird. It’s weird to date women that remind you of your mother, but Taehyung was the farthest thing from normal. 

What did Sigmund Freud say? Taehyung would think about the little bit of psychology knowledge he gained when he used to half pay attention in class often. Something about how mommy issues can lead down an unhealthy path of romantic relationships if not addressed in therapy, and so on. He thought it was quite interesting how he felt called out at that moment, which is why psychology became one of his favorite subjects while he was still in school. He may have skipped a lot, but when he was there, he tried to pay attention to the lectures.

The second category of women who Taehyung attracts were models. Not the runway, nepo baby models everyone sees on social media. No, not those. 

The models who were oh so pretty, but also had that vacant lost look in their eyes. They were signed to agencies who barely let them on the runway. Not because of their looks, but because of their raging reliance on drugs and substances. The walking stereotype of a ‘The Weeknd’ song is how he would describe these women. 

These women were with him for a completely different reason than the others. 

Taehyung was a bit guilty when it came to having a “hero complex”. He isn’t a saint by any means; he’s done his fair share of substances. He was peer pressured to do a lot of things when he was younger. 

Though, whenever he gets with these women, his goal is to “fix” them by giving them endless attention, affection, and care. He was always there when they went through withdrawals, when they were puking into plastic bags because they failed to eat prior to drowning themselves in narcotics and powder. He would rub their backs, help them take a cold shower, fix them soup, and hold them until they fell asleep. 

Taehyung had a soft spot for these women. Because he understands.

He understood the pain. The desperation to feel nothing. 

To fill that empty void with something. Something. 

These women were crying for help, so why not help them?

It filled him with a sense of importance after helping these women get clean. It was like he was healing his inner child in a sick, twisted way. Though, like most things, those relationships came to an end.

Although it was never really his fault these relationships would end. 

He was too “demanding”, “controlling”, “possessive”, he’s been told by most, if not all, of the women he’s been involved with.

They never truly accepted him for who he was. They were the foolish ones, not him. 

If they just understood him, if they would just understand.

Which is why he’s never fallen in love before. 

That was the ‘love’ life of Kim Taehyung. It was sad and depressing, but it’s something he had to get used to. It was all he was ever exposed to growing up. It was all he knew.

Maybe one day, things would be different. Happen differently.

Perhaps, authentically, unlike his past.

Perhaps he could fall in love.

He dreamed about such things. It would keep him up at night with a beating heart.

He was a disgusting hopeless romantic. 

“Are you paying attention?” Taehyung quickly blinked out of his short-lived daze and cocked his head down towards the voice. It was his mother, looking at him with those judgemental eyes he once used to hide from. Now, it doesn’t scare him anymore. 

But it made him feel significantly small nonetheless. 

God, he hated being here. It was so tacky.

Everyone was instructed to wear white. Though Taehyung, obviously, chose to be a little shit to piss off his mom and wore a black turtleneck, with a black blazer and even blacker slacks. His black hair was styled to where his fringe was covering most of his forehead, and slightly his eyes which were a light gray today, due to his contacts. Black on black.

He nodded his head towards his mother, ushering her to continue on with what she was saying even though he dissociated for most of it. 

Something he learned how to do at a very young age with ease.

“As I was saying,” she snapped, “your father wants you to greet some of the students. It would be beneficial for you to ask questions about college life, possibly even make some new friends tonight," Taehyung groaned internally, rolling his eyes in a way that his mother wouldn’t catch on. Here comes the “you need to go to school and study” talk. He would always shut it down. He’s 27 years old, too old to even be considered a senior at this point. 

To please his mother and to make her stop talking, he walked away from the railing he was leaning on and looked down into his wine glass, swirling it around to watch the red liquid create ripples. 

Looking up, he immediately spots his father speaking to what he presumes to be a student. The student was dressed in a plain, silky short back-out white gown with spaghetti straps. 

With her rear side facing his direction, it was hard to make out what the conversation was about. Maybe his father was being the creep he always was when it came to hanging around girls decades younger than him.

He can usually tell by the look in his fathers eyes, which seemed innocent to others, but Taehyung knew better than that. He knew his father well, even if he had no desire to. 

But all he could think about was how enticing she looked, even from behind where her face was hidden. The curve of her torso allowed the silky dress to hug her body perfectly, creating a silhouette that would give any Greek sculpture a run for its money. Dragging his eyes up and down her figure, he finds himself absentmindedly outlining the perimeter of her body with his irises, imprinting it into his own memory. 

Taehyung had an excellent photographic memory. 

It was strange, really. He was never someone to be enticed by “energy”, and he was never one to approach women. Not that he didn’t want to, it’s just that he didn’t have to. Any woman he was interested in came to him first without fail. But something was pulling him forward, beckoning him to approach the mysterious girl.

Which is exactly what he did.

His steps were calculated, precise. Making good first impressions was a piece of cake for Kim Taehyung, something he was often praised for from time to time. Which is probably the reason why his parents forced him to come to this tedious event. They used him as the token golden boy, utilizing his charms and making him talk to perverted, older guests that came to their events, hoping that he’d win their favor in exchange that his father gets to strengthen his connections. They started doing this when he turned 18, making use of his good looks and people skills.

Earning his parents' respect as their son isn’t easy. Especially a son who belonged to the Kim family. He had to attend the same university as his father, and to not make a mockery out of the family name. In which, he failed to do both. Saying he has their respect now is a stretch, but they found him to be useful when it came to winning over disgusting old CEOs and Chaebols. 

His brother, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He graduated from university with high honors, even went ahead and attended graduate school as well, then he went to law school. He completed all of this by the time he turned 30. 

Taehyung appreciates that his brother took up all the responsibility, and the burden of expectations off of his shoulders.

However,

Deep inside, real deep inside, he could only dream of being the center of his parents' life the way Seokjin was. They loved him. Doted on him. Spoiled him. Gave him all the extra love and affection that should’ve gone to Taehyung instead. 

As a teenager, he was resentful towards his brother for the obvious showcase of favoritism his parents did. They didn’t even try to hide it. They would compare the two any chance they got; rubbing in the accomplishments of his elder brother in his face, reminding him that he will amount to nothing in life. 

Nothing but a burnt out artist, is what his father says. 

But whatever, Taehyung didn’t care. Not one bit.

“Hello, son,” His father greeted him once he noticed Taehyung's formidable figure saunter over, the tone of his voice evidently curt and strict in contrast to the lighthearted conversation he was having with the young lady. 

Ah, great. It was just as he guessed. His father was being a creep, and was actively flirting with this poor girl. Good thing Taehyung was here to save her from his fathers inappropriate stares and invasive questions.

Sparing his father a tight lipped smile, he walks past the young lady to align himself right next to his father, finally.

Finally, he could see her face.

And wow.

Everything around him became blurred, every sound that tried to meet his ears became all jumbled together, like indecipherable radio signals.

All he could focus on was you.

You.

You.

With his unexpected appearance, you instinctively looked up at him, his gray eyes meeting your own. He tilted his head to the side and gave you a cheeky grin, in which you reciprocated with your own, skittish smile.

That smile. 

He’ll never forget a smile like that, that’s for sure. 

The apples of your cheeks were rosy with dew and the afterglow of being in such a warm venue. Taehyung thought the sight of it was absolutely breathtaking. 

His gray eyes stayed on yours, unwavering. He intensely scanned your face, jotting down each little detail into his mind. 

Noticing the fervor of his gaze, you tore your eyes away from the fervent unwarranted stare-off and looked down at your feet, your face flushing with heat.

Aw.

He wanted to look into your eyes for a little bit longer. 

But that’s okay, he’ll get your attention one way or another.

After all, he just couldn’t help himself. 

Your face was just his type.

Would it be a stretch for him to say everything about the way you look was just his type? Perhaps, but Taehyung was known for moving extremely fast.

In more ways than one. 

“I’d like for you to meet Ms.____,” his father uttered out your first name. It sounded like a symphony to Taehyung's ears. A pretty face and a pretty name, huh.

How unfair. 

Your name began to replay like a broken record inside of his head. Sounding out each syllable internally, his tongue dragged across the side of his cheek before testing the name out loud in a hushed whisper.

The way your name began to reiterate persistently in his head – It would drive any sane person crazy.

Good thing Taehyung was the latter. 

“Well, Ms.___,” Taehyung scooped up your hand into his own, hoping the abrupt swift action will bless him with your soft gaze once again.

And it did.

With wide eyes, your neck nearly snapped as you rose your head from its previous position of looking down. You stared at him with big doe eyes, confusion swirling in your irises. 

That expression on your face was dangerous.

Especially for a man like him.

He brought your delicate hand up towards his red tinted lips, all while maintaining eye contact. He could feel you trembling in the palm of his hand.

What were you doing to him?

He felt slightly bewitched by you. He’s met his fair share of gorgeous women. Hell, he’s even met some of the world's most infamous models. 

But none of them compared to you. 

None of them had this effect on him. 

None of them took his breath away like this.

None of them at all.

He placed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, a mellow smile spreading across his face when his lips met your soft, warm skin. 

“It’s a pleasure, pretty girl,” He whispered loud enough for you to hear, his breath fanning onto the skin of your hand. 

He slowly backed away, not letting your hand go just yet, leading it downwards but still holding it firm in his grip. He had to savor your reaction before he retracts completely.

He could tell you were wary with the sudden public display of affection, especially right in front of his own father. But truly, Taehyung didn’t give a fuck. He was someone who didn’t care if anyone was watching, especially his own father. Social anxiety or upholding social status wasn’t something for him to worry about.

And you’ll come to find that out very soon. 

Sooner than you think. 

Your eyes glossy, blown out, and your mouth was slightly gaped open from shock; it sent a concealed chill down his spine. Was a pretty girl like you not used to such things? The thought alone baffled him. 

Impossible, he thought. 

“U-uh–,” you stammered out incohesive words, your eyes darting between him and his father, worry, confusion, and conflicting attraction clear in your eyes. It was cute, how worried you got over something as small as a hand kiss. 

“Nice… to meet you too? Mister…” you were dodging every attempt at eye contact Taehyung was throwing your way, but he wasn’t having it. Wherever you looked, his head would follow with a tilt and a smirk, teasing you in a playful way you weren’t used to. 

“Taehyung, but for you? My name can be whatever your heart desires.” 

He’s used that cringy pick-up line many times. Most of the time it was just to please the other person, give them something they want to hear. Usually never what he wanted.

But he meant it when he said it to you. 

That same, irresistible nervous smile crept back onto your face at his words. Your neck once again flushing hot. This time, though, your eyes were focused on how his hand was still grasping yours. 

Taehyung took this as an opportunity to grab another reaction out of you, he began rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

At this, you jumped softly, clearly not used to someone touching you like this.

Or touching you at all.

And for some reason, that thought alone excited him like nothing else. 

Suddenly, Taehyung felt his fathers hand creep onto his shoulder.

Unexpectedly this annoyed him.

More than it usually does. 

“It seems like you are already acquainting yourself with Miss.___,” his father spoke in a way that seemed placate to others, but Taehyung knew better. He was being a passive aggressive shithead. 

“Oh you know, just doing what you wanted me to, Father,” Taehyung quickly retorted back, a tight smile forming on his lips. 

His father had the nerve to get pissy as if he didn’t force him to attend this mundane event in the first place? Yeah, sure, Taehyung was grabbing the attention of the girl his father was openly flirting with, but didn’t he see how uncomfortable you were? 

He could tell how tense the mood was when he got closer to the two of you earlier. The way you were holding your left arm with your right hand, folding into yourself as his father got closer and closer to your personal bubble. 

You clearly weren’t interested.

At Taehyung’s smart aleck comment, his father shot him a look that only he caught, and walked away slowly after retracting his hand from his shoulder. 

It was better to not make a scene where people were watching. His father was extremely anal on how he was perceived; he wanted others to see him in a specific type of light. He was probably on his way to bother some other college student, anyway. Either way, Taehyung was glad he left.

Finally, old fuck. 

It’s about damn time he developed erectile dysfunction or something, how old is he again?

Regrouping himself, he finally let it sink in that you two were finally alone. 

Finally,

“Oh god, did I,” you stammered, “did I just make it really awkward? Oh my god.”

How peculiar. It was obvious that his father was the one who ruined the mood to begin with, but you resorted to blaming yourself instead. 

How peculiar. 

“Sorry I’m just not, you know… used to this,” you gestured your free hand around the venue you two were currently in the middle of. Everything was glistening with marble, glitter, blinding shades of white, and overly priced furniture. To anyone not used to such a lifestyle, it would of course be overwhelming. 

But to Taehyung, it just seemed tacky. 

Tacky and distasteful. 

If it were up to him, the whole idea of everything being white would be thrown out the window.

What’s up with rich people and their odd obsession with things white and marbley?

“Not used to try-hard rich people and their shitty interior designing?” Taehyung quipped, a smirk present on his lips as he raised his wine glass for a sip.

“What?! No! No. I, well… no!” the screws in your head were visibly malfunctioning, fighting with each other, trying to decide whether or not you should directly insult the interior of the venue right in front of him. Given the fact that he was the son of the man who invited you to such an event, and granted you a scholarship.

And possibly the son of the man who came up with the interior design of everything you’re looking at.

A chuckle rumbled in Taehyung's chest as he watched your internal and outward struggle. He could tell by the quick glint in your eyes that you agreed with him, but were too afraid to say something that would cause conflict. Tilting his head to the side, he raised his wine glass once again to his lips, taking a swig of it while he looked you up and down over the rim.

To his surprise, you still haven’t retracted your hand from his.

Lowering his drink, his tongue pressed to the side of his cheek once again out of habit. 

You still weren’t looking at him. 

“You know, it’s rude to refuse eye contact, pretty girl,” he said matter-of- factly in a teasing tone, fauxing disappointment.

“Oh,” you breathed out, clearly flustered at the recurring pet name and with the fact that he just called out your inability to maintain eye contact. 

With hesitancy, you looked up at him, your eyes shifting left and right a few times before settling on his intense gray orbs. 

It seemed to have surprised you that he was staring at you intensely this whole time because the moment your eyes connected with his, your body shifted. To his disappointment, you slowly retracted your hand from his, putting it back to your side. 

With his now free hand, Taehyung lifted it towards your face. And like any normal person, you flinched and moved backwards a bit. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

Cute.

But, he couldn’t hold himself back.

He had to do something. 

He tested the waters first, nudging his fingers against your jaw, caressing the outline of the bone before cupping your right cheek. His hand gently melts onto your warm, soft skin. He looks at you intently, deep in thought.

You were so beautiful.

Dangerously so. Taehyung wasn’t the type to be bewitched like this. 

His fingers caressed your warm face, your wide eyes trembling at him with uncertainty, confusion. He dragged his thumb from your cheek down to the supple lumps of your lips. He began gliding the digit left and right on your bottom lip before slowly pulling down on the muscle, revealing just a peak of your bottom teeth and the soft wet flesh on the inside, your gums a pretty pink. 

Even with all of this going on, he still maintained eye contact with you. His gaze never wavering. 

And his mind began to wander. 

It began to wander to menacing thoughts. 

Taehyung was known for having… an acquired taste, when it came to certain things. He’s been told so by many women in his life. It’s not like he wanted to like those things, it just happened by default. Things that excite him, that shouldn’t excite him. Things that he likes to do to others, to the people he’s interested in. Things such as bending and twisting them at his will, pulling a leg here, doing a thing there, just to pull a reaction out of them. He knew such things were red flags, concerning even. But if it was between two consenting adults, what was the problem?

Which is why he began to envision this woman he just met a few minutes ago sucking on his thumb. He imagined the look you would have in your eyes; innocent, glossy, excited, scared, unsure. He imagined the soft, spongy texture of your tongue, slick on his finger, how you’d open up for him like a good girl. And those eyes. They were dangerous, Taehyung decided. Looking at them for too long already had him spiraling with these thoughts.

You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?

Like a twig, he snapped out of his daze. His eyes finally focusing on you quickly taking a step back, wiping away the inkling of spit that dripped out of your mouth as a result of your bottom lip being pried open. With a red face, you looked at him, completely disoriented and confused.

Taehyung didn’t even notice the wetness on his thumb, or the spittle that trickled down the digit onto his knuckle.

Ah, oops.

“W-what was that-,” you stuttered out, your hand clasping against your mouth in shock, eyes frantically looking around, relief sagging on your shoulders when you noticed no one was looking. But there was a cloud hanging over your head, weighing down on you. 

A cloud you didn’t quite understand.

Just yet.

“Become my muse.”

“What-,” You blinked at him, completely caught off guard.

“Let me paint you. Be my muse.” He cut you off before you could question him any further. 

Taehyung had already made up his mind the moment he set eyes on you. Even when your back was facing him; he already knew what he wanted.

And Taehyung was a man known for getting exactly what he wanted. 

[ray935sworld]

Thunderstorm and children's laughter cut-out scene

So basically this is a scene I wanted to include in the main story but at the end it didnt really fit without making the fic even longer, so if you're intrested..

(Can be read alone, I guess, just so you know all the academy boys got de-aged during the night and now rosquez has to deal with them)

It's set during watching cars

Marc ushered his boyfriend inside the kitchen. As soon as he decided they were far enough and the move would cover they conversation, he hissed „Why the fuck are they all like 4 years old?” He was gripping Vale’s arm tightly forcing the older one to look at him.

“How would I know?!” was all he got in response. And he was not satisfied with that. The Italian was letting his frustration and confusion take over. He trusted Marc enough to handle his emotions. There was no need to pretend with him and getting even more exhausted from faking not freaking out over the situation. “I know as much as you do!”  

But his Spaniard stared at him with a look that clearly said ‘Don’t give me that’ and instead matched his sassy energy. “Oh, maybe cause they are YOUR children?” He emphasized the ‘your’ which didn’t help with calming the Italian. “Shouldn’t you know if it’s maybe normal for them to turn into kids? I mean, we were at the same place, had the same drinks and foods. But we are not little. We are adults. Adults like they are supposed to be as well. But your kids are literal kids right now!”

To have it stated like this made him panic. Of course he saw them as his substitute kids. How could he not? He had seen them grow up since they were born, 13, 15 or 18. They had been with him for years, decades. Some of them had even been there when Sic died. He knew how to take care of them, when they were teens or adults. He could manage them.

But child-care? He knew nothing about child-care and he certainly wouldn’t be able to handle 6 energetic kids. He didn’t want to be responsible for them. What if something happened?

“They are not my kids.” He insisted. The panic that had been rising in his chest spoke for him. So his only hope was to point out the missing blood connection. He tried to get his own senses back by doing so. “You know they are not. They-“

“We are not?”

A quite voice made their blood freeze. The words sounded broken and were spoken in high tune. Shocked, they turned around.

Cele was standing there, his big eyes fixed on both of them. He looked even younger and more innocent. His upper lip was wobbling dangerously. There were already tears forming in his eyes. Fuck. Vale immediately knew he fucked up.

He was scratching his brain for a solution. He needed to do something. Fast. “Eh- I… I mean we are family. But we aren’t blood-“ “Of course you are our children” It was either interrupting him or smacking the shit out of the older. Marc had chosen the kid friendly version.

With a smile he stepped next to him and  kneeled down. He softly put his hand on his cheek and wiped the little tear off his skin. “You are our little boy. Our sweet, kind, precious baby. You and your brother. You are our god boys, our lovely children” His voice was filled with warmth. It visibly calmed Cele.

To make him ultimately calm down, he carefully picked him up and placed him on his hip. Immediately he clung to him like his life depended on it. His small hands were wrapped around his torso. Together they looked at Vale who had a guilty look on his face.

“You know, Celin, your papa was just making one of his stupid jokes” “But… But jokes should be funny. Wasn’t funny” he muttered, now hiding his face in his shirt. “No, it really was a bad joke” he agreed. He couldn’t hide the grin. “But you know how he is… And he is old. Back then stuff like that was considered funny” “He really is old”

“Hey! I’m not that old!” He tried to protested. “Corazon, te amo, but you’re older than space shuttles. And DNA fingerprinting and compact disc. Back to the future, another one the dust, star wars 5, teen wolf… Do I have to go on, old man, or should we just go back to watching cars?”

The MotoGP legend was too stunned to speak. Something told him that Marc had at some point prepared those arguments. He had definitely looked up what was older than Vale. Just to mess with him. And now he had the nerves to innocently smile at him as he turned around to leave, the nodding Cele in his arm.

“Cars is younger than him too!” Cele exclaimed and Marc smiled. “That’s right. You’re a very smart boy. But sadly you’re older than Cars too, so I fear that one doesn’t really count��

[ilovecookies12]

Yandere Head Chef x Chubby reader

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Note:This is My first time posting one of my stories here in Tumblr so hope you like it, And if your under 18 Years old PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS, but if you are above then your free to read.

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Warning: Swearing and mention of NSFW

Chapter 1

“(Y/n)! Oi!” Shouted By a Man On his 40s, preparing the order a customer just ask for, his Face scowled in annoyance as he sees you cutting the vegetables into horizontals not Sideways Like he ask for, “Are You stupid or something? How the Fuck are you going to make a normal curry with this shit” He stated, taking your hands off Your work and continue to show you how to properly cut it, “like this, hope your small Ass brain Could Fit this Information” He scowled, Walking back To the order before setting it To The waiters window.

You were (Y/n) an 19 Year old Collage student who took the Course Of culinary, Hoping to be a chef one day, So you decided To take The job as an Kitchen Porter hoping to gain Some insights on how To handle a kitchen, Well you were Expected to do Task all around the kitchen by helping on miscellaneous things That Keeps The kitchen Running, You were not supposed to be helping a chef to prepare food especially the head chef, However he keeps insisting that you should help him, It was Weird how he ask for you specifically always, having 10 Different professional chefs in the Same kitchen but still he chooses you, Others Might find it weird but for you was Quite the opposite, You find it as a great opportunity to learn things even if his Words might hurt you sometimes.

A girl with bright curly hair approach you, a smirk hiding in her face, nudging your shoulder as she whispered “bet that old guy really want a taste of a girl like you”, you gaze upon her with disgust, “did something ate your Brain or your just having a fucking Aneurism, Girl that man just insulted my work and your saying he has a Thing for me” I whispered, taking the Broom next to her.

She was the sous chef aka your friend since you came here, you could simply describe her as a hardworking, kind hearted and a little bit crazy, She keep Shipping me with The Head chef, saying things like age is just a number or She approved on being the aunt for our wedding, Her name was Isabella De La Cruz, A Filipino OFW who became a resident after marrying the owner of this restaurant, talk about luck.

“like for real, the way he looks at you is different, I know that man for 5 years and it’s the first time I see him Be this Close and even choose someone to help him” she whispered, Leaning over you, who was currently sweeping the floor while she was helping a new Fry chef how to handle the deep fryer, you rolled Your eyes, “Just do your job” You muttered, Finishing your Task.

As the night Progress, Customers flood in, you never really notice how Andrew the head chef, Looks at you, his gaze roaming around your form as you help the others diligently never once complained how they treated you especially him,

You were different.

Just like the first time he laid his eyes upon you, a working student that he expected to be sensitive and always tired same with the others who resigned the job you were taking, he thought that your not going to last for a week but his mistake, You were still here for about a year now,

The way your curves fit perfectly with that white uniform, Your hair were frenzied in a ponytail, You were somewhat glowing in his gaze, he never experienced such things before especially the part were his heart skipped a beat whenever you stepped closer to him or when you accidentally touch his hands during your task, he likes the feeling of it.

That’s why sometimes he’ll find a way to somehow feel your skin Against him by asking for you to aid him during preparations.

He also liked seeing your expression whenever He speak degrading words at you, imagining how would you react as he fuck you behind, smacking that thick ass of yours while your juice soaked his dick inside.

A perfect wife for perfect man like him.

[sailoryooons]

yoonkook crack. jungkook has still not exited his twilight phase and wants to be a cullen soooooo bad. yoongi, an actual hundred-year-old vampire, is tired of him.

❀ Pairing: Human!Jungkook x Vampire!Yoongi

❀ Summary: Jungkook loves reading his smutty vampire comic and so what if he fashions himself a little bit after the main character. Yoongi finds it wildly offensive. Every day he has to watch Jungkook play at being ominous and spooky - and okay, maybe it’s a little cute. But it’s mostly offensive, and Yoongi would know. He’s a vampire, after all. 

❀ Word Count: 8,727

❀ Genre: Supernatural, coworkers to lovers, crack, pwp

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings:Jungkook is whatever the weeb equivalent is to Vampires - a Veeb, if you will, a little bit of pining, Misc. Vampire Lore I Made Up, Sekhmet vampire theory makes an appearances again, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected anal sex, oral (m. receiving) a lot of fluids and lub and come and spit, ass play (m. receiving), Jungkook cannot pick a position to fuck Yoongi, bottom Yoongi, top Jungkook, like? Random convos about predator/prey dynamic but not really you’ll see what I mean it’s there if u squint, Jungkook basically being a giant vampire nerd and cringe sometimes but it’s cute?

❀ Published: April 5, 2023

❀ A/N: THANK YOU TO M FOR REQUESTING THIS ABSOLUTE FUCKING GONG SHOW OF A FIC. This fic ame about… I actually do not at all remember how we got on this topic but basically we were laughing at the idea of Vampire Nerd JK losing it after finding out Yoongi was a vampire. Jungkook was originally supposed to be Acting More Like A Vampire but I realize it was more of I’m Kind Of Like A Vampire and The Authority On Them. Whatever, I actually like how this turned out and I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT M I LOVE YOU AND WE ARE IN A COMPLETELY NORMAL, MONOGAMOUS, VERY ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP. ALSO WHOOPS I SLIPPED AND MY 1-2K IS OVER 8K I’M EMBARAZZARDDD

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Milestone Event Request Fill |

Min Yoongi hates Jeon Jungkook. 

No, that’s not entirely true. What Yoongi hates is Jungkook’s stupid fucking comic books. 

Jungkook slinks into the breakroom, eyes sweeping the mostly empty room until they settle on Yoongi and he smiles. Yoongi’s stomach flips at the small - perhaps imagined - light in Jungkook’s eyes as he pulls his backpack tighter and rushes over to the chair opposite Yoongi.

Slinging his backpack on the table, Jungkook winces when he knocks Yoongi’s thermos over. Yoongi catches it, lightning quick as Jungkook looks at him with wide, surprised eyes. He murmurs an apology and Yoongi waves it off, settling back into his chair as Jungkook sits down and begins shuffling through his backpack like a pack rat. 

Though Yoongi’s eyes are focused on the pages of his book, the letters swim before him as he observes Jungkook from the edge of his vision. He smells sweet, like honeysuckle. Sunshine. Warmth. He makes little sounds of frustration as he struggles to find what he’s looking for. After several huffs, Yoongi looks up, inky eyes looking at Jungkook who stares at his bag angrily. 

“There are Hello Pandas in the cabinet,” Yoongi offers gently. Jungkook looks up, blushing and chewing his lip. Yoongi shrugs as though Jungkook asked a question. “Saw them in there this morning.”

“Cool, thanks, hyung.” 

When Jungkook gets up, back facing Yoongi to go to the office pantry, Yoongi allows himself a small, secret smile. 

This shared routine of reading at lunch is Yoongi’s favorite. Every day they arrive in a pattern. Yoongi first, sitting at the table closest to the fridge and pulling the chair so it’s back is against the wall. He’ll pull out a book and spend the first five minutes reading, the loud noises of office life no longer a distraction after years of practice.

Second, Jungkook will come in. He’ll look around to assess who is in the breakroom, even though he always sits in the seat across from Yoongi. He’ll get his little snacks - usually Hello Panda cookies or a protein smoothie - and sit next to Yoongi and read his Fang Fucker comics, which he hides away with custom book covers.

So no, Yoongi doesn’t hate Jungkook. Not at all, really. But Yoongi does hate the way that he spots little vampire fang pins on Jungkook’s bags. Sees that he’s wrapped a red ribbon around one of the straps, smelling faintly of dried blood. 

Yoongi ignores the pang of hunger in his stomach as Jungkook returns, settling into his chair as Jungkook tears the corner of the package open with his teeth. He does everything with his fucking teeth, and Yoongi has told him dozens of times that Jungkook is going to damage them.

I have sharp teeth, hyung, was always the response, a secret smile on Jungkook’s face.

Now, Jungkook pulls out his book and cracks the spine, the sound whisper-soft against Yoongi’s sharp hearing. Jungkook slouches in his seat, popping a cookie into his mouth as his eyes become hypnotized on the page, book supported by his knees as he brings his feet on the edge of his chair, curled up.

Yoongi’s stomach turns to acid when he sees the comic panels. A crass, horrendous take on vampires, Fang Fuckers follows the story of two lovers separated by the laws of the supernatural. Belle, a human prone to accidents and drawing the attention of anything with a pulse forever pines after Eddie, a vampire always clad in jeans and who is effortlessly cool.

Glancing at Jungkook’s outfit, Yoongi presses his lips in a firm line. Today, Jungkook is dressed in jeans with the ankles rolled, a pair of dirty high-tops on his feet. His t-shirt is tucked loosely into the waist of his jeans, making Yoongi’s eyes linger far too long on Jungkook’s tapered waist. His tattoos are hidden by the sleeves of a jean jacket, worn and soft with time. 

Lately, Jungkook lets his hair grow out. It’s wild and wavy, trimmed somewhere between a mullet and a wolf cut. Just like Eddies, Yoongi notes with an eye twitch. Still, it looks good on Jungkook, the way most things do. 

The hair and the outfits aren’t the only thing that Jungkook imitates. Yoongi tries to focus on his own book instead of thinking about Jungkook’s little habits. The way Jungkook tells people he’s allergic to garlic, or how he has taken to walking as quietly around the office as possible. In a way, it’s a little bit amusing to watch Jungkook try to be mysterious and vague about how he spends his weekend. 

Just yesterday, Yoongi watched Jungkook flinch at the sun as everyone started walking to their cars after work. It had made him roll his eyes, but it is… sort of cute, this little fascination Jungkook has with the undead. The eternal. The absolutely ridiculous and not-at-all-accurate vampires in his little stories. 

But it’s also a little insulting. Especially when Jungkook argues with Taehyung about whether or not a stake would actually work on a vampire, or if vampires can see their reflections in a mirror. Yoongi has heard them whispering, tucked away in Jungkook’s cubicle next to Yoongi’s as they search Reddit threads about the best place to look for vampires. 

Taehyung walks into the breakroom. He’s in flowy tan trousers, a white t-shirt tucked in, and a soft-looking cardigan. He’s got multi-layered necklaces around his neck that clink as he goes to the fridge, asking what Jungkook is reading. 

Jungkook doesn’t look up when he says, “Spiderman.” 

“That’s nice,” Taehyung answers, a smirk evident in his voice. Yoongi knows Spiderman is their code for reading their little vampire porn. “New volume?”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook mumbles around a mouthful of Hello Pandas.

The snap of the cookies in his mouth sets Yoongi on edge. He glares at Jungkook, but the younger boy doesn’t notice, crunching away as he drinks in the colorful pages of his little book. Yoongi's jaw ticks. Jungkook’s brow is pulled together and he chews with a frown, the only sign that Yoongi has that he’s enjoying his snack and reading. 

There is a steady rhythm to the sounds of the breakroom. It’s Yoongi's favorite place at work. He’s always the first in, making coffee that fills the space with a slightly burnt smell. Taehyung comes in next, smiling and clothes swishing, always bright-eyed. Jungkook is usually the last in, quiet and avoidant as he snatches banana milk from the fridge and vanishes to his cubicle. 

The break room isn’t much. The linoleum is peeling, the fridge hums so loud that Yoongi can hear it at his desk, and there’s always a mysterious puddle by the sink. But his coworkers fill the space with their chatter. It’s where he learns about their lives. 

It’s where Yoongi learns that Taehyung loves to listen to jazz, humming Ella Fitzgerald while he uses the microwave. It’s where he learns that Jimin is dating Hoseok from product marketing, the room filled with their secret smiles and innocent hands brushing against one another. It’s where he learns that Jungkook liked to read Fang Fucker. Where he learns that Jungkook, sometimes a little distracted, communicates in soft noises rather than words. 

The break room is filled with the drama of coworkers and whispers. It’s full of humanity and Yoongi is well… not. 

A sudden hiss catches Yoongi’s attention. He smells the blood before he sees it. Taehyung is reaching for a rag at the counter, lemon left on a cutting board with a scarlet-painted knife. Yoongi works his jaw as he watches Taehyung wrap his hand, iron and salt blooming in the air, heavy on Yoongi’s tongue.

Jungkook goes rigid. Yoongi is distracted for a split second, eyes turning from Taehyung tending to his sliced finger as Jungkook launches upward out of his chair and bolts for the door. Yoongi raises his brow, watching it slam shut beside him as Taehyung looks up at the closed door, then swivels to Yoongi.

“Uhhh, can you get me a bandaid?” 

Yoongi nods, glaring at the door as he stands. “Sure.”

If there is one thing Yoongi knows, it’s that he is sick of Jungkook playing the part of a vampire. 

-

The love-hate relationship between work happy hours and Yoongi  is a complexity Yoongi has yet to unravel. He likes watching his coworkers unwind, sipping drinks through their little black straws and admitting they hate Jeffery from the data team. He thinks it’s sweet when he sees Hoseok get Jimin flustered by whispering something in his ear - something Yoongi wishes he didn’t hear over the roar of the bar but does. 

And yet Yoongi doesn’t like the press of people. Doesn’t like the way the sound of their collective voices buzz through him, or the way that he can feel their pulses throbbing behind thin skin, a hypnotic beat only he can hear and feel. It makes him feel crowded and irritable, but he likes watching the bright, burning flame of vitality and life here. 

It makes him feel human again, even if he hasn’t been for a very, very long time. 

Taehyung is pressed against the bar, telling Jungkook at hyperspeed how he met the very tall, very broad man next to him, who watches Taehyung with soft eyes and a dimple carving a hollow in his cheek. Namjoon. His name is Namjoon, Yoongi remembers. 

Yoongi watches over the rim of his glass, sipping his whisky as Jungkook’s finger traces the drops of condensation on his beer bottle, zigzagging around the label, ignoring Taehyung as he rambles on about Virginia Woolf. The movement catches his eye, and Yoongi focuses first on Jungkook's finger, long and slender. Then the tattoos and swirling ink that vanish under his sleeve, then the veins in his hand, pumping O positive through his body.

Though there is a unique note to each blood type, people smell different too. Taehyung smells like sugar, something light and spun like cotton candy. Namjoon smells like lemon and wax, something Yoongi would maybe find in a bookstore. And Jungkook…. Jungkook smells like honeysuckle, growing strong under a warm sun in the middle of spring. 

Yoongi’s mouth waters and he looks away, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and waving the bartender down for another. When he turns back to the conversation, Jungkook is scowling, brows pinched, mouth pouted. “That isn’t all I know about wolves,” he huffs in Taehyung's direction. His hands disappear in his jacket sleeves as he fiddles with the string. “And anyway, what would you know?”

Taehyung gives Jungkook a look. “About the same as you? We read the same comics.”

“Ugh, those aren’t the only source material.”

Yoongi puts together that somehow the topic of Virgina Woolf has led them to wolves and vampires. He fights the urge to roll his eyes, but he squeezes his glass a little tighter. Yoongi looks at Namjoon, hoping that Taehyung’s new boyfriend will help.

Instead, Namjoon sips his gin and tonic and cocks his head. “I’ve seen Tae reading those comics. Do they actually have any relevance to the historical lore of the vampire, or is it made up?”

“Oh a ton of it is deep rooted in historical and scientific studies,” Jungkook answers excitedly. Yoongi groans and Jungkook casts him a dubious look over his shoulder. Yoongi tongues the inside of his cheek and looks away. “The writer did a ton of research.”

Bullshit, Yoongi thinks but doesn’t say it out loud. 

Still, Yoongi listens to Jungkook drone on and on about how the pop culture depictions of vampires originate from the stories and myths of small villages in Romania, furthered by Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Now that makes Yoongi grin into his glass a little, agreeing that almost all of the media surrounding vampires rely heavily on European myths and stories. 

He watches the way Jungkook speaks, momentarily hypnotized. Jungkook isn’t an eloquent speaker, stopping often to blush and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear or find his words, chewing on his bottom lip. When he gains confidence, he speaks faster, using his hands more as he speaks, looking back and forth between Namjoon and Taehyung who are a loyal, captive audience.

Yoongi softens a little.

At heart, Jungkook is someone who is a bit of a fanatic. It’s harmless for now, Yoongi thinks. He’s always carefully listening to Jungkook, no matter how annoying it gets. Making sure that he can protect him, that he can pick up when Jungkook is in any real danger. 

“Historical research suggests that the first coven of Romanian vampires was called the Ouroborus,” Jungkook says. Yoongi goes rigid. Taehyung looks at Yoongi over Jungkook’s shoulder, tilting his head in a question, but the youngest of their group continues on. “That’s where Stoker got Dracula’s name idea from. It comes from the Romanian word dracul which is the devil but really it’s from the Latin draco for dragon. Really silly, because the dragon looks nothing like the serpent, but I think Dracula was a real figure who started the Our-”

“The Ouroborus are not Romanian, nor was that the point of origin.” Yoongi only belatedly realizes he says this out loud as the group turns to him. Jungkook’s flushed lips are parted and his eyes are round. Yoongi hears the way Jungkook’s heart speeds up, and senses his confusion. Yoongi clears his throat and diverts his eyes, shrugging it off. “That symbol means nothing.” 

“The Ouroborus symbol is for eternal life,” Jungkook says slowly, still recovering from the fact that Yoongi has bothered to entertain the conversation. Yoongi already regrets speaking up. The room is noisy and his throat burns. He’s a little hungry, and Jungkook, who turns toward him, smells a little too good. “And the confusion between the snake and the dragon makes perfect sense.”

“The Ouroboros is not eternity. It’s life and death.”

Jungkook frowns and sets his beer on the counter. “Hyung, no it’s not.” 

“Ah, whatever. It’s fine, forget I said anything.”

“No, hyung. You’re wrong.” 

And oh. Yoongi knows that expression that Jungkook is wearing. His jaw is set and sharp, lips pressed in a firm line. Jungkook stares at Yoongi, eyes intense and fist closed on the bar top, pressing into the sticky, lacquered counter. It’s cute when Jungkook looks like this. He’s determined and frustrated, and Yoongi hears the way Jungkook’s pulse begins to rush and sees the way his jaw flexes. 

Jungkook has never turned his argument face on Yoongi. There was nothing to ever argue about. Until now, Yoongi has tolerated Jungkook’s vampire fanaticism in silence. And yet the simple mention of Ouroborus has Yoongi on edge. 

“It represents infinity,” Jungkook insists. “The eternity of life of a vampire, the never ending cycle of immortality.”

“It’s the never ending cycle of death and life.” Yoongi’s tone is hard. He feels the overwhelming need for Jungkook to get this right. To not look into Ouruborus. To understand. “The Ouroborus originates as far back as Ancient Egypt when the god Ra created the goddess Sekhmet to destroy and punish humanity. She and her followers were immortal - the eternal representation of death and destruction. And when they couldn’t stop, Ra banished them to the darkness, never to walk in the sun again. Her followers took on the snake eating its tail to represent how their existence would always bring death and destruction.” 

Jungkook scoffs. “Vampires didn’t originate in Egypt. That’s not right.”

“They didn’t originate from anywhere, Jungkook. They just are. And they’re not all the same creatures, no matter what your little vampire porn book tells you.”

Yoongi regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. Jungkook recoils like he’s been slapped, his expression slipping from frustrated to hurt. 

Sighing, Yoongi reaches for Jungkook. Jungkook shrugs him off and throws cash on the bar before looking at Taehyung and Namjoon who watch in mute horror, bystanders to a car crash they can’t control. “See you guys later.” 

Shoving his way through the crowd, Jungkook vanishes. Yoongi can still smell him, though. Can hear the way Jungkook’s heart is racing, can taste the anxiety and anger rolling off of him. Yoongi wants to smack his own head against the countertop. 

“Well go after him,” Taehyung says, drawing Yoongi’s attention. Taehyung looks him up and down and laughs a little. “You’re hopeless.”

“What do you mean?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “You obviously hate Jungkook’s obsession with vampires for whatever reason, but you’ve spent the last three years at work circulating him like a little satellite. You think I don’t notice you stocking the cabinet with Hello Pandas? Or putting that nasty banana milk in the fridge? You hate it and yet you indulge in him. So go apologize for making fun of him and make out or something.” 

“I…” Yoongi trails off and Taehyung smirks. 

“You told Jimin to stop talking about his fascination with tarot two days in because it was annoying you. You’ve let Jungkook talk to you and around you about vampires for three years.” 

Yoongi scratches the back of his ear. He can’t blush, but if he could, he would be stained pink from his ears to his nose under Taehyung’s accusations. “Ah. Sorry to ruin the night.”

“Go,” Taehyung grins. “And at least make out for a little, watching you pretend not to notice one another during your little reading lunches is exhausting.” 

It’s a cool night, silence blanketing the mostly-empty parking lot. The sun has made her final descent and given way to the moon, which slowly climbs into the sky, bracketed by stars. Yoongi sees Jungkook standing near the entrance to the fenced-in parking lot, looking down at his phone as he toes gravel beneath his shoe. Yoongi hears the soft crunch and he sighs.

Jungkook doesn’t hear him coming. He never does, and this time Yoongi doesn’t announce his arrival or make human noises. Instead, he takes a second to drink in Jungkook. Jungkook is bathed in the halo of a streetlamp that buzzes loudly above their heads. It’s still early night, a little bit of color in the sky near the horizon, but Yoongi only has eyes for Jungkook, who sniffs a little and wipes at his face with the back of his sleeve.

An ache fills Yoongi’s chest when he realizes that Jungkook has been crying. Or at least has shed a single tear. He sees Jungkook swallow thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing. He adjusts his backpack, fang and bat pins reflecting in the street lamp.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Jungkook lurches and cries out in alarm, jumping away from Yoongi and whirling around. Yoongi winces when Jungkook stumbles but catches his balance, pulse beating so loudly that Yoongi can’t help but drop his gaze down to where Jungkook’s blood rushes wildly through his jugular, artery pulsing. 

“Yeah, well,” Jungkook huffs, scowling. “You did.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah right.” Jungkook turns away and looks at his phone. Yoongi can see him waiting for an Uber. 

“Jungkook.”

“I get it,” Jungkook snaps. “You think I’m weird. You don’t like my comics, you don’t like that I find this stuff cool, and you don’t like me. Message received.” 

“I never said any of that.” 

Jungkook throws a heated glance his way. “Oh, so you do like my comics?”

“No,” Yoongi admits. “Because they’re wrong.” He sees the hurt flicker across Jungkook’s face and Yoongi wants to scream. “I don’t mean wrong because of the sex shit or whatever. I don’t care about that. They’re wrong about vampires. All of it.” 

“How would you know?” Jungkook asks the question and Yoongi wants to answer so badly. Wants to blurt it out, wants to admit that he has the stupid answers to Jungkook’s questions. “You don’t know anything about vampires. And then you made fun of me and embarrassed me.”

“You shouldn’t be talking about or looking into Ouroborus.”

“What do you know?” 

“I know things.”

“Not about this, you don’t even like vampires.”

“You don’t know what I like.”

“Yeah, because you barely talk to me. We’ve been coworkers for years - sat next to each other for years. I get it, but don’t make fun of the things I like. Don’t talk nonsense just to tease me.”

And oh Yoongi sees it now. Sees the insecurity creep in, sees the boy who thinks that his coworker is taking the thing he loves most and using it as a weapon.

Jungkook seems to fold in on himself, arms hugging around his middle, chin tucking to his neck. He looks so small like this, and Yoongi wants to kick himself. Hasn't Jungkook seen how much Yoongi does like him? Hasn’t he noticed how Yoongi waters the plants on Jungkook’s desk that would have died by now? How he puts his favorite snacks in the break room? How he always makes sure to stay late at the office and walk out together, just to make sure no one hurts Jungkook? 

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” Yoongi says gently. “You scared me.”

“I-” Jungkook cuts himself off and tilts his head. His earrings catch the light. Delicate like the careful slope of his mouth, like the soft skin of his neck. “Scared you?”

“Most of your rambling about vampires is annoying,” Yoongi admits and Jungkook scrunches his nose. “But harmless. Not able to hurt anyone. Sometimes you’re right. Sometimes you’re wrong. But then tonight you started talking about Ouroborus, and I don’t even know where you heard of that, but you shouldn’t be looking into it. Into them.” 

“There are symbols in my comic book,” Jungkook says slowly. His lips are a little pouted, distracting Yoongi from the dangerous subject matter. “And hints. So I looked it up. They’re like, a vampire coven-”

“They’re a cult.” Yoongi is firm. Clenches and unclenches his fist. “Stop looking them up, Jungkook. They love people like you, hypnotized by the mystery and the thrill. Please.” 

“How do you know?” Yoongi knew he would ask. Jungkook shakes his head, earrings clinking together. Down the street, a cat yowls at someone walking by. “I thought you hated my vampire stuff. You always make a face when Tae and I talk about it.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Okay, well I do hate your vampire stuff.”

“Exactly, so why should I take anything you say for fact? I’ve spent hours reading on this stuff-”

“Well I’ve spent two hundred and seven years as a vampire. My anniversary is actually in two weeks.” 

Yoongi’s admission hangs heavily between them. Jungkook stares, open mouth. Yoongi suddenly has the very human urge to shift from foot-to-foot. Or to fidget, which isn’t something that he feels often - nervousness isn’t something that he feels often.

Yet he feels it all the time with Jungkook. Feels like squirming in his chair when Jungkook leans on the breakroom table between them, laying his head on his backpack with Fang Fucker tucked in his lap. Feels annoyed when he sees Eddie turning into bats on the pages, misting across panels to save Belle on the other side. Feels fond and happy when Jungkook gets through a presentation without stumbling, especially after Yoongi could hear him practicing in the bathroom all morning. 

Jungkook makes Yoongi feel so human. Makes him feel things that he doesn’t need at all, but wants.  

“You what?”

The Uber pulls into the parking lot, tires hissing against crackling gravel. Jungkook ignores the car completely, even though Yoongi waves his hand and moves out of the car's way. Headlights flash toward them as Yoongi turns, and Jungkook gasps, leaning backward but not taking a full step. 

Yoongi knows what the younger has just seen. A sliver reflection of eyes, flashing in the sudden flooding of light against them. Predator eyes when exposed to light in the dark. Jungkook is squeezing his phone tight in his hands, knuckles white. His heart is racing and he totally ignores it when the driver rolls down the window and asks if he’s Jungkook. 

“Prove it,” Jungkook says to Yoongi.

“What? You believe me?”

“Maybe. Prove you’re one and that you’re not just turning this into a joke.” He takes a deep breath. “Prove you’re not making fun of me.” 

“I would never-”

“Prove it, Yoongi.”

Yoongi. Not hyung. Yoongi fights a smile at how ferocious Jungkook demands this, hands fisted at his side. Yoongi gestures to the car. “Get in. To wherever you live. I can show you.”

Nodding, Jungkook pops open the door and slides right into the car. Yoongi sighs, looking upward and closing his eyes briefly. Of course Jungkook would get into a car with someone who just told him he was a vampire. Jungkook has no fear of Yoongi, not a single worry in the world. Even as Yoongi slides into the back seat, casting his dark eyes in Jungkook’s direction, there is not a single iota of anxiety in Jungkook’s face or scent.

Just pure, unfettered excitement. 

City lights blur by. Yoongi watches Jungkook, flickering shadows and light as they pass by other cars on the road. Jungkook watches Yoongi right back, his dark eyes studying Yoongi as though he could find some sort of visual indicator that Yoongi is the vampire he says he is. 

This is dangerous. Yoongi knows that he shouldn’t be indulging. But the crestfallen face Jungkook made when he thought Yoongi was making fun of him and the memory of Jungkook sniffling softly makes Yoongi throw caution to the wind. 

Yoongi trusts himself around Jungkook. 

They don’t speak until they’re at Jungkook’s apartment and he’s walking over the threshold, flipping on the light. Yoongi remains on the other side of the door and that urge to fidget is back as Yoongi’s anxiety spikes. He doesn’t move, watching as Jungkook holds the door open, his back facing Yoongi. 

Idiot, Yoongi thinks, Jungkook not realizing that he has turned his back to a predator. 

When Yoongi doesn’t cross, Jungkook looks over his shoulder, head tilted. Puzzled. Yoongi gazes at Jungkook intently, eyes flickering to the floor back up to Jungkook. For a human, Jungkook is perceptive. He tracks Yoongi’s gaze and his mouth forms a soft ‘o’ as he meets Yoongi’s eyes.

“Can you not cross?” Yoongi shakes his head and Jungkook hums, holding the door open wider. “Prove it.”

Yoongi sighs. Lifts his foot and brings it forward, though he already knows what’s going to happen. He meets an invisible barrier, foot stopping in mid air. It feels like kicking a wall, solid and unrelenting. Yoongi puts his foot back down, but Jungkook doesn’t seem satisfied. 

Reaching through the door, Jungkook pulls Yoongi by the hand. Yoongi flinches, startled that Jungkook is touching him so freely as he pulls Yoongi’s hand toward the door frame. Jungkook’s hand passes through just fine, but he meets resistance as Yoongi’s hand hits the invisible wall, palm flat and pressing on it. 

With a noise somewhere between a gasp and giggle, Jungkook tugs Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi rolls his eyes, but lets Jungkook yank at his jacket sleeve. Nothing he does helps, and Yoongi is stuck with his hand pressed up against the barrier and Jungkook’s long fingers wrapped around his forearms, tugging. 

“Wow,” Jungkook whispers. He looks up at Yoongi, stars in his eyes, blush on his face and the most beautiful smile Yoongi has ever seen. “I just have to…?” Yoongi nods, understanding the question. “Come in, hyung.” 

Before Yoongi can step through the door, Jungkook tugs Yoongi’s arm. It doesn’t make Yoongi move much. He’s an aged vampire, strong and fast. But it’s cute when Jungkook lets out a squeal as Yoongi steps over the threshold into Jungkook’s home, the door slamming shut behind him.

Jungkook doesn’t bother turning the lights on, getting up close to Yoongi and tilting his head. He’s much taller than Yoongi, though about as broad. This close, Yoongi can hear the blood rushing through Jungkook’s nervous system, a whisper of sound against his hyper-sensitive ears. He can smell Jungkook, sweet and like spring, nearly taste him on his tongue as Jungkook looks at Yoongi’s mouth.

“Fangs?” he asks, because it’s Jungkook. Of course he isn’t afraid that there is an apex predator in his home, that Yoongi could rip him apart and- “Show me.”

Yoongi doesn’t know why he does it. Or maybe he does. Because since Jungkook walked into work three years ago, Yoongi has done nothing but indulge Jungkook in everything. Let’s him ramble about Fang Fucker. Gives him all of his snacks. Let’s Jungkook take Yoongi’s favorite pens that write nice and smooth when Jungkook loses his own pens. 

As Yoongi opens his mouth and feels the sharp sting of his fangs gliding through his gums, he realizes that he told Jungkook the truth simply because it’s Jungkook. Because he wanted Jungkook to know. Because it makes Jungkook light up like a solar flare, clapping his hands as he grins at the two, sharpened points that help Yoongi puncture his prey and drink deeply from the artery. 

“How do you turn?”

“No.” Jungkook straightens and looks down the wide bridge of his nose at Yoongi, lips downturned. Yoongi’s fangs vanish and he glares. “I’m not telling you that, you’d just try and do it yourself.”

“I’m not suicidal.”

“Who said death was involved? Don’t fish for information, Jungkook.”

The boy at least has the decency to look chagrined. “Fine. I have questions.”

“I’m tired.”

“Do vampires sleep?”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, realizing he has opened himself to the world’s longest line of questioning. “In a way, yes. Not the way humans do.” 

“So like a resting trance.” 

“That’s…” Yoongi thinks about when he lays down, settling somewhere between waking dreams and fully functioning. The dreams aren’t like the dreams that he had when he was a human. They’re more like memories, flipping through like a scrapbook as he rests. “Yeah, actually. Pretty accurate.” 

Jungkook’s grin is wicked. “Learned that from Fang Fucker. I guess it’s pretty accurate after all, huh?”

“No.”

“Will you fuck me?”

If Yoongi was a creature that relied on breathing to live, the air would leave his lungs. He doesn’t gasp anymore, but he would now if he could, blinking two dark eyes up at Jungkook who is grinning, and who has something sharp and mischievous in his gaze. 

“What?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

Yoongi’s gums ache. “You suddenly find out I’m a vampire and want to fuck me?”

“What? Wait!” Jungkook lurches after Yoongi, who turns on his heel toward the door. He only stops because Jungkook asks. It’s like Jungkook’s word is his command, and Yoongi knows that he could leave. Could vanish from the apartment. And yet he doesn’t. “I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t… no.” 

“Then how did you mean it? You’re telling me you would ask that if I wasn’t a vampire?”

“No, but not because I don’t want to.” Yoongi cocks his head and Jungkook’s face flushes. He hides behind both of his hands and lets out an aggravated sound. “Ugh! I just, I got excited and it was the first thing I could think of and yeah, I do want to fuck you because sex with a vampire like - is it like the comic books? I would love to know.”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi says gently, but it goes unheard.

“But that’s totally not why I want to in general, hyung. Taehyung thinks that you have a crush on me, and it made me so nervous at first because I always thought you were so pretty and quiet and maybe a little bit scary, but now I realize that maybe you’re not scary, you’re just a vampire.”

Yoongi says Jungkook’s name again, but the boy is on a roll, ranting into his hands and hiding his embarrassment from Yoongi as best as he can. Yoongi is no longer irritated, though, as Jungkook continues mumbling and smelling like honeysuckle. 

“And I totally have a crush on you, which is why when I thought you were making fun of me I got so upset and had to get out of there. I didn’t want you to see me cry even though crying is totally okay, but you’re always so unemotional and I thought it would annoy you more. And then you’re all here like ‘I’m a vampire’ and it fried my brain and I don’t know? We’re in my apartment, so sex seems like-”

“Jungkook.” 

Jungkook looks up from where his face is buried in his palms. Eyes wide, innocent. Mouth parted, slick-shined with his spit. Yoongi’s eyes drop to Jungkook’s mouth. Wants to know if he tastes just as sweet as he smells. Wants to know what the shape of his mouth is like, wants to feel the soft and hard lines of Jungkook’s body hiding under the cotton of his shirt. 

Yoongi isn’t like Eddie in Fang Fucker, who kept trying to hide from the desire for Belle. Yoongi isn’t scared of himself. He knows what he’s capable of, he is good at control. He’s been alive long enough to have mastered himself, and he isn’t worried about snapping Jungkook’s neck or taking a bite. 

So Yoongi doesn’t fight some long-winded internal war. Doesn’t feel guilty when he slides toward Jungkook, letting his feet move him vampire-smooth. Jungkook sucks in a little bit of air. Watches how Yoongi settles up close to him, tilting his head up. 

Jungkook’s breath is warm and is as sweet as his blood smells. Jungkook shivers and Yoongi grins. This close, he can ount each and every one of Jungkook’s long, silky soft eyelashes. 

“You,” Yoong murmurs, voice low and soft. “Can fuck me, Jungkook. I will be doing none of the work.”

“Really?”

Yoongi looks down at Jungkook’s mouth again and hums, zeroing in on it. 

Jungkook wastes no time. Yoongi watches Jungkook close his eyes and lean in. He has a brief second to smile, to lean up into it, pushing onto his tiptoes to meet Jungkook’s eager mouth. Jungkook’s lips are soft soft, tasting faintly like cherry chapstick that he must have applied in the parking lot waiting for his car and a little bit like beer.

Yoongi doesn’t mind, humming delightly as Jungkook pulls Yoongi toward him. Yoongi lets him, Jungkook pressing their waists together as his hands loop around Yoongi’s back, holding him there. Jungkook is a messy kisser, but he’s eager and gentle, tongue licking at the seam of Yoongi’s mouth until Yoongi opens up.

Jungkook brushes his tongue gently across Yoongi’s teeth, feeling for the sharpness of fangs. Yoongi huffs in Jungkook’s mouth, pushing him slightly and making Jungkook stumble a few inches. Jungkook is shadowed in the dark of his living room, eyes half-lidded and mouth shining in Yoongi’s spit. 

“I’m not biting you.”

Jungkook grins, his tongue poking through his teeth as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Bet you want to though, huh? Wanna bite me, hyung?”

“I’m not one of your little fictional vampires,” Yoongi assures Jungkook, who pulls at Yoongi’s shirt to bring him closer. Their chests are pressed together, Yoongi looking up as Jungkook bends down to steal another sloppy, open mouth kiss. “I have control and I’m not worried about it.” 

“Control, huh?” Jungkook tugs Yoongi's hand. “I bet you have lots of stamina too.”

Yoongi feels like he’s walking on air when he follows Jungkook to his bedroom. He takes in multiple things at once, able to flick his gaze across the room and see all of the details of Jungkook’s life at the same time that Jungkook tugs on Yoongi’s sleeve, making a soft noise that indicates he wants Yoongi to move faster. 

Jungkook’s room has a boyish charm. His bed is pressed up against the wall, a single lamp over it with a stack of comics on the nightstand. His sheets smell clean, though vaguely of floral soap. There are comic panels pressed in glass and displayed in wooden frames over the bed: Spiderman, Scarlet Witch, Fang Fuckers.

Near the bathroom, there’s a meticulously organized bookcase, teeming with comic books and actual books. Yoongi sees the names flash by as Jungkook nudges Yoongi toward the bed and huffs when he realizes he can’t simply shove Yoongi onto the mattress. The vampire laughs and sits down as Jungkook sheds his jean jacket, letting it hit the floor. 

It pleases Yoongi that Jungkook’s room isn’t messy, though a little disheveled. There seems to be an organized chaos to it, to Jungkook. He likes that, the way that Jungkook is at the nexus of impossible spectrums. LIke now, when Jungkook looks shy and innocent as he drops to his knees in front of Yoongi, looking up at him through dark lashes. 

Jungkook’s hair curls so elegantly across his forehead. Yoongi reaches forward, carding his hands through the silk strands. It’s just as soft as he thought and he smiles, leaning down to catch Jungkook’s mouth again, tongues tangled and the wet smack of their kisses sending heat into Yoongi’s stomach, making his cock stir. 

Of course Jungkook can get Yoongi semi-hard by just kissing. But what really does it, is when Jungkook breaks from the kiss, a string of spit between them for a moment. Yoongi watches it break before his eyes zero in on Jungkook’s tattooed hands going for the button on Yoongi’s jeans.

“Wanna suck you off,” Jungkook admits, fingers working the zipper. Yoongi leans back on his arms, watching Jungkook with rapt attention.

He is so fucking beautiful. The ink on his arms is exquisite, moving in artistic whorls of mostly black art with some pieces of color splashed in. Yoongi thinks that the pair of them are a lot like Jungkook’s tattoos. Yoongi is the stark, unchanging black and Jungkook is the bright, splatter of color and life. 

Yoongi’s hands go to Jungkook’s arms, fingers tracing the color. Jungkook pauses trying to get Yoongi’s pants off, letting Yoongi feel him. Jungkook is so warm, vitality humming in his veins under paper-thin skin. Jungkook ducks forward, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s wrist, Jungkook’s mouth eager to place butterfly-soft kisses on Yoongi’s skin.

It makes Yoongi smile. He can’t remember the last time he was intimate with someone. It doesn’t matter. He lets Jungkook feel his skin. 

“You're warm,” Jungkook notes, turning his attention to tugging on Yoongi’s jeans. Yoongi lifts his hips, helping him pull them down his thighs and knees, fabric scraping. It feels so good, the heat of Jungkook’s hands, the taste of his excitement in the air. “Not cold at all.”

“We live between life and death,” Yoongi sighs, head tilting back as Jungkook rips off Yoongi’s shoes. Jungkook’s sweet scent mixes with the headiness of his arousal. Every inch of Yoongi’s skin is like an exposed wire, especially when Jungkook places open mouth kisses to Yoongi’s thighs, making him twitch. “We are neither entirely dead nor entirely alive. I adapt to the temperature around me.”

“Fascinating,” Jungkook mumbles as his mouth leaves wet stains, inching toward Yoongi’s briefs. 

Yoongi is throbbing. He feels light-headed and shaky when he lifts his head. Jungkook is eager between his legs, pressing his palms against Yoongi’s thighs to spread him open more, to give himself more room. Yoongi lets himself be pried open, watches with parted lips as Jungkook dips forward, licking at the damp spot on his briefs. 

A curse drips from Yoongi’s mouth and his lids flutter. He’s determined to watch Jungkook, slack-jawed as the shy little Jungkook Yoongi knows is replaced with an eager, hungry thing. Jungkook mouths at Yoongi’s cock over the fabric, making his hips lift from the bed, a moan falling out of his mouth. 

Jungkook looks up, mouth wet and eyes sparkling. “You sound pretty.”

“You look pretty.”

Yoongi smiles when Jungkook’s nose and cheeks turn cherry blossom pink. “Are vampires always so nice?”

“No.” Jungkook skims his hand up Yoongi’s thigh, skating over to grip Yoongi firmly, massaging through what suddenly feels like the world's thinnest fabric. Yoongi hisses between his teeth, eyes shutting as Jungkook teases him. “And you don’t want a mean vampire.”

“I don’t,” Jungkook agrees. “I want,” he continues slowly, pulling at the fabric of Yoongi’s briefs. “A sweet, gentle vampire. Who is very quiet and likes to read his books mysteriously. Who secretly does things around the office for everyone and- fuck you have a thick dick.”

Jungkook stumbles on his cute little monologue, making Yoongi laugh. It comes out closer to a growl, startling Jungkook. Yoongi’s cock bobs against his shirt, precum smearing on the dark fabric. The brown tip is aching for Jungkook’s mouth, inches away and panting.

“That was sweet.” 

Jungkook looks up at him, fingers digging into Yoongi’s thigh where he holds his legs open. “You’re sweet. You’re nice. And you…” Jungkook turns his face away, trying to hide that he is furiously blushing again. Yoongi can see it though, can make out every single detail on Jungkook’s face and it makes him melt. “Whatever, I’m going to suck your dick now.”

Laughter dies  in Yoongi’s throat, replaced by a deep groan that comes rumbling out of him as Jungkook licks the underside of Yoongi’s shaft, tongue flat and eager. Sparks slide up his back as he clutches the sheets. Jungkook mouths up the side of Yoongi’s cock, hand going to grip at the base, tongue laving, hungry, determined. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi whispers. Jungkook giggles, pulling Yoongi’s swollen tip toward his mouth. He licks around the head happily, Jungkook nearly humming in delight. 

Yoongi’s mind is blank. He watches, entranced and hips squirming as Jungkook takes Yoongi’s cock into his mouth proper, hollowing his cheeks and giving an experimental suck. Yoongi’s hips come off of the bed, and Jungkook whines, retracting his mouth with a wet sound as he blinks up at Yoongi. 

“No,” is all he mumbles in Yoongi’s general direction before he’s back on him, taking Yoongi into his mouth and down to the back of his throat. Yoongi doesn’t move his hips, anchored to the spot like Jungkook wants. 

“Holy shit!” Yoongi curses. 

He can tell Jungkook loves this. His throat twitches around Yoongi and his eyes water, looking up at the vampire as he pulls back a little. His tongue scrapes the sensitive underside of Yoongi’s dick and Yoongi thinks he might come just like this. 

Jungkook seems to lose himself in a messy, wet rhythm. He closes his eyes, lashline shining with unshed tears every time the crown of Yoongi’s cock kisses the back of Jungkook’s throat, feels the soft, dewy spot as Jungkook swallows Yoongi deep. 

Curses across many languages spill from Yoongi’s lips. He falls backward on the bed, moaning up toward the ceiling. Jungkook is loud, his ravenous mouth stretched tight around Yoongi, drool escaping the sides of taught lips and dripping down to Yoongi’s balls.

“Your fucking mouth,” Yoongi whispers, voice broken as he trembles under Jungkook’s ministrations. 

Jungkook pulls off Yoongi with a wet-pop. “Wanna fuck you.” He licks up Yoongi’s precum again. “Can I fuck you, hyung?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi has no reservations. Hei can protect Jungkook, from both Yoongi himself and anything else. There is no fear there, only want. Only desire that has been burning for three fucking years that he sat next to Jungkook, the cute boy who poured over his vampire comics.

The whisper of clothes is loud in the room. Jungkook presses himself against Yoongi, crawls on top of him and cages him in. His mouth is filled with the taste of Yoongi’s precum and his own unique taste, but Yoongi devours him, biting into Jungkook’s bottom lip, pulling back and letting Jungkook grind into him.

Jungkook is warm, like the sun is trapped underneath his skin. Yoongi hasn’t felt the warmth of human skin like this in so long. He leans into Jungkook, hands pressed on the smooth, strong planes of Jungkook’s back as the younger grabs lube from his nightstand and pops the cap open with ease. 

Cool, slick fingers prod at Yoongi’s tight rim and he lets out a rumble, drawing innocent eyes toward him. Yoongi grins and nips Jungkook’s mouth, wiggling his hips to chase Jungkook’s hesitant fingers. “Come on,” Yoongi urges, starving for it. Aching to be fucking filled, to have Jungkook closer. “Loosen hyung up.”

Jungkook whimpers, ever eager to follow instruction. He presses a finger in, sinking to the second knuckle and Yoongi sighs, head going slack as he lets Jungkook experiment, sliding his finger in and out gently. It feels good, but Yoongi wants more. Yoongi needs more. Hasn’t had this in years, hasn’t ever had Jungkook. 

“More.” 

It’s all Jungkook needs, growing confident and gently fucking into Yoongi’s tight walls with a set pace. Yoongi is spiraling. Feels like he can’t catch his breath, though he doesn’t need it. He vibrates at a new frequency as Jungkook slides in another digit, the wet squelch mixing with their moans. 

Yoongi pulls Jungkook’s mouth to his, teeth clacking, tongues uncoordinated, noses bumping together as Jungkook stretches Yoongi. It feels good, especially when Jungkook reaches that soft spot in Yoongi, making his stomach lurch and his feet dig into his bed. 

“There?” 

“There,” Yoongi agrees in high-keen. 

Determined, Jungkook gets after it. Busies his mouth with sucking Yoongi’s flesh raw, nipping, licking his way around the expanse of Yoongi’s throat. Jungkook seems to particularly favor the sensitive spot over Yoongi’s jugular and Yoongi laugh-moans when Jungkook’s teeth drag against where Yoongi’s pulse would be. 

“Fuck me,” Yoongi begs. “Just fuck me, I’m good.”

“Okay.” 

They’re a tangle of slick limbs. Yoongi tastes sweat on Jungkook’s skin, his tongue heavy in his mouth as Jungkook jostles him up his bed, pushing his thighs open, splaying him open butterfly-perfect. 

Jungkook’s eyes are soft and curious, looking down at where Yoongi lays marked and messy, pliant for Jungkook, eager hole gaping, cock weeping. Yoongi pulls at Jungkook’s hands. Makes a soft sound. Wants him, begs for him quietly. 

With a soft smirk, Jungkook fists his own cock a few times, pumping his thick, long length. Yoongi’s eyes follow the movement, chewing on his bottom lip, waiting and wanting. He knows is going to feel perfect, wants to feel the push and drag-

Jungkook’s tip catches the rim of Yoongi’s ass and he sighs. Digs his fingers into Jungkook’s skin and pulls. He is careful with his pressure, always regulating what he’s doing, never touching Jungkook hard enough to bruise. The smile on Jungkook’s face as he ducks his head to watch his cock sink into the heat of Yoongi is enough for Yoongi to know that Jungkook knows. Knows Yoongi has this under control. Knows that at any moment, Yoongi could take over. Could ruin Jungkook and leave him dripping and broken.

That’s not what Yoongi wants. He wants this. The pressure of Jungkook filling him up, tight squeeze, light burn, walls hugging and fluttering. He feels Jungkook deep, never ending, ceaseless. And then Jungkook’s tapered hips are pressed against Yoongi’s ass, stilling as Yoongi fights around the stretch.

“Come on,” Yoongi pants, a human habit that had slipped in between the distraction of Jungkook splitting him open. “Come on, Kook.”

Yoongi doesn’t know if it’s the way he whispers the plea or if it’s the nickname, but Jungkook sheds his hesitance. He presses Yoongi’s thighs to the mattress, putting his weight into him. It feels good, to have the heavy feeling of Jungkook on top of him, especially when he starts fucking Yoongi in earnest. 

The world turns to liquid. At least, that’s how it feels as Yoongi turns molten under Jungkook. The younger fucks Yoongi hard, face fixed in a snarl as he grabs at Yoongi’s thighs, fingers slipping on lube-slick skin. Yoongi’s eyes roll backward, letting Jungkook’s thrust lull him somewhere like a dream. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses. “You like being fucked like this, huh? Big dangerous vampire, split open by me, huh?”

“Yes.” It’s a raspy note stuck in Yoongi’s throat, so he nods. Babbles something else. He doesn’t know. 

With a huff of laughter, Jungkook pulls out. Yoongi’s eyes fly open, a protest on his lips, ready to snarl that he felt good, that he felt full. Jungkook cuts him off, flipping Yoongi over, handling him as though Jungkook were the predator here. 

Before Yoongi can think much, Jungkook is prying his ass cheeks apart, spitting right on his already wet hole. Yoongi keens and Jungkook chuckles behind him, sliding back in and fuck it feels so good. 

With a hand grabbing Yoongi’s hips to lift him, Jungkook powers into him, the snap of his hips fast and efficient. The sounds he makes puts Yoongi’s world on a spinning top, going round and round. Jungkook sounds so pretty, whining as he adjusts himself so he’s fucking deeper into Yoongi. 

Warmth blooms inside of Yoongi and he lets out a scream. Jungkook hits his prostate head on and it feels like he’s unraveling, pressing his face into the sheets and arching his back. He scrambles backwards, pushing himself onto Jungkook’s cock, desperate for more more more. 

Just as Yoongi starts to crest toward the peak of his orgasm, Jungkook shifts again. Yoongi growls and Jungkook ignores it entirely, pulling out of Yoongi with a wet mess and turning him around. He lifts Yoongi easily and the vampire loves it. Loves how Jungkook handles him, instructing Yoongi to loop his legs around his waist. Loves when he holds onto Jungkook’s shoulders, shining with sweat as Jungkook fucks up into him, his hands bounding Yoongi in his lap. 

It’s so deep that Yoongi thinks he might die. Perhaps one can kill a vampire after all. It wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, head sinking into Jungkook’s shoulder. The smell of honeysuckle flooding his senses. The feeling of Jungkook fucking him with everything he has. The soft feeling of Jungkook nosing Yoongi’s hair in contrast with the way he slams Yoongi down into his lap.

Overwhelmed, Yoongi comes suddenly. A snarl rips out of him and his fingers tighten a little, but not enough to do more than bruise. Not enough to hurt Jungkook - never hurt Jungkook. He shudders as Jungkook quickens his pace, chases his orgasm, driving Yoongi toward overstimulation. 

Yoongi squirms and squeals, fights Jungkook - but not really. Not in any way that tells Jungkook Yoongi is actually trying to get away, because they both know that he can. Jungkook laughs, pinning Yoongi down and sinking deep into the heart of him where he comes with a long groan, face dropping into Yoongi’s neck.

Yoongi feels the rough wetness of Jungkook’s tongue, licking a stripe up his neck. Despite himself, Yoongi laughs and rolls his eyes, feeling alive and brighter than ever.

“Beast,” he jests, slapping Jungkook’s side.

Jungkook sloppily kisses his way to Yoongi’s mouth, letting himself soften inside, not willing to pull out. Their mouths mingled together, not really kissing, not really not kissing. Just tangled tongues, sometimes just mouths pressed against one another. 

“So you like being handled, huh?” Jungkook asks, eyes fluttering open. Yoongi looks up at them. This close, he can see all the different shades of brown, layer after layer of shades. “Vampire likes being a pillow princess?” 

“And you like being rough and fast,” Yoongi shoots back. “Makes you feel like a predator, huh?” 

Jungkook’s nose goes red. Yoongi likes it when Jungkook’s face reddens. So full of blood and life and lust. “A little.” 

When Jungkook pulls out, it’s an audible, wet mess. Yoongi feels the spill out of him. Doesn’t care. Likes the debauchery of it. Plus, he’s distracted when Jungkook lays down next to him, head on Yoongi’s chest. He isn’t going anywhere, seeking the comfort of Yoongi’s arm as Jungkook’s heart rate begins to die down. 

“So,” Jungkook says airly. “I guess this makes me a fang fucker?”

Yoongi groans. “Not those fucking comic books.” 

“I have so many more things I wanna try, hyung.” Jungkook looks up at him, eyes glittering. “Give me ten minutes. I wanna see how long you can ride me.” 

Yoongi huffs, but there’s mirth in it. 

So Yoongi doesn’t hate Jeon Jungkook at all. Not one little bit. 

[spiderlilyserendipity]

The 57.1% Bad Idea 🔞

WC: 3602 (3.6K)

Genres: fluff, smut, E2L

Tags: slight corruption kink, oc is a virgin, dom! yoongi, sub! reader, dom/sub elements, no titles set for this so not proper bdsm but yk, big dick yoongi, praise!!!!!!, oc is a tomboy in the streets and a pillow princess in the sheets send tweet, i am going to hell for this but i blame yoongi’s sexiness for it, this was supposed to be a lot kinkier originally but i’m too soft for soft dom yoongi.

Warnings: tipsy (but consensual!) sex, protected sex, age difference in reader & yoongi (10 years), oc is 23, myg is 33.

You might be new to the industry, but you know when someone is fucking with you. 

Of course, you’ve heard all the rumours. How the legendary BTS are workaholics, working up to 18 hours a day when they first debuted. You get that, and to be honest, you respect it. But they’re not newly debuted kids anymore, damn it! It is 2026 already, 13 years since their debut, but all of the members are still grinding their damn gears like it’s day one. And fine, you can respect the dedication, but that doesn’t warrant the hell a certain Min Yoongi — also known as Producer Min — has been putting you through.

You don’t see the celebrity face to face due to his killer schedules, but you get many annoying emails from him ever since you started working as one of the new in-house producers. Redo this, this isn’t what I’m looking for, the members don’t like the key on this one, and over and over.

You let it slide the first 5 or so times, but it’s getting old now. You’re only 23 years old damn it, not an old man like that Min Yoongi guy must be, that all he does is sit and write music! You have a life.

But no one cares because this is the oh so great BTS you have to serve hand and foot.

You’re out for dinner with your friends when Min Yoongi emails you at 8pm. Who is even logged into their work email that late? This multi-millionaire, apparently.

You sigh, putting down your utensils to pick up your phone. You brace yourself for another email where Yoongi tells you that you don’t meet his high standards. Go figure. 

Hello Miss Y/L/N. I looked at your arrangement, but it still needs some cleaning up. 

If you recall, this is the 5th email I have sent you and we are still not communicating. Can you call me instead?

You want to bang your head against a wall. It is a Friday night. Who the hell wants to call a man 10 years their senior and be lectured on a Friday night?

“Y/N, where are you going?” Your friends ask.

“To deal with an asshole named Min Yoongi.”

“Min Yoongi?!?” Your friend gasps. You sigh internally. You forget some of your friends are ARMYs, hence why you never complain about how annoying Min Yoongi is to them. “Did he give you his number? Are you going to see him? Can I get a—”

“Yes I have his number. I don’t know if I have to see him tonight. And no, I won’t get you a signed album.” You answer, reading your friend’s mind. Your other friends all laugh as Sunmi looks disappointed. You sigh, smiling at her. “Work is work. I love you but sorry. I gotta go.”

Understanding work, your friends let you go.

You get out of the restaurant, still cursing Yoongi. You get in your car and dial the number Yoongi gave you. 

“Hello?” Yoongi picks up on the third ring. You scowl. As if he didn’t know I was gonna call.

You plaster your work smile on, knowing you’re really fucked if you piss Min Yoongi off. You might not like the guy, but a girl has bills to pay. “Hello Producer Min. It’s me, Y/N.”

“Producer Y/L/N.” Yoongi corrects you, and you roll your eyes. “Where are you at the moment?”

“I’m out right now with my friends.” You set boundaries firmly. “I am not at work, but if you can show me what you meant, I will fix up the arrangement accordingly.”

Yoongi scoffs. Your blood boils. “How will you know what I mean unless you have your laptop out? You’re awfully cocky for a new hire.”

You clench the steering wheel tight with one hand. “I am not working at the moment, Producer Min. It is 8 pm.”

Yoongi laughs at you. Like, actually laughs. “Do you know we need this song recorded by Wednesday? If I don’t have a clean instrumental, how is my team supposed to record it?”

There it is, the inevitable scolding. You pull down the little fold-away sun blocker/mirror thing in your car and check your makeup. You got dressed up cute tonight, a white floral dress and light pink eyeshadow and matching pink lipstick. Your hair is even styled back in a cute half up half down hairstyle. You don’t usually look so girly, preferring comfortable clothes like sweats and tshirts, though you respect girls who put in that effort every day. But for you, the reason is your friend from college, Nate, is stopping by later tonight. You had always had a crush on him since you sat in lectures together.

You hate the idea of Yoongi being the one to see you so cute and especially hate having a meeting with him instead of getting to see Nate tonight.

But a girl has bills to pay. “What would you like me to do?” You ask.

“I have an at-home studio that I work in on the weekends. Stop by just for thirty minutes and then go back to your friends.”

You roll your eyes. You already told your friends goodbye. Besides, it would be weird to just butt back in again after leaving. You close the mirror and fold it up. Guess your only date tonight is Min Yoongi. “Please text me your address. I will be there soon.”

🎀🎀🎀

You hate the look on Min Yoongi’s face when you walk up to him in the underground parking lot. You hate rich people and their fancy apartments. It took you forever to convince the security guard in the front that yes, you were a guest of Min Yoongi despite your run down car from college. And then, when you get through that hassle, you find Yoongi waiting at the elevator with a card in hand to swipe you in. 

If you were gonna be nice, you could’ve told the security guard I was coming. You frown, bowing hello. 

“I should’ve told the security guard you were coming, huh?” Yoongi grins at you, tapping the card to get inside. You jolt in surprise, wondering if this mean producer is also a mind-reader. You eye him suspiciously as you get in the elevator. It’s a fancy elevator with luxurious looking buttons and the logo of the fancy apartment complex this building is in. But you’re more nervous about the fact that Yoongi just read your mind.

Seeing you look shocked, Yoongi presses the button for the 7th floor. “I saw you showing your work ID to the security guard at the front.” He says. You clench your teeth. If he knew, why not help you? Damn rich people.

You follow Yoongi when the doors open on the 7th floor. The apartment hall looks kind of like a fancy hotel until you get to Yoongi’s door and he taps his own passcode to get in. 

The house is deceivingly large for an apartment, all black and white coloured vases, art on the walls, and black marble floors that are definitely worth more than your life savings. You follow Yoongi, walking on eggshells already. He leads you past a fancy living room with white sofas and an all black kitchen and upstairs to the second floor. With his back to you, you openly marvel at how cool everything is. You guess being a crazy workaholic does pay out for some people. 

🎀🎀🎀

It’s nearing midnight now and you’re still stuck here with Yoongi. The work is finally done, but at the cost of your sanity and Yoongi’s incessant nagging.

Feeling your irritation, Yoongi makes the rare attempt at a peace offering. “Should we have a glass of whiskey now that we’re done working?”

Tired but unable to resist the temptation of some good alcohol, you take up his offer. “Sure.”

Yoongi steps away from his computer, walking away down the hall to the kitchen. In a few minutes, he returns with a bottle of alcohol and two small glasses. “It’s 57.1% alcohol. Can you drink that strong?” He asks, arching a brow. Your ego flairs. 

“Yes.” You reply confidently, knowing good and well you’re a lightweight. You let him pour you a glass, then take a sip. As expected, it burns, and not particularly in a good way.

“Who are you all dolled up for anyway; is it a guy you like?” Yoongi asks curiously.

“No, that guy has a girlfriend.” You admit, not sure why you’re having this conversation with Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns. “So? Can’t you be pretty for yourself?”

You sigh. “I can, but it’s still disappointing. I wanted to be his really bad.” You mumble.

“...In...Be his in what way?”

You drink down the rest of the alcohol, shocking Yoongi, who stares at you. You muster up your courage, feeling the alcohol already starting to sink in. “What do you mean, exactly?”

Yoongi clears his throat, continuing to work. “Never mind.”

“I wanted to date him.” You admit, sober enough to know you’ll regret saying this tomorrow but tipsy enough to not care at this moment. “I wanted to get close to him and maybe… I don’t know.”

“Maybe what?” Yoongi pushes you.

You look down at your phone. “Maybe...do that with him.”

Yoongi is frowning at you now. “You mean sex?” You fluster so bad at the word you drop your phone, right into a pile of cables under Yoongi’s desk.

You sigh loudly, no longer hiding how frustrated you are. You get out of your chair and onto your knees, lowering your head to look around for your phone. Just your luck, it’s stuck in a pile of wires. 

Noticing you fumble with it, Yoongi’s legs turn toward you. “Need some help with that?”

You look up as much as you can from under the table. You find yourself looking right into Min Yoongi’s piercing black eyes. They’re dark from a hazy look in them and the shadows cast by his bangs. You have only just realized you’re sitting between his legs. When Yoongi smirks at you, you bang your head on the underside of the desk. Yoongi laughs under his breath at you, but doesn’t move. 

You grab your phone and push up on Yoongi’s knee to stand. But just your luck, you slip on your stockings. 

Before you can fall flat on your face, a pair of large hands wrap around your waist and pull you into Yoongi’s lap. You let out a noise as you fall, but Yoongi is unfazed as you fall against him. His strong arms wrap around your back, holding you sideways on top of him. 

“S-Sorry.” You blurt immediately, turning away from his face. Too close! 

You try to get up, but Yoongi’s arms tighten around you. “What are you sorry for Y/N?” He asks in a low, deep voice. A shiver runs down your spine at how he’s looking at you. Then, he smirks. “Drunk from just one sip of my whiskey?”

You shake your head, trying to get up again. You absentmindedly place a hand on Yoongi’s chest to get up, but freeze when you feel his strong muscles through your shirt. A little tipsy, you’re not very quick-minded and linger a moment. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“Producer Min…” You whisper, swallowing audibly. “I think I need to go home.”

“Makes sense since it’s late. But I drank so I can’t drive you.”

“I can get a cab.” You say, looking at your hand on his chest. Was his chest always that wide and strong? You blush. 

“What about your car? You will have to leave it here if you catch a cab. Won’t you need that for work on Monday?”

You pout. “Can’t I come get it later?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Guest parking isn’t allowed for more than 12 hours. It’ll get towed if you leave it here”

You frown. “Meanie.”

Yoongi grins at how cute you look. “Sorry doll, I didn’t make the rules.”

You sigh. You don’t know who to call to come get you either. Most of your friends are probably drunk by now since it’s Friday night, and it’s not like you can tell your parents to pick you up drunk from a guy’s house at midnight.

“...Producer Min.” You start hesitantly. Yoongi continues grinning at you, which is oddly scarier than if he was frowning. “C-Could I borrow a room tonight?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows lift. “You’re the youngest producer in our company and I’m the most senior artist. Do you think you’re allowed to do that?”

You wriggle in Yoongi’s lap in frustration, making him tighten his hold on you. His smile falls away to a dark look. “Behave.” Yoongi says, stirring something inside of you. 

“I know I’m not allowed but it’s not my fault! You’re the one that made me come here.”

“You’re the one that didn’t do a good job in the first place.” Yoongi rebuttals. 

You let out a whine in frustration. “Yoongi! Can’t you ever be nice to me? I did my best, I really did!” You don’t know why the hell Min Yoongi’s standards are so high in the first place, you always did amazing on your assignments when you majored in music!

“Yoongi?” Yoongi repeats. He leans in, making you flush and look away. As you bury your head in his shoulder, he whispers in your ear. “Is that what behaving looks like, doll?”

“Ugh, just tell me if I can borrow the room!” You demand but Yoongi doesn’t entertain you at all.

“Do you know what I think this looks like?” Yoongi’s low voice sends chills all over your body. His hands slowly rub circles in unison, one on the back of your thighs and the other on your lower back. You stay completely still, although you’re not sure why, anticipating what he is going to say. “I think you’re acting up because I got in the way of you losing your virginity tonight.”

You gasp at how Yoongi reads your mind again. You hadn’t told anyone that, not even your best friend but somehow Yoongi knew. Yes, in your ideal case, Nate would return your feelings and you could hook up tonight. It’s not like you’re waiting for marriage, just that you’ve never liked a guy enough to do it yet. 

So why are the insides of your thighs so sticky just from Min Yoongi(the man you hate)’s words?

You whimper against the side of Yoongi’s neck when his hand on the back of your thigh brushes close to the space between your thighs. If he presses any closer to your core, he would feel how wet you are. 

“Is that true, Y/N?” Yoongi whispers, dangerously sweet. You whine again as he pulls one of your bra straps through the material of your dress and lets it snap against your back. “Give me an answer.”

“Y-Yes. I wanted to lose my virginity tonight.” You admit, embarrassed at how breathless you are.

“Should I make up for it then?” Yoongi asks. 

You gasp. You push off and this time Yoongi lets you. You stand up, blushing. 

Yoongi stands slowly, no longer cheeky. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes sincerely. He looks away. “I-It must’ve been the whiskey. God, what am I doing? You're ten years younger than me. Here, let me call you a driver.” He rambles, pulling out his cellphone. 

You put a hand on his wrist, startled by his sharp change in attitude. Yoongi stills under your touch. He looks at you with worry. “Do you want to go home? Or you can borrow my room. I-I mean the extra one. It has a lock on the door, don’t worry.” Yoongi flusters, talking faster now.

“Y--Min PD.” You say, finally making him look at you. “It’s okay.”

Yoongi still shakes his head. “No, I was...I was overconfident. And I crossed a professional boundary tonight. It’s not okay, and you don’t need to forgive me for making you uncomfortable--”

You silence him with a kiss.

Yoongi pauses, then pulls away from the kiss. He holds you at arms length. “Y/N.” He says it extremely seriously. “What did that just mean?”

You look down. “...Isn’t that what I should do to s-start us?”

Yoongi cups your face and makes you look at him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said something so insensitive. Personally, I don’t really think virginity is a thing, but if it matters to you then it matters. I won’t force you.”

“Yoongi, I want to.” You say sincerely. Yoongi blushes. “I haven’t been waiting for anyone special or anything. It’s… I never decided to go all the way.”

Yoongi hesitates. “Are you sure?”

You nod. Yoongi sighs in relief. “Thank god. I was going crazy from how pretty you look.” He admits, before leaning in to kiss you senseless. 

You shiver at his touch, pulling him in closer.

“Like that, baby?” Yoongi kisses your neck. You whine and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Yes, yes.” You answer, and he scoops you up into his arms, leading you towards his bedroom.

“Good.” Yoongi chuckles. He lays you down gently like a bride, then begins looking for a condom in his bedside drawer.

“W-What about you?” You ask.

Yoongi returns with the condom and a bottle of lube beside him, peering at you curiously. You flush at the sight of his hard cock which he easily slides a large condom on top of without breaking eye contact with you. “What do you mean?”

“A-Are you okay?” You ask, not sure how to sexily reaffirm consent. Yoongi laughs, really laughs. He leans down and presses a delicate kiss to your forehead.

“Yes sweetheart.” He chuckles. 

When you wriggle under him, his gaze darkens. “Behave.” He whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. You yelp, making him laugh again as he rubs his hands up and down your sides.

He works three fingers inside you again, checking that you’re not still tense before he presses the head of his cock to your entrance. You whimper at the stretch, making Yoongi hesitate. “Need more time, doll?” he asks, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“N-No.” You reply, squeezing your eyes shut. Slowly, Yoongi enters inch by inch until he’s in to the hilt. You grip his shoulders, waiting for the slight burn to fade. Yoongi does a great job warming you up, but his cock is just a bit too big for you to take comfortably. “Y-Yoongi.”

Yoongi lets out a breathy moan. “Yes baby?” He asks. 

“F-Feels so full.” You breathe out, making Yoongi grip your hips tighter.

“Yeah baby? Feel full of me?” He urges you on, voice deep and husky from arousal. He waits until you’re comfortable, looking up at him with hazy eyes to start moving. He starts slow, making you arch up but he holds you down firmly. “Want me to use you up properly since it’s your first time, huh? That’s why you keep acting like a brat.” He punctuates the word with a deep thrust that has you scrambling for purchase in the sheets.

You whine and Yoongi finally has enough of it. He takes both of your hands in one of his and pins them above your head. He picks up his pace, eyes never looking away from your body. He watches you strain to arch up against his hold with a cocky smile, before pressing kisses to your breasts. “Good girl.” he praises when you stop fighting for control, dissolving completely into a pile of whimpers. “So good. So fucking wet.” Yoongi growls, picking up his pace.

“Y-Yoongi!” You cry out and he silences you with a hot, powerful kiss. 

“I know, baby.” He reassures, unspoken promise in his voice. “I’m here.” 

“Y-Yoongi.” You warn a few moments later, and Yoongi gives your cheek a kiss.

“Trust me, baby. I’ll let you come.” He promises, and you nod, believing him.

Finally, Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, and he reaches between your legs and rubs your clit. He pulls you flush against him when you come, trembling from how good it was.

“Good girl. So sweet for me.” He praises, peppering your face with kisses. You wrap your arms around his middle and sigh in satisfaction.

The two of you lay there like that for an indefinite time, until you speak up. “Yoongi?”

“Yes, baby?” He asks, rubbing the back of your head. 

“Am I gonna get fired for this?”

Yoongi pulls back and looks at you. “Why would you get fired for us dating?”

You’re surprised. “We’re dating?”

Yoongi blushes. “I mean, unless you don’t want to. Either way, no one will find out because it’s just between—”

“Can we take it slow? My head is spinning right now.” You giggle. Yoongi smiles warmly at you.

“Of course. But first let me clean you up.” He says, and you let him carry you to the bathroom.

In the shower, Yoongi once again proves he is true to his word. He cleans you up and changes the bedsheets. While he’s changing them, he brings you a cup of tea while you wait and kisses your forehead. 

“Yoongi, have you had a crush on me this whole time?” You ask, once situated in bed again.

“Haven’t you?” 

You think about it, then grin. “I guess I just needed some liquid courage to realize it.”

Yoongi snorts, pulling you in closer. “That was the best purchase of my life.”

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 13

chapter 24:

1. sirius 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 james being codependent af

2. ooo reg you’re so close babes. think about that just a little more. he realizes he cares about how james treats him and feels about him. reg just almost gets it

3. “He thinks the arena makes everyone a bad person while they're here. The only exception to the rule is James. He's the only person who could drag himself through all of this filth and cruelty and still hold onto his shine.”

4. ☺️ this “without hesitation” line is gonna bite us in the ass, isn’t it?

5. they’re talking about what their life without tragedy would have looked like. and damn. i’m not okay. their life would have been so beautiful

6. “"In that life, I do," Regulus whispers. "I let you do whatever you want, and when you want to dance, we dance."”

i’m NASTY sobbing over this line. like, snot coming out of my nose sobbing

7. “Regulus said James was his first love, didn't he? James would give anything to be his last.” 😀😀😀 holy shit that hurts

8. that nightmare was VILE

9. god, reg was practically sobbing to hold james’ hand. why is the world cruel to them??

10. 😐 i am unamused. another fucking spider

11. “"Have a go at me. Don't thank me or anything. It's always you're so stupid, James; it's never you looked so sexy and heroic while saving everyone from the murderous spider, James."” PFFFFFTTTT

12. it hurts to read it, but i also have always known that if reg wasn’t called into the hunger games, james would have died for someone else. like he said, either peter or vanity

13. god, peter’s story line and character fucking hurts. his family was mathias, irene, vanity, james, and even reg. this hurts like hell

14. NOOO PETER!!!!!

15. THEY MADE IT!!! THEY SURVIVED! THE GAMES ARE OVER!! THANK GOD!!

16. 😀😧 the rule change is REVOKED??? IM ABOUT TO LOSE MY FUCKING SHIT!! IF I WAS IN THIS UNIVERSE, ID PERSONALLY BE THROWING HANDS WITH SLUGHORN!! I BET SIRIUS HAS TO BE PHYSICALLY RESTRAINED!!

17. “"You're hesitating, love," James says softly.”

SCREEEEEEEEEEECHH

18. “"Axus got me on their way into the water. At least it was your dagger, I suppose," James says with a weary chuckle, his throat bobbing on a harsh swallow. His mouth quirks up a bit at the corner, gentle and lovely. "Maybe this makes me insane, but if I'm honest, I wish it had been you."”

oh no, make no mistake james. this very much does make you insane

19. and james is compared to the fucking sun going down again. i- i’m not okay

20. i need therapy for my trust issues. i trusted my ex best freind who outed me. i trusted my old roommate who i recently found out had a notes app list of everything she didn’t like about me this year. and most importantly, i trusted zar. i trusted that this fic wouldn’t do this to me.