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promptthebear · 1 year ago

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I'm so excited to read your easter askbox game 💞 no pressure but could I please request🐰4, with Tyrion Lannister? 😉 Also, you are one of my absolute favourite game of thrones writers, I hope you are feeling better! 💖 😄

Hello! This is v late, but hopefully you enjoy it all the same! Thank you so much for your kind words, you've got me blushing honestly! I'm doing much better now, and ended up being able to go see my family around the end of April to have a "Easter" dinner of sorts, and I'm supposed to see them again this weekend!

Easter Askbox Event 2023- Tyrion Lannister x Reader

Prompt: “Let’s just kiss and see where it takes us.”

TW: Mentions of drinking/drunkeness, a little bit of dub con between some of the characters, reader!character is tricked into kissing someone, some canon typical misogyny. 2nd person, reader referred to as "you", fem!reader. If I miss anything let me know!

A/N: This is set somewhere in the third book, but like if you squint. Idk, it's a bonfire party and I just wanted everyone to be there, once again I don't give a fuck about canon.

Drinking had been Tyrion’s idea. The game had been Jamie’s.

“It’s simple” he said, with a wide grin “You spin the bottle, and whoever the spout end points to either has to kiss you, tell you a secret or accompany you to that corpse of trees over there. The choice is yours to make. If they forfeit your decision, then you both take a drink.”

You regarded the knight uncertainly, not trusting the glint in his eye or the knowing glance he exchanged with Tyrion. When the two of them were scheming, somehow you always ended up being the one in trouble.

“It’s an amusing enough diversion” Cersi’s tones were as cool and elegant as always despite the bottle and a half of white wine you’d watched her consume moments before. “Unless anyone wishes to protest?”

This was directed at you, with a gaze so sharp you could almost feel it cut against your cheek. You gulped, and took a small sip of your watered down ale before shaking your head. Those around you did the same, regardless of their true thoughts on the matter. An evening of mild discomfort or embarrassment was nothing against the wrath of the Queen.

Since the whole thing was Jamie’s suggestion, he went first. He spun the bottle with an easy sort of confidence, as though he couldn’t give a shit where it ended up. The way the firelight cast shadows upon his skin made your breath catch in your throat. As one of Cersi’s ladies, you only knew the man in passing, but there was no denying he was handsome. A kiss from him would make you the envy of many maidens across the kingdom, provided that was all he wanted. While members of the kingsguard swore vows prohibiting them to father children, Jamie also never really struck you as the type to be mindful of any rules but his own.

A series of hoots and jeers went around the circle when the bottle’s smooth arc finally reached it’s end…pointing at none other than Brienne of Tarth. The maid blushed crimson, her wide scowl doing few favours for her already homely face. Jamie seemed to smile even wider just to spite her, pushing himself to his knees so he could lean across the circle to reach her.

“Well, my fair lady” he proclaimed, clearly taking some joy from Brienne’s obvious discomfort “I shall give you a kiss, for it is like to be the only one you’ll ever have!”

Brienne seemed as though she was going to protest, but Jamie was too quick. Before she could react, Jamie had grabbed hold of the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to meet his. Brienne wriggled free in seconds, redder than before and clearly furious. She lashed blindly out at Jamie, the flat of her palm making contact with his chest in a shove that knocked him back on his ass. The knight roared with laughter, head thrown back and chest heaving. The crowd around you did the same, happy not to be the butt of the joke.

“Fool!” Brienne managed to sputter out, before rising to her feet and turning to leave. She stormed off without a glance back, most likely too embarrassed to even consider it. You made to follow her, knowing Jamie had been much too cruel to the poor girl, but another glare from Cersi kept you seated on the grass.

As the evening went on and the moon rose, kisses and bawdy comments began to flow as freely amongst the group as the wine. The bottle had landed on you more than once, though those on its receiving end had not asked much of you. Sansa Stark had blushed prettily when you’d kissed her on the forehead, though more likely from the stout red Tyrion had poured her rather than anything else.

Bronn of Blackwater had also asked for a kiss, and then turned his head at the last second so you caught his mouth instead of his cheek as you had planned. He’d been much rougher with you than you’d liked, biting at your lips and forcing them open with his tongue before you managed to get free of him. Those spectating seemed to love this as much as they had Brienne’s torment, cheering for Bronn and admonishing you when you’d slapped him for his insolence.

“Well, now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings” the sellsword said, though his broad grin seemed to suggest he wasn’t hurt in the least. You were grateful when a maid with Tully hair and brazen eyes asked him to accompany her into the woods. Based on the way they’d been looking at each other, they were not like to return any time soon, which at least saved you from being paired off with Bronn again.

When Oberyn Martell’s turn came around, you found yourself staring at him down the bottle’s end. Immediately, your heart went to your throat and you held your cup in a white knuckled grip, the forfeit waiting on your tongue no matter his request. It was not that you feared the man, so much as the rumours of his prowess. A thousand lifetimes of lovers would not have prepared you for even an hour in his company.

“Tell us a secret, pretty one.”

He, and the woman tucked beneath his arm, stared at you with matching pairs of dark, shining eyes. They were almost snakelike in appearance, which may have been why the couple had such a hypnotic effect on you. Your mouth seemed to open of its own accord, divulging something you swore you would tell no other but your future husband.

“I’m still a maiden.”

A wave of quiet, yet excited whispers, rose and fell amongst the group like the soft hush of wind through leaves. Until now, you had not been worthy of any special attention. You were nothing more to these people than the Queen’s pet, a lady from a minor house who got lucky enough to curry her Majesty’s favour this week. Your confession, however, had changed all that. You were now a conquest, something to be sought after and coveted simply because you had yet to be spoiled by anyone else.

You felt your cheeks grow hot, and you ducked your head down, trying to hide from the hungry eyes that watched you with much anticipation. You knew that it would not be long before someone tried to steal you away into the woods, whether you wanted to go with them or not.

Thankfully, Jamie’s next turn drew some of the focus away from you. The knight had given and taken his fair share of kisses throughout the evening, and each one had provided plenty of amusement for the increasingly drunken crowd. You could almost feel the group holding its breath as the bottle spun in the dirt, nearly writhing in anticipation at the possibilities to come.

Much to everyone’s shock and delight, the bottle’s tip finally came to rest in front of Tyrion. The small man immediately reached for his goblet, expecting a forfeit when Jamie suddenly raised his hand.

“Come now, my dear brother, it would be a poor evening for everyone if you were denied a bit of sport. Save your wine, for I have other designs in mind for you.”

“Surely you do not wish to take me into the woods, Jamie?”

Tyrion’s voice was sardonic as ever, prompting the crowd to erupt in gales of laughter. You felt a small smile playing about your lips, which you hid by taking another sip of your drink. You had always found Tyrion to be a source of mirth, though now that he was married, you didn’t think it would be proper to openly laugh at his gybes any longer.

“Unfortunately not, darling Tyrion, you are far too handsome for my tastes. However, since you have yet to capture the maidenhead of your young wife, perhaps you will have better luck with this sweet girl here.”

Before you could protest, rough hands were grabbing at your dress, hauling you ungracefully to your feet and shoving you in Tyrion’s general direction. For a moment, you were reminded of the bedding at Cersi’s wedding, and at the thought of what followed, you felt bile began to rise in your throat.

“Jamie, you’re taking things too far!”

If anyone was of like mind with Tyrion, they kept it to themselves. The two of you were half pushed, half drug from the circle of party-goers and sent towards the trees. Now ousted from the glow of the firelight, your eyes struggled to pierce the gloom ahead. You lurched slightly forward, trying your best to escape the hooting and ribald calls that followed, when the toe of your shoe caught a small divot in the path. You stumbled, reaching out to break your fall, only to be stopped by a pair of stout hands that caught your waist.

You glanced over your shoulder, and were met with a pair of mismatched eyes that seemed to almost gleam in the flicker of the distant flames.

“Are you alright, sweetling?”

There was nothing but concern in Tyrion’s voice, and yet the pet name made you blush.

“I am fine, my lord, thanks to your quick thinking.”

Tyrion smiled, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He’d been part of your life in some way or another since you’d started working for Cersi, but your contact with him had been nothing more than the expected politeness between an employer and servant. You’d never been close to him, not like this.

The sound of someone shouting his name made Tyrion release you from his grasp and turn back towards the fire. Immediately, the smile he’d given you fell and was replaced by a disapproving scowl. It was difficult to say for certain among the drunken racket, but Jamie seemed to be the one calling for his brother. Whatever he said and whatever lewd gestures accompanied it only seemed to garner further disgust from Tyrion, who let out a derisive snort and jerked his head back in your direction.

“Idiots, all of them.” he held his hand out to you, palm up “Come. We won’t know peace until we leave their sight, at least for a little while.”

The walk to the woods was silent, and more than a little tense. You clung to Tyrion’s hand, the warmth of his skin pressing against yours doing nothing to calm your fluttering heart and shaky breaths. Eventually, you came to a small clearing, which was ringed with tall birch trees and dappled in silvery moonlight that played amongst their leaves. From here, the fire was only a faint glimmer in the distance, the voices of the party members lost among the other night sounds. It would have been almost peaceful, until you remembered why you’d been brought here in the first place.

“I beg you, do not dishonour me, my lord.”

The words slipped from your lips before you really knew what you were saying. Immediately, your cheeks began to burn with a combination of shame and guilt. How could you have been so stupid? Tyrion had been nothing but kind to you ever since you’d met him, and yet here you were, behaving as though the rumours about him were true.

Thankfully, however, Tyrion did not seem the least bit bothered by your comment. Instead, he let forth a soft chuckle and released your hand. You watched him walk over to a patch of grass at the centre of the trees and lie down with his back beneath him. When you didn’t follow, he turned his head to face you, and patted the empty space next to him.

“I will not harm you, darling. All I want is some pleasant company, for a short while at least. There is so little of it in my life.”

You did as he asked, and went to lay beside him. The grass was cool and refreshing beneath you, a welcome distraction from the heat of Tyrion’s body so very close to yours. In spite of his reassurance, you could still feel the bundle of nerves twisting away inside your gut. Everything you had been taught told you this was wrong.

You were a lady, you had no business being alone, in the dark with a man who was married to someone else. Anyone else in your stead would have run off if only for the sake of her reputation, and yet, here you were. Perhaps this thing that writhed and wriggled in the pit of your stomach wasn’t fear…but rather excitement. But excitement for what? Tyrion already said he had no intentions of touching you…even if you found yourself wanting him to.

A glance at the sky above finally pulled you free from your swirling thoughts. It was a warm, clear night, with nary a cloud to hide the moon or the stars. And what stars they were. It seemed as though each constellation was on display, especially for you. You stared in awe, mesmerized by the way they seemed to dance and shimmer against a blue velvet sky.

“Beautiful.”

You turned your head to the side, preparing to agree with Tyrion, when you realized he was looking at you instead of upwards. You tried to remember the last time anyone had given you a compliment like that, and fell short. The only time anyone spoke to you in such a fashion was because they either wanted something, or they were teasing. The way Tyrion said it, however, made you almost believe he meant it.

“Thank you my lord, but I am not worthy of your praise. If you’ll pardon my saying so, it is really Lady Sansa who should-”

“She doesn’t want to hear that from me.”

The hard edge that crept into his voice made your eyebrows jump upwards.

“So, all of Ser Jamie’s talk?”

Tyrion sighed, then grasped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as though the conversation was paining him.

“I’m sorry to say my beloved brother was telling the truth, for once. Sansa had no desire to be my wife any more than I did to be her husband, and yet that didn’t seem to matter the least bit to anyone when we were wed. The poor girl has made it clear she does not want me to touch her, and I’ve respected her wishes. In fact, we both agreed that it was probably better for the other if each of us took a lover and remained married in title only. I do believe she’s had more luck than I have in that aspect, actually. Young Pod seems very keen on-”

He stopped, suddenly, as though he remembered he was divulging all this to little better than a stranger. You turned onto your side, trying to see Tyrion properly before you reached for him in the almost darkness. He watched, motionless, as you brought a hand up and stroked his cheek. His beard was softer than you expected beneath your fingers, given its untamed appearance.

“Tyrion…if I…that is to say we…”

Try as you might, you couldn’t keep your voice from trembling slightly. You hoped Tyrion understood, even though you were making a mess of things. You couldn’t make the world kinder, or make him taller or undo his Mummer’s farce of a marriage. You weren’t Sansa Stark, beautiful, highborn Sansa Stark who refused to see what a gift she’d been given. But perhaps offering yourself in her stead would be enough.

Thankfully, Tyrion seemed to know what you were getting at. He gently took hold of your hand that had cradled his cheek and pressed his lips against your palm. You gasped, softly, amazed at just how much reverence could be put into one kiss, as though he had been waiting to do it for ages. He continued to trail his mouth down the inside of your wrist, pausing between each kiss as though waiting for you to protest.

When no protest came, he tugged you closer, until your foreheads were almost touching. You could smell the wine on his breath, though that wasn’t why you were feeling drunk.

“If you don’t want this, tell me no, before I break my own heart.”

You swallowed, hard. No was the last thing you ever would’ve said, but you weren’t entirely certain you were ready for yes, either. What you wanted and what your body could handle in the course of one night were unfortunately two very different things.

“I want this. I want you only…”

You ducked your head, cheeks burning, and tried to hide from that piercing gaze. He’d been there when you’d confessed to your innocence, and yet you wished, not for the first time, that you had more to offer him. But the words wouldn’t come. Your heart had leapt into your throat and was holding your tongue for ransom and making you look more the fool with each passing moment.

“Sweetling, look at me.”

You did as you were asked, though it was agonizing to finally bring your eyes to meet his. When you did, you all but melted. The expression on Tyrion’s face was one you had never seen before, though it suited him very well. He looked…softer, and happier than he usually did. You realized that from here on, you’d do anything he asked if only he kept looking at you like that.

“Let’s just kiss and see where it takes us.”

#easter askbox event #tyrion x reader #tyrion x you #tyrion lannister #got imagines

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ldknightshade · 8 months ago

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This is the cube anon. I am sorry for my presence in your box here, I know people would like me gone. However since you are still archiving the events, I want to share with you what I sent to glassguillotine, who told me to kill myself. Is that okay? I said "Hello, it is Toki Cube anon. I wanted to apologize for the hurt I've caused this community and especially you. I know you've said in discord I ruined your birthday and I am deeply sorry. That said it hurts me that you would tell me to kill myself. I mean no harm and no hurt for anyone with my requests, but I have not done more than leave a like on any of the art because I fear people want to hurt me. I do not know why everyone assumes I wanted the pictures to be sexually explicit, I did not. I am fine with all the jokes, they are funny. What bothers me is that people are saying I am akin to a sexual predator and am wishing I hurt or end my life. That is very painful to see. I meant you no harm and I am truly sorry for it. Please do not look for me as I will be remaking my accounts free of this anyway. But not free of Toki as I need him for my comfort in life. I am sorry again and thank you."

I know this may go unanswered and ignored and I may still be seen as a parasite to the community but I simply wish my voice to be heard and be known I mean no harm for anyone despite what is being said. I will not be back again most probably.

Oscillating fronters rn, so we're just gonna colorcode so everyone's two cents makes it to the table. - Under a cut, due to length, as we're a wordy bunch.

Frankly, Cube Anon, I don't mind your presence. I'm not sure how to feel about this from the archival standpoint, as on one hand, this does help unravel the mystery a bit, but on the other hand, I will admit this feels a little bit like unintentional triangulation. Which, honestly, I've used worse tactics in a self-unaware manner while completely emotionally wrecked, so I don't blame you. However, I will not let it go unacknowledged.

That said, we now know what you sent the user and what their post was responding to.

We do intend to publish this to have your voice be heard. And honestly, this mostly reads like... just a mistake? I don't know, even if it wasn't intended to be fetish-farming, it sounds like you got wrapped up in things and needed to dial it back a bit. Like you thought it'd make a good running gag or something and didn't realize what it came off as. ...Are you a minor, by any chance? Because that would explain it being intended as a joke, but unintentionally reading as fetish farming; something you were potentially unaware even existed.

But, in all honesty, if it was fetish stuff, general consensus - within our system and in the fandom - is to just commission as replied to in this ask you sent to pipartuuli.

It's because fetish farming is something artists really have to look out for, if this was fetish related, because like... you know, something more on the innocuous side like this when it's intended for fetish purposes isn't exactly something all artists consent to. That's why even if it's not fetish stuff, the sheer amount of asks you sent combined with the fact that it's anon, and whatnot... it just looks a lot like fetish stuff, you know.

And like, I dunno, I don't think any of it makes you a parasite, per se? Regardless of the intentions, it sounds like you didn't know better, to a degree, and like you got in over your head.

I don't think a misunderstanding of online etiquette necessarily means you're a predator, even if it's fetish stuff? Because here, as well as in the previously mentioned ask you sent pipartuuli indicates remorse. I'm just saying, three times is a pattern - and this is technically the third time you've expressed remorse for the ask spam. While I respect your decision to leave the community after this - I really don't know if I wouldn't do the same - I do want to offer our askbox as a place for you to give us answers, clear the air on the mystery a bit. You know, let us get all the facts and let your voice be heard, since there's a lot of high emotions underneath what it became.

While I, myself, am not too invested in this, I do think it's in your best interest to separate yourself from the parts of the fandom that responded to you with vitriol. I can't imagine this has done any wonders for your mental health, so do what you can to remedy that. The more we think about it, at the very least I know Bell and I are inclined to agree with Dick; that is, you are potentially a minor and something you sent as a joke got a little out of hand. I, and the others, are glad to see you've taken the wave caused by this in stride. Please, do take care of yourself.

Echoing their sentiments, I agree with Dick, you can totally use our askbox to help answer things, get your side of everything across if need be, because honestly, the fact you came to us to mediate horrifies us a bit. And on top of that, I know a lot of us have questions, so by all means, go ahead and just talk to us, if you feel the need to further clarify things.

It was good to see you, Cube Anon. Sorry if this is messy, too many cooks in the kitchen right now, clearly.

#toki cube #ldknightshade.txt #orange is bell #blue is dick #red is jason #purple is v #our head hurts from rapid switching but the whole brain got opinions #asks

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because-its-eurovision · 2 years ago

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Just a little 🦋 landing in your askbox to put all the strength 💪💪💪, all the positivity and all the light ☀️🌕⭐️🕯💡🔦🌌🌠🏮 she can carry, for you to have in the new month in there. She also leaves this 🌻 here for you

i needed this now more than ever and all the words in the world could not express how thankful i am for your kindness and support and yes i'm crying 🥺😭❤️

i just had the best seven days of my life with the secret show and new mv and umk, so of course today when i woke up my stupid bully of a brain was on full volume again spreading the darkness the every little corner like poisonous fog, strangling and crippling every nice and sunny thought there might have been, yelling how i'm a terrible person and worst fan in the world and don't deserve any positivity or nice things ever because i'm so horrible and disgusting and ugly inside and out, and don't deserve BC in my life because they are better than me and the world would be so much better place if i just stopped being alive and bothering everyone with my existence, and how i finally have people in my life who i consider friends and i don't deserve them either because i can't even answer their messages on time and why do i even take such a long time to think about answering asks because it's not like i could fool anyone thinking that i'm smart or funny or kind because i'm just a piece of trash worth less than a literal piece of shit, so i should just kms but because i'm such a loser and can't even do that, there's no reason getting up from the bed ever again

#:)#thank you for the butterfly bringing hope 🦋🤲🥺💙#asks

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numbaoneflaya · 2 years ago

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hiiii papa bear, can i get 011, 014, 022 for Felria, 021, 035, 052 for Sarge, and 028, 059, 077 for Nirn pwease and thank u

kissnig this ask so kindly as apology over how fuckn long it took me, i forgor abt it in my askbox 4give me 😭😭

Fel

011. How would your character court the person of their dreams?

-She is very perceptive and people watches stalks in order to get information on others- in her line of work she seduces a lot of people as part of her efforts to get closer to them, so shes very in tune with what individuals want/need, which comes in handy when trying to court a partner (and not just a target). With someone shes genuinely trying to woo shes much more playful and bratty, takes a kind of ‘pulling on ur ponytail bcs she likes you’ approach which she would never take with a victim. Teasing and flirtatious, pretty brazen too bcs shes not afraid to vocalize what she wants. Does things like leave lipstick mark kisses on notes, give expensive gifts so they can match, and also kill people they seem annoyed with or at least offer to do so.

014. Detail one secret shame your character feels.

-Honestly, shes the tiniest bit ashamed of killing her younger sister. Only the smallest part, and it may still be raw embarrassment. Imagine being so insecure you need to kill a toddler. Is it guilt? Shame? No, she tells herself.

She's unfamiliar with the feeling of shame, mostly. Even when the guards had cursed and dragged her away naked to the black cells when theyd found her fucking the corpses of her victims, she wasnt ashamed. Only mildly annoyed and pouting. Shame only enters her vocabulary when she's going through her mountains of dresser drawers, and finds just how out of fashion some of her old dresses are- how had she ever worn those in public? Gag!

022. What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?

-Herself in any new outfit in the mirror, clean and flushed, smiling and manicured. She takes her own breath away, though the view of someone exhaling their own last breath beneath her may as well be a strong second choice.

Sarge

021. How do they display affection?

Hes big on hair ruffling if you'll let him, given as hes about two feet taller than most people while in human form. Hes a bit of a hugger too, and gives the best bear hug you'll ever get in your life. He shows affection physically like that, and also in copious compliments in whatever you're doing. Does also do enthusiastic back slaps but it kinda feels more like being tapped by gentle moth bcs if he really went in on it you'd be slammed across the room.

035. What is the most important rule your character lives by?

-hmm… maybe just a simple ‘don't cause shit where there ain't none”? Hes pretty damn hesitant to start up drama between the human and demonic world, because he knows how fuckin difficult it is to manage that once that door is open and politics get involved. Also the golden rule of ‘Dont Shit Where You Eat’ is pretty important to him. Hes not about to start causing problems near his base or around the people he works with.

052. What is your character’s worst flaw?

He's a pretty selfish man with very little regard to any sense of greater good. He may care about certain people and love them even, so he can understand other people having the same proclivity, and he can also understand people who only care about themselves and want to cause harm to the world. But he can't fully wrap his mind around people believing in the idea of any ‘greater good’ or vague moral ideation without real world benefit. He thinks anyone can be bought or broken down enough to get something from them.

Nirn

028. What makes them laugh out loud?

-A well timed quip or verbal jab, especially if it takes him in surprise. If it's against him he'll still laugh just be prepared for something equally scathing in return, though he remains playful with it. Hes also fond of plays and any good comedy will probably earn a few chuckles from him.

059. List several phrases your character is fond of uttering. Where did they pick them up?

-I have no idea how to answer this one but he do be saying shit like “Truly? It is so?” “Rather unbecoming of you.” “Shall we?” *insert long winded spiel abt proper etiquette he learned from a book his father made him read as a child* “there is no need to be so… uncouth” “impudence is seldom rewarded. Mind your tongue”

077. How often do they cry? Over what?

-Very very rarely :/ mans is truly older than balls and cant recall the last time he cried. Probably if he were to let someone in and care for someone and they died, but he doesnt do that very often at all. Lat time he cried was probs thousands of years ago out of frustration over his brothers antics and the chaos they caused.

#felria #sarge #nirn #again my apologies dsfgdhdf i just rememebed this like i was struck by lightning #nirn is truly so irritating. boy can u stop being so high class high maintenance

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x-authorship-x · 1 year ago

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I'm not too big on creating ocs (love reading about them but when it comes to my own writing I usually prefer using canon characters) but I do have one Naruto oc that I've never used or talked about (also my friends aren't interested so- sad) that lives in my head rent-free and that I should probably write a story about some day but Idk

Basically she's a half-Uzumaki half-Hoshigaki kunoichi who is not affiliated to any village, she was just a kid when her mother was able to make her escape alive out of the destruction of Uzushio and she has been roaming the Elemental Countries ever since, at first looking for places to hide and survive but later on in her life she actually comes to love traveling around

She has a Kekkei Genkai that allows her to use steam release and as such she has both water and fire as main chakra natures

She wears an Uzushio headband which belonged to her mother and she has yet to find anyone else who has one, she's also a little bit proficent with seals but since she was a kid when she had to leave Uzushio she didn't have the time to learn too much and while she loves experimenting her actual knowledge is very patchy and all she knows comes from a lot of trials and errors

I've never thought about her place in the canon timeline so I don't have much about that (like if she would have met Kushina and/or known about Naruto) but yeah, she's one of my, Idk, 4 ocs? And the only Naruto one I have

Hope you like her 😌

PS: No, she doesn't have a name because I've never thought about it, not mentioning it was not an error- I think of my very few ocs only one or two of them actually have names? Poor ocs, I don't even give them a name lmao

Hey Anon!

Half-Uzumaki, half-Hoshigaki? Her chakra reserved must be impressive! 👁️👄👁️ What does she look like, blue skin and red hair or?

Steam release is so cool, you think it's just some Kiri mist? Jokes on you, bitch, it's scalding your skin!

We love a wanderer, holding onto the remnants of her culture 🥹 does she meet Karin and her mum do you think? I always get a bit soft for the Uzumaki refugees

She sounds wonderful - haha names are the last thing I do for most OCs, so I getcha - and thank you for telling me about her! Have a good day/night, Anon!

P.S- any of my followers, please feel free to gush to me in my askbox about their OCs or ask about mine ☺️✨

#torship #torship talks #ask #anon #oc talk #anon oc

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beaktube · 2 years ago

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THIS BLOG IS 18+, ANYONE INTERACTING WITHOUT AN AGE SOMEWHERE IN THEIR BIO OR PINNED POST WILL BE BLOCKED.

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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, for this is the lair of Beak!

I am a creation myth entity/monster giftuber, and my specialty is creating whatever I please. Whether it is through drawing, modeling, animating, or any other medium I can get my claws on, I will find a way to bend it to my will and birth forth monstrosities of my own making and design.

Beak does not suffer the fool, so beware what you say or do- lest you leave with one less limb, or head, depending on my mood.

Regardless, do try to make yourself at home among the darkness of the void. I’m sure the icy chill won’t linger on your mortal form for too long.

Picarto

Archival Playlists (Youtube):

Picarto

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Hi, I’m the human behind this pain arcade.

In summary I’m a 32 year old nonbinary/agender from the USA, I like body horror, blood, guts, bleak as fuck horror, old animation styles, and monsters! I also prefer being around other adults around my age, hence the 18+ note on my blog, and my streams.

I stream mainly as a way to focus on my work, and having an avatar of my sona in the corner is just a way to have fun with it. I only recently sort of stepped into the whole vtuber community thing, and frankly while I like having fun with my avatar and streaming my work, admittedly the community is lacking to me and there’s not a ton I like. You will find out what those things are from scrolling through this blog, I’m neither shy nor quiet about it. You won’t find a whole lot of bubbly, surface deep niceties either. I have nothing to sell, and no burning drive to gather in a numerous tide of followers for ad revenue, all you see here is me.

So naturally I’m something of an outlier. I think it’s fitting though, given that my sona is a monstrous entity from a different universe.

That said, this account is just a place to stick all my stream related stuff so I’m not cluttering up my main blog with it. I like to call it a quarantine. I’ll reblog monster designs I like, and things that remind me of my sona.

Last but not least I keep the askbox open, but you are not allowed to hide behind anon like a little bitchy coward and make petty jabs. If you’re going to be a dick, you should have the balls to put your fake, also technically identity hiding name, next to it. I would rather deal with a complete set, if you will.

Here are some tags I use, to make it easier to find things:

Monster Appreciation - I reblog monster designs I like here, any commentary on them will be in the tags.

beastybeak says a thing - Text posts! Anything I talk about will be found here, including stream announcements. But beware, you may be in for an opinion you do not agree with and therefore a scare!

Character vibes - A place where I stick things that remind me of my sona, Beak. This could be music, memes, images, anything.

Beaktubin - The tag I use for stream related posts, Including stream and vod announcements.

#beastybeak says a thing #new pinned #since I got something of a bearing #or at least a strong inclination towards what I'm doing here

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xyzzysqrl · 7 months ago

Note

Someone sent me this ask game, so I guess I'll pass it on:

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! (If you want to)

SO.

Nobody reblogs things from me, so I give you (tumblr) permission - If you wanna do this, do it, say I put you up to it. The world cannot stop you.

FIVE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY (by Xyzzifer K.Q. Sqrlmoggington)

Video games

The video game industry is poop from a butt, but video games themselves are better, more accessible, and there's MORE of them than ever before in human history. Roughly eight hundred billion video games a minute are uploaded to stores, slapped on free web pages, or just materializing out of the aether onto people's hard drives and they're all amazing and they keep happening.

Nothing can stop this from happening. Even if there's an industry-wide AAA-gaming crash, indies will continue making games as they have for ages. It is unstoppable, it is wonderful.

Streaming

Hi I stream video games. So this is closely tied to the previous entry but it's my list so I'm doin' the thing anyway. I've been streaming since roughly two years ago and it feels good+cool to do so. I get to open a video window, play a video game, and just dump the entire contents of my brain on anyone watching. Sometimes they prompt me with stuff to ramble on about. It's the best. The one downside is that I do it every night except Monday so I have very little blogging energy anymore. S'fine I don't mind. Lately I've been playing Islets (a really gorgeous Metroidvania) and Star Ocean Second Story R (a remake of a favorite, incredibly breakable JRPG from my young days).

Anime

Have you heard of anime? It's straight from Japan, totally unexpected, not kids stuff. I love a lot of anime. Frieren is last season's darling, sure, but it's also extremely heartfelt and earnest in a way that a lot of more cynical shows would not dare to touch. A giant robot will always make my soul soar, so shows like Gaogaigar or last season's Bravern sparkle to me. I've been watching Back Arrow lately, it's about a dude everybody calls "Baka Yaro" (or "idiot asshole") and his quest to leave a sealed-off world for something better. It's vibrant and energetic and heartbreaking and fun. Love anime dearly.

Food

I'm eating a grilled cheese right now. It's good. Way too much cheese for any practical purpose. As it should be.

Just living day to day really

There's a lot in the world to be miserable about. But I get up every day and I go find out what's happening in the world and invariably I read that somewhere, something cool is happening and it kinda balances out the bullshit. I am 40 or 50 years old and I do not need to be concerned about everything horrid happening in the world, but I try to concern myself at least a little with the good things happening.

This is not a cheap cop-out because I'm half-awake and can't think of another entry shush.

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septembersghost · 2 years ago

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I feel like the biggest reason why harry and justin aren't comparable because he seems like he sees music as a 'job' instead of 'passion'? I never got a vibe from justin that he is passionate about it as a craft or have that connection to it like harry. Harry seems like a musical equivalent of bookworm. He puts so much thought in what to put out,how the listener would feel,or how to put himself in his music while justin (to me atleast) seems like he wants hits and no 1 s. (His stunt to get yummy no 1🙄). Harry is an album artist through and through to the point where he is incapable of putting a perfectly good song in an album if it feels out of place in an album. I think this is the biggest reason why harry doesn't do deluxes. He wants an album listen to be an experience. He focuses more on leaving a mark as an artist rather than a hitmaker. He makes music because he loves it(kid harpoon talked about harry wanting to work during lockdown and he thought harry was crazy for that). He talked about his songs as his little babies. He talks about music as if it's a language on its own (greatest unspoken dialogue😭) or a cosmic force beyond our control. He talked in depth how the most intriguing thing to write about is loneliness. Justin (again to me) feels like a singles artist more than album one. (Sorry if this is a mess. I am not exactly the most articulate person in the room .I know this has a lot of controversial takes. Which is why I am 100% okay if you don't agree with me or post it)

i have never followed him closely, and admittedly know barely any of his music, so i can't speak with any real authority here, but i think it's possible he was passionate about it as a kid and then got burned out from the pressure/stress/intense fame and so forth. he's never been surrounded by people really fostering his art or even him as a person. being a hitmaker is certainly an accomplishment and i don't deny he's achieved that many times, but i'm not sure music is his lifeblood. whereas, whatever anyone may want to think about him, music is that for h. he's always writing or honing his craft or immersed in music in some way (and i think calling him a bookworm is fairly accurate, he's a bookworm in general!). He wants an album listen to be an experience. yes, and you can feel each element of that when you listen to them straight through as intended. i suspect you're right about his reasons for not doing deluxes too, he sees them as complete works and isn't interested in changing that. he loves music with all his soul and that emanates from him (and seeing that exist very clearly was what made me connect to him in the first place. that will always get me in an artist!). explorations of love and loneliness are such staples of music because they're such constant parts of humanity, and every artist very invested in that unlocks it differently.

h wanting to work and write during lockdown makes perfect sense to me and i have to laugh a little that anyone around him who knows him well would wonder at the reason for that. kid harpoon, if i may call you tom, sir, you KNOW this man!

I am not exactly the most articulate person in the room. you're just fibbing to me in my askbox?! pls. you are SO articulate and this was a thoughtful way of looking at this!!! <3

He talks about music as if it's a language on its own (greatest unspoken dialogue😭) or a cosmic force beyond our control. tbh i believe it often IS its own magical, emotive, complex language and a cosmic force beyond our control. as my darling zoe says: music transcends our existence.

#this is why we needed an h specific tag so i can tag our convos without being in the general tag 😂#but i agree w/ you and you are very well spoken! (or written as the case may be)#anonymous #letterbox #your delicate point of view

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jiminrings · 3 years ago

Text

nine to five

pairing: jimin x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: dr. park jimin's unbreakable when it comes to skill, dedication, and work ethic; meanwhile, you jump between part-time jobs for the fun of it. he's just trying his best to look out for you — too bad he sucks at it. (spin-off to take five!)

alternatively, you're friends with benefits with jimin and you always kiss him on the cheek before he leaves — but one day you stop.

[ mutual pining, 30% angst (there is Redemption I Swear), smut, fluff n wholesomeness, jimin's rude + out of touch towards ppl outside of his tax bracket for a hot minute, minor injuries (dog bites n scratches, bruises, blood, etc.) sustained from part-time jobs ]

notes: inspired by workman on youtube!! you don't necessarily have to watch it in order to read this <3 a lot of people told me they started watching hospital playlist after reading take five, so i'm doing the same with this to try and convert u into my emotional clutch shows agenda :D also a reminder that i am in no way making fun of any of the jobs mentioned below!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

It's not easy to throw Jimin off.

Simply to say, his tolerance is as good as boundless. He just continuously endures and although it doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s passive, he just chooses to let things slide. He, of all people, would know that constantly furrowing your brows speeds up one’s wrinkling process. It’s not like Jimin doesn’t care enough — it’s just that he’s almost always unfazed.

He remains calm and doesn’t yell any louder than necessary when he’s dragged into haunted houses and escape rooms. If he was being blunt, he’d say that anyone who willingly puts themselves through it and scream bloody murder, must have never learned about the concept of cause and effect. You pay to get scared and in turn would go through the experience, and you still have the nerve to be surprised about it?

Tiny internal rant aside, Jimin is still calm.

He's patient with pranks and laughs it off, no matter how impractical they could be. It’s as impractical as his parents spending two hours in the crack of dawn to fill up his room with balloons on his 15th birthday, and it is a little lame, but Jimin isn’t heartless — of course he wakes up laughing! The little stretches of his genuine laughter outweighs his knowledge that he had been hearing latex squeaking since two hours ago.

All throughout their medical careers, if Dr. Min is known to be patient, then Dr. Park is known to be a saint. He was the junior that every senior wanted to tuck under their wing, and the senior that every junior wanted to bag with them. There was a time in their fellowship when Yoongi kept replacing Jimin's stethoscope with a toy version of it right when he was about to do rounds, for a whole week, and the most reaction he got was a flick to the forehead at the end (read: surrender) of his prank.

Jimin’s just so unbothered to the point that it’s unnerving.

He’s not exactly clueless with the way that the people in his life still strive to throw him curveballs; in fact, it’s amusing.

Was it annoying that Yoongi moved every piece of furniture in the clinic two inches to the right to try and grit at his co-owner’s gears? Yeah. Was it fulfilling to pretend that he didn’t keep bumping his hip into table corners and mess up his depth perception, just for the sake of frustrating Yoongi? Completely.

Sure, it did tick his nerves a little when Hoseok kept paging him into the lobby, only for the receptionist to tell him that he didn’t call his name. It must have went for only ten times, and the only reason Jimin went for the previous nine was because he wanted to save face! What would the dozens of clients in the lobby think when their doctor doesn’t come when asked for?

Yoongi is far from giving up.

Hoseok is long done.

The latter is what completely confuses Jimin.

Jimin had never been caught off-guard this badly and when it happened, he tried to reel himself in the moment he came back to his car.

It's when he's getting dressed to leave after the best, most fulfilling, and only sex he's had in a long while, making conversation with you while he makes himself coffee to drink while driving back home.

Jimin thought that since you’re Hoseok’s friend, he must’ve put you to the task. It’s not that far off to think that for the three months you’ve been fucking, all of it was his friend’s plan to throw him out of his rhythm.

What’s more confusing, is that he’s beyond certain that what you did was sincerely done out of your own accord. No one dear to him could faze him to this extent.

But you? You throw Jimin off.

You do it in such a genuine yet nonchalant way that Jimin thinks he must’ve conjured the whole scenario in his head at one point.

It’s surreal to think about because you lean into him with ease, a gentle hold on his forearm as if he just didn’t blow your back out minutes ago.

All of his senses shut down and the remaining control he has left is all used into squeaking a goodbye, speed-walking out of your door and holding his breath until he reaches his car.

He’s far from calm and he’s the furthest thing from collected. There’s no reasonable explanation to anything that happened in the last two minutes, and that’s as far as his mind could go.

You kissed Jimin on the cheek.

( ♡ )

Did Jimin lose sleep over you kissing him on the cheek? Without a doubt. He’s been jumpy since this morning and it’s beginning to startle everyone in the clinic — everyone.

Awhile ago, Yoongi was being observant and good-natured as usual that naturally, he tried pointing out to Jimin that he sees a pimple forming on his cheek. He only poked it for the sake of locating it, and he was just about to offer treating it for him, when Jimin jumped two feet away from him the moment his cheek (the one you kissed) was touched.

True enough, there is a pimple forming and with abrupt agreements, Jimin told Yoongi to do his magic with it the moment he gets a break. He did wear a mask to try and avoid unnecessary attention, but of course someone just had to startle him even more.

“Ah, you look sleazy with that mask on. Kisses? Really?” Hoseok squints his eyes, unaware of the way Jimin’s eyes bulge in panic. All he cares about is sitting on the comfiest chair in the breakroom and eating his lunch, but that plan’s steadily bound to be overthrown.

He’s pointing to the pattern of kisses on his face mask, a spare stock of what all the staff wore back for valentine’s day. Hoseok knows that he’s pertaining to the design, but Jimin clearly doesn’t.

“Y-you know?” he mutters under his breath, caught breathless in a situation he’s unsure to whether or not it favors him. At his surprise, Hoseok has an inkling that they’re not on the same wavelength at the moment.

Not at all.

“What do I know?” Hoseok tilts his head, still grasping at nothing with how Jimin’s now doubting him.

“Are you faking?” Jimin counters, swallowing the lump on his throat. They’re literally going nowhere and he wants to get somewhere at least before the day ends, atleast starting off with someone who knows you better than him. “Listen, what if we both say what we think we’re talking about at the same time?”

It’s a half-baked idea but Hoseok just shrugs it off, saying the first thing that came to his mind the moment Jimin started counting down.

“Aren’t we talking about your pimple?”

“You know that Y/N kissed me?”

Hoseok groans in annoyance at the instance the words leave his friend, putting his head on his hands to try and shrug the image off his brain.

Sure, he has an inkling that the two of you looked at each other a little too suggestively for your first meeting. He introduced you to Jimin when you came into the clinic bearing his homemade birthday lunch (one that you’ve been making yearly for him the past five years), and it’s not like he regrets introducing you! Both you and Jimin are good people; he just didn’t want to know too much information.

"Gross. Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear about your sex life with my friend."

"But she kissed me," Jimin half-whispers and half-whines, gripping into Hoseok’s arm as if it was his lifeline. The receptionist doesn’t budge him off, but his furrowed brows are telling enough that he wants the conversation to be over soon.

"Okay...? What do you want me to say to that?"

Jimin grows exasperated, tempted to throw a tantrum as he runs his hand through his hair.

"Hoseok, I meant she kissed me in like, a lover way and not a friends-with-benefits type of way!"

There’s obviously too much information being shared with yours and Jimin’s mutual friend, and mutual friend does not like it, but said mutual friend now knows too much to the point that he’s invested.

Hoseok pauses his eating, blinking slowly with no malice peeking from his tone.

"But don't you like Y/N in a lover way?"

Jimin’s not mad that Hoseok’s caught on to him this quickly, the emotion isn’t even in his vocabulary when it comes to you. It’s just that he’s torn and confused and wary — all the other three feelings that he despises going through.

"Yeah but like not completely, y’know? I still said I was unsure if I really do have those feelings for her," he admits with a shake of his head, his cheeks puffing in a sigh out of recollection about what he was really discussing. “A cheek kiss! She kissed me on the cheek before I went out of the door."

"Again, Jimin," his friend rolls his eyes, setting down his chopsticks after a large bite because he knows the younger won’t stop talking anytime soon. "What do you want me to say?"

Jimin quirks his lips to the side, looking down on his lap. What does he want Hoseok, a friend to you first and a friend to him second, to say? He doesn’t necessarily know if he wants him to hyper-analyze your actions. He can’t tell if he wants advice. He’s unsure if he wants to be reassured.

He goes with the first question that pops into his head, no matter how blunt it sounds.

"Don't you find it weird? Who kisses the guy they fuck on the cheek after sex?"

Now that he phrases it that way, Hoseok sighs deeply, shaking his head in passing. Quite frankly, even he doesn’t know what to say to that.

"Dunno. Never happened to me before," he shrugs his shoulders, waving his hand off to further prove his upcoming input. "Calm down. It's probably nothing."

"But it's something!" Jimin rebutts, eyes widening now that he realizes that the reassurance he wanted to hear does not comfort him at all.

"Well now you sound like you want it to be something,” Hoseok snorts, electively humming to provide background music to Jimin’s mini meltdown.

"Why would she kiss me on the cheek?"

"Eh. She kisses me on the cheek too,” he says as a matter of fact, thinking that the tidbit of information is gonna help calm his friend’s nerves down and stronghold him into letting him eat without interruption.

Jimin narrows his eyes, a quiet scoff leaving his lips as he crosses his arms.

"Why would she kiss you on the cheek?"

"Now you're just jealous."

Hoseok stares Jimin down and the look of emotional constipation on the latter’s face makes him hiccup, making the former chuckle while raising his hands in surrender.

"God, I don't know! Friends can kiss each other on the cheek, Y/N's affectionate like that. Don't think too much of it."

Right. Of course Hoseok’s right!

Friends kiss each other on the cheek all the time and it just so happens that your love language is physical touch and affection. It all just happens to be and you don’t actively make it happen.

That’s probably the answer that Jimin of five minutes ago would’ve wanted to hear, but the Jimin of now is unsatisfied, the plausible explanation still not tickling his brain in the way he thought it would.

Just as if on cue, Yoongi enters the room, audibly gasping at the sight.

"Ugh. Breakroom gossip without me?!" he whines, pouting at the door in irritation.

"Yoongi! Finally. I need your opinion on this one," Jimin beckons him over and Yoongi doesn’t waste a single second, immediately replacing Hoseok in the throne of his comfortable chair.

"Good. You deal with him," Hoseok mutters, but not before swiping Yoongi’s coffee on the way out.

Jimin clears his throat to repeat his previous narration, instantly getting a wince not even two sentences into his recollection.

"Do I really need to know about your sex life?"

"You don't need to but of course, you just have to be sulky when you're left out with breakroom gossip, don't you?" he rolls his eyes, his coat sleeve being tugged in franticness when he pretends to stand up.

Yoongi straightens his posture, giggling whilst shaking his head.

"Kidding, kidding. Don't leave me out ever again," his voice deepens, leaning closer with knitted eyebrows to hear the gossip he sensed that’s been brewing since this morning. "I'm listening."

( ♡ )

Yoongi is not the devil’s advocate.

However, he is an occasional asshole that really just wants to get on Jimin’s nerves every once in a while.

He cares about his friend’s feelings, he really does, but Yoongi thinks that Jimin just really isn’t looking at his problem in the right way. His girlfriend would call him out for meddling but really, all that he’s doing is merely teasing — a tiny bit of teasing won’t hurt, especially if he knows it would launch Jimin into a different yet positive spiral (but it’s still a spiral nonetheless).

“What if it was a cheek kiss out of pity?”

Now in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t Yoongi’s brightest idea up to date.

He said the words playfully and yet Jimin sits shocked as if he cussed his family tree out, mouth slightly part open at the syllables that keep ringing in his head. What’s worse is that he misinterprets the shock as amusement, going much further this time.

“Kinda like a participation certificate, y’know? A thanks for showing up badge.”

Out. Of. Pity.

“I’m just uh, I- well would you look at the time? Lunch break’s over,” Yoongi awkwardly excuses himself, looking at his bare wrist that’s not even adorned by a watch today. The look of distress is just too overwhelming on Jimin’s features that it makes him squirm, too preoccupied in giving him space that he doesn’t fully realize that it’s perhaps the first time he’s seen him in such disarray.

He breezes through his schedule for the day and honestly speaking, he wasn’t even paying half the attention he usually would to his clients. Barely engaged in small talk and if that wasn’t enough, he also managed to call a client (or two) the wrong name.

It was an indelible loop that keeps playing in his ear, the buzzing so obnoxious that he physically has to shake his head to block it out.

Did he not satisfy you enough?

Jimin, against probable and rational judgement, calls if he can come over — not to talk, but to rather prove himself instead.

You look beat as soon as you come home to your apartment, fatigued eyes widening in surprise to see that Jimin, against patience and virtue, really did take your offer of letting him in with a spare keycard.

You told him you would be coming home late awhile ago and he hummed in recognition. By late, you meant an-hour-overtime late and not the usual fifteen minutes that you’d warn him about.

Jimin’s been waiting for you in your own home for an hour straight.

It’s odd, to say the least. The whole context is weird but what’s even more weird is that you’re not surprised at all to see that true to his word, he waited for you patiently. There’s not a single thing out of place — the only space being occupied being your couch, and particularly in that specific spot he always sits on.

Jimin’s sneakers are placed next to yours on your shoe rack. His car keys are placed on your counter, in the same tray you’d also put yours in. He’s wearing the sweatpants he’d wear inside his own place.

Jimin looks like he belongs to your home and in all honesty, you don’t hate one bit of it.

“Hiii.”

You drawl in recognition as soon as you enter your front door, immediately padding towards Jimin while he smiles at the sight of you. He doesn’t even know that an hour has passed already since he let himself inside your apartment, and he isn’t even aware that not once did he look at the time in impatience.

“Tired, baby?” he asks gently, humming as he puts his hand on your lower back out of instinct, a chuckle involuntarily leaving him when you decided to sit on his lap.

It isn’t even sexual to begin with. You sit on his lap because you’re tired and he’s warm and in the little time you decided to initiate skinship with him, you melt.

Jimin feels you get comfortable in his lap and he has no qualms in bundling you in his arms, hugging you as he realizes it belatedly.

He doesn’t hate one bit of your warmth.

“Mhmm. Lifting candy makes you so tired,” you murmur to his neck, trying to fight away the sleep that’s weighing down on your eyelids. You try to fight it by realizing that you’re dirty from being outside and you need to take a shower before heading to bed, but the lingering scent of Jimin’s perfume on his neck says you don’t necessarily need to break from his grasp now.

“Candy? I thought you worked in sports,” his eyebrows knit in confusion, turning his head to look at you to confirm his knowledge, but you’re just so close that all he sees is your cheek; so close to the point that the tip of his nose nudges it.

You hum in response, unabashedly nudging your head closer to Jimin’s neck to breathe in his scent that calmed you to no end. “The court cleaner gig? Ah. That was from a week ago.”

He blinks earnestly, pausing from looking at you to look at your framed certificate on the console across the room.

“Didn’t you graduate with a double major in finance and accounting?” he knows the information to heart because it was the first thing he learned about you from Hoseok, so he doesn’t know why he looked at your certificate.

Actually, Jimin doesn’t even know why he’s so curious about it, because the last time he checked, he came here to disprove his insecurities and prove himself to you — even if you know nothing of the matter. “Never mind that. Are you sore, hmm?”

“Very,” you wince at the reminder that the entirety of your arms are aching, the sensation reminding you why you even accepted Jimin’s meek question if he could come over.

“Jimin,” you mumble and he perks up attentively, using everything in your strength to will yourself at prying your face away from his neck just so you could deliver your request sincerely. “Fuck me to a good night’s sleep, please.”

He buffers.

He buffers for one, two seconds — and it doesn’t help that you go back to nuzzling into him as if you didn’t ask of him to basically fuck you into next week.

In fact, Jimin even forgets that he’s here for that exact reason. He thought that he was here to be your furnace as you sit on his lap because you’re spent from lifting candy all day, but he’s obviously not opposed doing the other, first-most reason.

He chuckles at your choice of words now that it really sinks into him, feeling you peek one eye open with a faux mocking look.

“Can you do all the work?”

“Can I do all the work?” he lilts his voice and it’s enough to know that he’ll deliver on your request, a content smile forming on your face the moment you feel his hands roaming to undress you.

Jimin chooses not to move you because it’s clear to him that you already have a favorite spot at the moment (on his lap regardless if he’s naked or not), and just makes the reminder to carry you back to bed once you’ve finished.

“Up,” he lifts you by your thighs, taking off both your pants and your underwear in a few swift motions. He feels your sigh elongate in contentment because you return to his warmth once he sets you back down, immediately making quick work of massaging your thighs from standing up all day. “How many hours do you sleep?”

“A minimum of eight if I sleep late on the weekends.”

Jimin can’t help but to chuckle at your prompt answer, shifting his thumb closer to your heat when you hum to his ear. He finds you moving yourself closer to his hand that’s removing his sweatpants, flattered enough that he doesn’t even try to lift you a little so he could undress himself easier.

“It’s only nine in the evening.”

He finally acknowledges the time on the clock behind you but you don’t even follow his gaze, simply just groaning and making an off-hand comment that the candy industry is just not for you.

“What time do you want to wake up tomorrow?”

Jimin nudges you by your thighs again to shift, this time to put his straining cock in you. It’s merely an innocent question at first glance, even if he grunts the second you put all your eagerness into sinking down on him slowly to savor the stretch.

He’s amused with the way you chuckle with your chest even if he’s already cock-deep inside you. It isn’t in his routine to you know, normally talk and make conversation while he fucks! It throws him off his distraction so for any other occasion, Jimin just resorts to showing his presence by letting out absentminded grunts while chasing his climax.

The two of you are exclusively fucking, by the way.

It’s all just so casual and easygoing with you that even if you’re half-asleep and wholly turned on at the moment, Jimin finds no real rush.

“I wanna say one in the afternoon, maybe?”

He clicks his tongue, audibly groaning to look down where the two of you meet. Nobody takes him as well as you do and Jimin really can’t be willed to test that fact with anyone else.

“1 PM on a Saturday?” he repeats for clarification, grunting when your pussy clenches around him, your core already done with adjusting to his.

He gets a first shallow thrust up into you, the position burying him into you deeper than he normally could. You feel so good that it makes his bottom lip quiver, ripping away a shaky moan from his throat.

“Yeah, no problem. I can fuck you good enough tonight to knock you out until tomorrow noon.”

True to his word, Jimin fucks you good — more than good. He thrusts into you slowly and deeply while he holds you just as tightly, kissing your lips more than he ever did before and it's all too euphoric.

Maybe the question all along wasn't about if he satisfied you enough.

Maybe it's about if he appreciated you sufficiently.

Jimin carries you to your bed and cleans you up, going the extra mile to tuck you in with pillows on either side of you. He fills up the bottle on your bedside table with cold water so it wouldn't be room temperature by the time you wake up tomorrow. He arranges his house slippers next to yours, preparing to tell you good night when you beat him into asking.

“Driving home tonight?” you ask even if you already know the answer, no hint of malice in your tone.

“Yeah. Early morning tomorrow." He's apologetic but he just doesn’t know why. He never apologized before for leaving, because after all that's what friends with benefits do, but the reminder of the status doesn't calm him like he expected it would.

Jimin looks lost and you don't know why, and you want to know why, but your head is just too fuzzy to bring it up and you figure that no one likes an existential question after a head-splitting climax — so you reserve the question for next time.

“Come here.”

You beckon him over because you’re clearly too tired to stand up, and for a second, you don't even know why you ask him to do so.

Jimin doesn't know why he complies either, but he does it nonetheless.

You kiss him on the cheek, again.

“Drive safe.”

Jimin tenses up, an involuntary squeak leaving his lips that you mistaken it for words you can't even place just because with how blurry your mind is, taking it as his goodbye for you instead.

“If I wake up even a minute earlier than one in the afternoon tomorrow, I’m blocking your number.”

He breathlessly laughs, holding on to your side table for support. You've already closed your eyes even before he can leave your room, the belated realization that you kissed him on the cheek after sex, again, making him clutch at his hair.

You wake up the next day at 2:03 in the afternoon.

Jimin barely got any sleep throughout the night.

( ♡ )

One thing that Jimin can't do is be discreet.

He can't hide his nosiness when he's curious. He physically just can't keep it to himself no matter how small or big is the information intentionally withheld from him, considering that the ones closest to him know how inquisitive he could be.

Jimin particularly can't be discreet when he sees Hoseok at the next workday, only pretending to look at the logbook for a grand total of five (5) seconds before he caves in and rushes behind the receptionist booth to sit next to his friend.

“Where does Y/N work now?”

Hoseok sighs, having already foreseen Jimin's nosiness the moment he stepped foot into the clinic. He keeps his eyes at the monitor though, double-checking and organizing the booked appointments for today.

“She’s a window cleaner at Lotte at the moment.”

“The World Tower?" Jimin scrunches his nose, tilting his head because maybe the new angle would make him understand better. Hoseok wordlessly nods, making him shriek in surprise. "You mean the high-rise?!”

Jimin's too loud and the clinic hasn't even opened yet so there's no establishment music nor client chatter to act as buffers, the sound whole enough to make Hoseok wince.

He grunts, furrowing his brows because they both know they're on the same page but Jimin keeps skimming to the next one.

“Yes...? What windows do you want her to clean?”

“But she was making candy a week ago!” he stammers in reply, the confirmation coming from your best friend further plummeting him into disbelief.

Hoseok tuts, nodding understandingly. He surely remembers your candy job because he became your tester, remembering the taste of caramel that was too bland and watermelon candy that oddly enough, didn't taste like watermelon.

“Ah, yeah. That was last week though.”

Jimin's not hearing things. You did work as a part-time ball and mop cleaner for a basketball team last month, you did work as a candy maker last week, and now you do work as a window cleaner for a high-rise.

It throws him off-guard completely, his curiosity unable to be contained at this point.

“Why does she do this?” he blurts, face scrunched up in confusion. “Jump from one part-time job to another, I mean.”

The additional thought crosses his mind and Jimin really tries to reel himself in, the side comment slipping from his lips before he could notice. “Or if you could even call them jobs at this point.”

Hoseok clicks his tongue in distaste, rolling his eyes.

“Heard that.”

He's typing a little too loudly now and even Jimin notices it, meekly apologizing for the comment. He just waves him off, turning to the next spreadsheet at hand to keep himself occupied. “You want me to call her and ask that? The signal might be good on the 83rd floor.”

“Why’s Y/N like that?”

Jimin asks again this time but the genuine wonder is more evident this time compared to the condescension, making Hoseok indulge him begrudgingly.

“The cheek kisses or the career shifts?”

“I think you could hardly call them careers.”

“Jimin,” Hoseok scolds, his tone warning him to not cross the line any further than he's already doing.

He frowns, fiddling with his fingers but relenting later on. “I’m just being realistic, Hobi.”

“Shh. Don’t speak on it," he asserts. Hoseok finally stops what he's doing to give his undivided attention, spinning with his chair to face Jimin. "Y/N just loves doing the things that she wants, alright? Don’t ruin it for her.”

Your best friend did just say to Jimin to not ruin it for you, but maybe one last interjection won't hurt to point out. After this point, Jimin swears he'll shut his mouth.

“A cum laude. Double-major in finance and accounting. And your best friend’s cleaning windows on a high-rise!”

“And I’m proud of her,” Hoseok means sincerely but says nonchalantly, pursing his lips. “That job pays, by the way. Eight hours for three days and her wage is like, yours and Yoongi’s combined.”

Jimin, finally, shuts up.

He'd be the first to admit that knowing your new job at the moment, or even just knowing a somehow 555m high life update about you but doesn't come from you directly, makes him miss you more.

Getting the update from Hoseok may have made him take his phone out and text you, asking if you have any plans for lunch. Friends with benefits shouldn't ask the other to go to lunch together, and friends with benefits shouldn't agree when the other asks them for lunch.

Neither of you adhere to the supposed FWB etiquette.

At this point, maybe (and the two of you are well-aware now) you aren't just friends with benefits.

"Jimin! There you are. Jeez, I almost went dizzy out there."

You attach yourself to Jimin's side the moment you spot him, his face lighting up in recognition. He's been trying to locate you for the past two minutes assuming that you were wearing something from your closet that he's already familiar with, but of course, he forgot that you work here.

He locates you not a second later because of course, he wouldn't miss you who's wearing a neon orange jumpsuit and is jogging towards him.

Jimin bites his cheek and wraps his arm around your waist in greeting, the urge to do so being so natural that it feels like a second instinct.

He could've went to see you without lunch being involved but seeing that he used the latter as an excuse, Jimin brings you up to the café upstairs and orders for the both of you.

He only left you for a total of five minutes and the moment he comes back, there's a guy sitting on his seat. The guy with the red hair is probably familiar to him, judging by the way you're motioning to him slyly with a knowing smile, but Jimin is just too annoyed to play courtesies.

“Get out. Go search about enemas on your own and shit,” he mutters his remarks based on the tidbits he managed to overhear, tapping the back of his seat impatiently.

Jungkook, your friend, hurriedly gets up from the chair. He only sat in briefly because he's been sitting alone prior to your arrival and of good nature, and also because he wants to ask if your current part-time job has any more openings, he decides to make himself comfortable at the chair opposite to you.

Jimin, however, does not wait for Jungkook to leave before he talks about him to you directly. "Didn't you work with him in that café?"

“Did you mean éclairs?” Jungkook mutters, correcting the extremely different assumption of Jimin as to what he was talking about. Jimin clicks his tongue and groans audibly, making him equally as irritable to go out. “I’m going, I’m going! God, I’m completely harmless to your girlfriend, jeez!”

You freeze upon hearing, but the guy who's now in his rightful chair doesn't.

Jimin doesn't correct him.

( ♡ )

It's only a matter of time before something else entirely throws off Jimin.

He's no longer bothered about the cheek kisses, the gentle pecks on his skin unable to make him lose his sanity at this point in time. He came to accept that you just happened to love giving them to him, and although he could do something about it if he really wanted to, he chooses not to.

He came to accept that you're the only one, if not one of the few people who manage to throw him off his track without prior notice. It's not as if your life's goal was to get under his skin, but it feels like it.

No, Jimin doesn't hate the cheek kisses — he’s bothered about something else now.

Your part-time jobs.

It's been boggling his mind for months now. He didn't necessarily hate each job you've been willingly putting yourself in, but what he hates is that it's completely unnecessary. He'd understand jumping from one job to another if it's what pays the bills, but what he doesn't understand is you don't need to do these jobs at all.

In all fairness, even if you needed them to get through, you could just find part-time jobs that were normal in a sense that it didn't require you to look like a fool or risk your safety.

You simply just like making a fool of yourself and Jimin hates it.

He hates it especially like that time when you asked him out for dinner and you didn't show up, or atleast that's what he thinks of in the first ten minutes. Turns out you signed him up for a floating restaurant that's suspended 70 ft. into the air with a crane — and you showed up! You showed up, not to be his date, but to be a floating restaurant staff member.

Jimin remembers gritting his teeth when you secure his seatbelt and harness, all with an excited grin on your face and whispering "It's me, Y/N!" as if he couldn't pick you out in a sea of a thousand people.

He doesn't remember if he was gritting his teeth because he made the mistake of looking behind him and realizing that maybe he does have a fear of heights or if it was because the food he's been served looks undercooked. What he does remember is getting the fright of his life when you playfully pretend to trip over the edge, but it was all just part of a skit, and Jimin yelled out your name in panic for nothing.

Jimin hates your jobs especially like that time when you worked as a K-9 apprentice trainer. On the first day, your boss asked you to test out the prototype dog bite suit they were trying to patent, and as soon as the agitated Belgian Malinois comes charging after you, you could feel its teeth. Of course the bite neither broke your skin nor the suit, but what you and your boss didn't anticipate is the other German Shepherd who broke out of its cage to tackle you from behind.

It's a miracle that they immediately let go of you after some stern commands, but that didn't exactly mean you came out unscathed. There was one particular scratch on your calf that you think would scar, so you immediately come to the clinic where Hoseok works.

Sure, he was the receptionist for Serendipity Aesthetics but that doesn't mean he's batshit clueless when it comes to the products they carry. Hoseok's clearly intrigued to see you drop in his workplace all of a sudden, but he's even more baffled when you reveal the story and the accompanying marks to it.

Without a word, he tells you he'll take you to the inventory where they keep all their products, but turns out he takes you straight into Jimin's clinic.

He doesn't ask, doesn't even talk, as he cleans up your injuries. You didn't ask him to do that for you, but you don't want to tell him to stop either because for some reason, Jimin looks mad at you. The whole time that he aids you, his jaw is clenched and his grip on you is firm, not making eye contact with you once.

Jimin hates your affinity for taking ridiculous part-time jobs especially like that time when you part-timed as a diving guide. There was a special opportunity for clients in your program wherein an hour prior to their dive, you would hide special gold coins for them to hunt and later exchange for prizes.

You were doing just that in your full-body scuba suit, and Jimin just happened to meet you by chance because he didn't know you would be on the beach at the same time as him. What he didn't expect to happen was to see you and realize that you're wincing out of pain because a fucking jellyfish had stung the bare portion of your skin that was showing.

You were frantically asking him to pee on you because you've heard that it's effective in taking the sting out, and you haven't actually tried that for yourself, but Jimin is just so panicked that he actually considers doing it until your head instructor finally finds you.

No, the jellyfish sting on you isn't fatal.

No, the peeing-on-a-jellyfish-sting myth is pure bullshit.

Yes, Jimin actually feels like passing out from the whole ordeal.

Everything is just too ridiculous that Jimin can't handle seeing you in this state. You said explicitly to him that you were having fun but he isn't.

There's nothing fun seeing you go about your part-time jobs like they're children's cartoons who promoted nothing but risky behavior without a glimpse of dire consequences. There's nothing entertaining seeing you have fun despite knowing the risks.

It's like you weren't even concerned for your safety. All you're after is your enjoyment and the next big thing that would make your heart race.

Even now, Jimin feels like you can't take him seriously because the bruise on your elbow says so. A bruise you obtained from your part-time aquarium job because you tripped over a fucking penguin, from running away from another penguin who was trying to attack you.

“Get a grip, Y/N! Can’t you just for once in your life do something mundane? Something boring? Something that I don’t know, pays your bills without having to make a fool out of yourself?!”

“I like what I do, Jimin.”

You whisper in reply but you don't even know why you're whispering out of shame. No one had particularly called you out before, because everyone dear to you supports you — from your parents, to Hoseok, and to even previous co-workers who cheer you on.

Everyone dear to you loves seeing you do what you want to do — everyone except Jimin.

“For god’s sake, you were grooming sheep two months ago! Then a week after that, you were making soap and massaging people’s hands! Hell, even this month you’re working in that aquarium! You put on a scuba suit, wipe the glass, and for what? To swim with some fucking shrimp and shit like that?”

He's only been angry with you once, atleast what you know of, but it's now that you don't like Jimin the most. Perhaps you took his little smiles and breathless chuckles as affirmations that he loves what you do. Perhaps if you just looked a little closer without the blind expectation that everyone tolerates you because you could be a little too much for some, maybe you could've seen that the smiles were grimaces and the chuckles were groans.

“Y/N, I’m saying this because I care about you,” he runs his hand through his hair, exhaling deeply to look at you in the eye. “But please just grow up. You’re only a few years younger than me but just– look! Look! You graduated the top of your class for a real degree. Please do something useful.”

Please do something useful.

Do something useful.

Now do you realize that you can’t keep grazing your elbows on repainting daycares and have your pants frayed from volunteering at animal pounds. You can't keep doing spontaneous jobs for the sake of them because in simple terms, they're just not useful.

Jimin's perhaps the smartest guy you know and if it comes from him, you know to believe him. Perhaps he's the smartest guy you know amongst everyone dearest to you because from all of them, he's the only one that ever spoke to you this way.

In this brutally honest, albeit painful, way.

“Okay," you nod definitively, swallowing the lump the lump in your throat. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I should do something normal.”

Jimin purses his lips in regret because now that you put it that way, it sounds more cutthroat and unforgiving.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I think you should get going,” you squeak, humming to yourself as you turn away from him, vaguely pointing to the door so he could see himself out. “You made a good point. I just need to be alone right now, try to get my shit together, y’know?”

Jimin really should've kept his mouth shut.

He should've heeded Hoseok's advice to not ruin it for you. But judging by the way you avoid his eyes and walk away from him, he knows he's already done that and more. He doesn't want to leave but you want him to leave, and if it's any consolation for you to help ease the pain he's caused, he'll do it this time. “Okay.”

He doesn't know why he's still expecting at this point, but Jimin feels heavy getting out of your door — without a kiss on his cheek, and with the knowledge that he had hurt you.

( ♡ )

Unsurprisingly, Jimin hasn’t heard from you in awhile.

It's been almost a month that he hasn't seen you. He had apologized numerous times over text, to which you only reacted to with an emoticon but didn't reply to, and that was it. He felt uncomfortable to ask to see you in-person because even he is ashamed of himself, mad at himself if in case his presence reminds you of his words.

Yoongi's pissed at him because Jimin definitely does not have a say in what you do and what you love, especially considering that he isn't your boyfriend, regardless if your feelings for each other were requited.

Hoseok’s angry at him. Not you-just-hurt-my-best-friend angry, but "not only did you hurt my best friend but you also changed the trajectory of her life, possibly for the worst, even if she didn't ask you to" angry.

Jimin's also furious at himself for the most part. He was selfish and projected his own frustrations to you because perhaps there was a tiny little part of him that envied you.

The tiny little green part of him that envies just how much happy you are even if you earn much less than him. He likes his job and he likes his salary, don't get him wrong, but no matter how shallow he sounds when he admits it — doing the same stable thing felt like a routine more than it was a passion.

You're carefree and Jimin isn't and it's wrong for him to hate that. He loves his job and he hates that he just had to make you miserable by grounding you only to your degree. He hates himself for saying that neither of the things you've done are useful because he subjected you as comparison.

He risks it ultimately when one day he texts and asks to come over. He didn't know if you would be mad at him and terminate your communication completely because after all, he still has the gall to ask you that despite the things he did.

He didn't know what to feel when you reply in less than an hour and tell him to just let himself in with the keycard you’ve left at his place accidentally, because you’ll be running a little late.

It's all too familiar because this has already happened before.

He wishes that it's familiar.

When you come home and he's waiting for you on your couch, he didn't know how to react seeing you look so manufactured.

You're as beautiful as always even if you're in a corporate suit, from a pink button-up to a leather pencil skirt to a pair of high heels.

You're you and you recognize yourself more than he does, but to him, you look off. The version that stands in front of him is unlike you; you’re not wearing overalls or chicken shop uniforms or wearing anything that resembles you.

“What’s with the get-up?”

It takes a few seconds for the question to buffer in your brain, a genuine laugh leaving your lips as you shrug off your heels.

“I work in stocks now,” you clear your throat, adding to the silence when Jimin remains still. "I'm the top fund manager in my company. Yay."

Your anger for Jimin has already passed which is why you didn't hesitate letting him wait for you in your apartment. Sure, the anger did pass but the ghost of it remains.

You're thankful that he gave you a fresh new perspective, but you just wish he could've done it a little more gently. Delivered the take a little more coddling. You wish he gave you a little more time for you to come to your senses by yourself.

“I’m sorry for everything I said,” Jimin speaks thickly into the air, the gravity of his previous words now just singeing a little worse. “You shouldn’t have to change. You were happy doing what you love the most and I gave you shit for it.”

In your head you've already forgiven him. It was a new, brutal perspective he had given you out of sincere concern. Even if there's truth to his words and you've come to accept it, it didn't necessarily mean that he was solely on the right.

“I’m happy now,” you offer with a weak smile, shrugging your shoulders carelessly.

“I’m not as happy as I was, but I’m still happy now. Besides, I have like a ton of money now,” you add playfully, giggling to yourself. “I could pay my monthly rent and your clinic’s yearly lease and still have extra.”

Jimin tries to find it in him to laugh, the return of your giggles easing him a little, but it's just not the same.

He's not gonna try and take credit for your change, but he does know that he's a large variable. He's remorseful and the guilt still doesn't leave him even if you let him into your home, the thoughts playing out in his mind like clockwork.

He thought he hated your part-time jobs but now, he realizes that he remembers every single one. He remembers every single bit of them that you tell him, all from the quirks of your job to the flaws of it.

“But you’re not bottle-feeding baby goats," he murmurs, looking down on his lap. “You’re not in a ski resort wearing duck feet to make children look for you.”

Your resentment for Jimin for presenting you a realistic truth may have already passed, but he hasn't. He's still strongly, and irrevocably, angry at himself.

“Is this still you?”

You throw off Jimin in both the best and worst ways possible but nothing beats the relief you provide for him either, but he knows that for the time-being, he's not entirely deserving of the latter.

“Still me,” you nod, unable to keep the next words to yourself as it hits you once again. “Just a more rational, useful me.”

( ♡ )

You and Jimin don’t talk as much these days.

If you were to describe your current state, it would be steady. It’s not much, but it’s honest.

The two of you would be lying if you deny that your previous relationship was strictly in a friends with benefits state. You both knew and shown (he clearly did) just how concerned you are for each other, never skipping a beat.

It’s been weeks since he last dropped into your apartment to personally apologize and after a long, agonizing yet much-needed conversation, you weren’t even sure if the two of you would progress after basically calling off your previous status with each other.

Until Jimin shows at your doorstep at one in the morning, right before you go to sleep.

“Jimin? What are you doing here?”

He’s dressed up in formal wear, still complete with a boutonnière on the lapel of his suit jacket. His hair’s gelled back but it probably went through much action because now it looks a little unkempt, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol he had.

“I took home way too many brownies,” he blurts as if it would explain why he suddenly manifested at your front door at a godforsaken time, laughing at himself before clearing his throat. “I volunteered to be a wedding singer for my friend’s ceremony. He let me have the first pick at the reception buffet.”

“Cool. Thank you for these,” you chuckle at the suddenness of the situation, taking the silk-wrapped container from his hands. It’s heavy, really heavy, and it’s endearing to think how Jimin’s first thought was to give this much to you. “Huh. These are really... a lot, huh?”

“Yeah. I know you like experimenting,” he smiles, scratching behind his ear belatedly at the double meaning, “with flavors and things like that.”

He took atleast five of each flavor and the buffet table stretched long, ignoring the appalled looks from the servers behind the booths. He’s certain that he picked up enough food to last you for three meals a day, for atleast a week and a half.

Jimin looks at you while you look at him and he remembers, even if it’s never left his mind, that you’re his dreamboat. It’s not just the alcohol talking, but it’s his truth even before a single drop of liquor.

“I’m taking a one-month sabbatical.”

He pipes in, immediately getting a whistle from you because even at the dead of one in the morning, perhaps the two of you miss each other that you’re ready to talk about anything.

“One month? That’s huge.”

“Yup.”

The silence stretches and although it’s not comfortable, Jimin’s still thankful that he gets to spend it with you. The thing he wanted to talk to you about since this morning finally pops up, eyes widening in realization before he forgets.

“I’m part-timing as a water park attendant two days from now, by the way.”

You want to say you’re confused but the pieces fuse together before they even separate. Jimin takes a one-month sabbatical from his duties as a doctor and instead of resting, he’ll be using it to work.

He’ll be using it to work part-time jobs.

“Can I call you tomorrow for some advice?”

The smile appears in your face before you could even stop it. You’ve only tried part-timing as a diving instructor once, but atleast it’s in the aquatic industry somehow.

“I haven’t tried that job before.”

“We could try together,” Jimin offers, unable to resist a giddy smile that makes his eyes crescent. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Your mental calendar is long-checked by your mouth before you can even pretend to think about it, a chuckle leaving you in return. “I uh... I actually am.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you parrot, eyes unblinking while you stare at Jimin. The two of you must have been staring at each other for a minute until you’re interrupted by the sound of your floor’s elevator dinging, snapping you both out of your dazes. “Drive safe.”

You’re sheepish as you bid him goodbye, cutting the interaction short even if you think it’s the perfect end to your night, or rather the start of your morning.

Jimin hums in acknowledgment but just before he goes, even if it’s the first of many, and hopefully the rest in a greater and better context than this is.

He’ll make it up to you somehow.

He stays rooted in his position and you don’t make a move to close your door either. You’re about to ask him if he’s fit to drive himself home but just before you do, you tense in the same way as he did before.

Jimin kisses your cheek.

#ANDDDDD IT'S OUT <3 feedback pls and thank u mwah #jimin imagine #jimin oneshot #jimin oneshots #jimin angst #jimin angst imagine #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin au #park jimin imagine #park jimin oneshot #jimin scenario #jimin x you #bts jimin imagine #jimin fanfic

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kedreeva · 2 years ago

Note

Steve and Eddie reunite 15 years later. mood: bittersweet. >:)

(My askbox is open for ST prompts!)(Previous Prompts)

You think you're real stinking cute huh

------

Eddie nervously attaches the sticker with his name on it to his chest. He'd kind of expected they could write their own, but someone had already filled them all out with the approved guest list. Something to keep their hands busy, maybe. He regrets not bringing his own. He kind of regrets coming here at all, except that he's already here, and it would feel worse to run, bring up even more bad memories.

So he doesn't. He sticks his hello my name is sticker to his shirt and he strides into the school gym, and he holds his head up like he practiced. He notices the stares he promised himself he wouldn't, but he ignores them like he promised himself he would, and that's enough for now. That's enough bravery to count.

Nancy is already by the punch on the long refreshment table. She's got a bottle of water in her hands and her eyes meet his across the room, and she nods. She's not there to have any- she's there to guard the bowl. She's there to make sure people only take things out, not put things in. He sidles over between groups of chatting folks, and comes to a stop beside her.

"Wheeler," he greets.

"Munson. I didn't think you'd actually show."

He shrugs, one shouldered. "You either, hotshot."

Even in the low light he catches the pink in her ears. He hasn't seen her in a few years, not since she rabbited off to New York for her big reporting gig, and he'd finally caught a break, moved away from Hawkins. He still calls sometimes, leaves messages for her to let her know how things are, and she leaves the same kinds of messages for him. It's hard to talk, when he doesn't know what to say. It's harder not to talk, when there are so few who understand, when he knows how much they all need each other.

"It's been enough time," she says, smiling in her quiet way. "I guess I wanted to see if the scars were still here. Make sure they're still healing."

Eddie nods, knows the feeling. It's not about the healing, not entirely; it's about the festering. It's about making sure the infection stays gone, that it hasn't come back. That they did save the world, save this town, and that it stays saved. That no other children have to go through what they go through.

"Have you... seen anyone else yet?" she asks, attention turning to the group approaching her punch bowl. "Is he...?"

He shakes his head. If Steve's here, he hasn't found Eddie yet. "You?"

She nods in indication, and Eddie twists to see Robin across the room, hands around a red solo cup of punch, leaning close to a woman Eddie doesn't recognize. He wonders what happened to Rachel; the last new year's letter from Robin - a staged photo of her in a terrible sweater beside her girlfriend in an equally terrible sweater - he'd hung on the fridge so he'd remember her face. In vain, it appears.

"Jonathan's around somewhere," she adds, doling out punch still. "I think he was taking Argyle on a tour."

Eddie isn't sure if that means an actual tour, or a tour to someplace quiet to make out- it's hard to tell with Argyle. He'd love either option. Maybe it's both. Eddie smiles.

"How long are you in town?" he asks, accepting a cup of punch from her. She'd made one too many for the group moving away, or maybe she'd just made one for him on autopilot. It's not bad, a bit zingy.

"A few days." She picks up her own drink like a shield. "Visiting my family. Mike's back for the weekend, too, if you want to see him. He heard we were all coming back for the reunion and planned for it."

"Oh," Eddie manages. He'd expected to see Nancy and Robin, and even Jonathan and Argyle a little, but not- "Any of the others?"

Nancy shrugs, but there's an apology in it. "I only found out a couple hours ago that Mike was coming in."

Eddie nods, smiles. He opens one arm and she skirts the table to hug him, both of them careful of their drinks. She's as small as she ever was, and just as big. It feels like hugging sunlight, of touching the only good memories of this place. He kisses the top of her head because he can, because it's been so long since he got to, and lets her go.

"You should talk to Robin," she tells him as she returns to guard duty. He's pretty sure she's not even actually part of the volunteering group.

He nods, holds up his glass in thanks, and ambles back into the crowd. It's a few years worth of graduates; the devastation of the Upside Down the year he'd graduated had left very few of his classmates alive, and the lowerclassmen, either. Their years had been grouped, to even make the event worthwhile- one more healing scar in Hawkins, he supposes.

Robin sees him before he can get to her, and she practically launches herself at him from several feet away. He catches her, because there's no other choice, and lets the momentum of her hug spin them part way around. She squeezes almost tight enough to wind him, and smooches both his cheeks loudly.

"Can't believe you made it!" she exclaims gleefully. "I thought for sure you'd have a gig or an interview, or whatever the hell rock stars do these days."

Eddie blushes, the way he always does when friends make a point about his job, and doesn't correct her about the truth of the matter. "And miss a chance to see you?"

"Sweet," Robin tells him, "but I know who you're here for. I haven't seen him yet... Did you...?"

"I don't think he's here yet," Eddie says for the second time.

He's supposed to be, but just like the rest of them, coming back to this place after leaving it... Eddie hears of people saying they're homesick, hears people talk about how some things feel like coming home like that's a good thing. Coming back to Hawkins doesn't feel good. It feels terrifying. It feels like walking on thin ice in the spring, waiting for the drop, the icy chill of another disaster. It isn't a home- it's a pursuit predator, stalking after every step they take no matter where they go, and turning to face it - even for these people, even for the ones who fought side by side through it - is terrifying. He wouldn't blame Steve for skipping it.

He won't, because Steve's never turns away from terrifying things, but Eddie won't blame him if he does this time.

"Who's your friend?" he says, instead, and sees the flash of hurt in Robin's eyes that tells him Rachel hadn't ended well. He twitches a sympathetic smile before she turns away.

"Jessie," Robin calls, and the woman turns, eyes bright at hearing her name. She takes in Eddie, must recognize him, because she excuses herself from the couple she'd been entertaining in Robin's absence, and joins her in front of Eddie.

She holds out a hand, and Eddie even takes it politely; she's new enough not to hug him, then. "You must be Eddie. I've heard a lot about you.

"Ah, it's all true," he says with an open grin, the sort he gives after gigs when he's tired but friendly. The sort Robin clocks immediately and rolls her eyes at, though she doesn't call him on it.

"Even the bad stuff?" Jessie asks, but it's light. The sort of joke that doesn't know what bad stuff even is, and Eddie knows this one won't work either. It never does, not with someone that doesn't know.

"Especially the bad stuff," he says, just as light, and gives a little wink. "I'm sure I could tell you a story or two about Robin, later."

She smiles, looking at Robin like there might be a scandal. There's not, at least not one Eddie can actually tell her, but they'd had a few easier years after high school. They'd had a few good times, to sweeten the bad stuff. The road trip they'd all taken together around the US in '87, living in one another's pockets and getting into trouble, has a few good tales tucked into it.

Robin smiles back, and then tucks her drink into Jessie's free hand as if something's caught fire, and Eddie turns just in time to see him before Robin shouts over the crowd: "STEVE!"

He's standing at the entrance, sticking his little name tag where it used to sit at Family Video, and he looks up at the sound of her voice. Eddie sees his glance flick sideways, clocking Eddie, before he breaks into a broad smile for Robin and hurries to meet her in the middle. She pounces him worse than she'd pounced Eddie, and Steve catches her even more surely, still more than strong enough to hold her up, keep her feet off the ground entirely as he squeezes right back.

She laughs as he sets her down, and together they walk back to Eddie and Jessica. Eddie watches Steve glance over Jessica, come to the same conclusions as Eddie, and smile politely. She doesn't offer her hand to him, and he doesn't offer his, too busy looking at Eddie. Robin murmurs something to Jessie, who nods and leaves them, heading for the punch table.

"You came," Steve says, like he's actually surprised.

"You, too."

"Almost didn't." Steve shakes his head and looks around like an indication. "Coming back here..."

Eddie nods. "What changed your mind?"

"Dustin," Steve said, smile a little helpless even after all this time. "Said we couldn't hang out until I hung out with the rest of you."

"Maybe they made a pact," comes a familiar voice from behind Eddie, and he opens their small circle to include Nancy as she joins them. He glances over, sees Jessie is manning the guard post now. "Mike said the same thing to me. Pretty sure Will sent Jonathan."

"Am I the only one who wanted to come just to see all of you?" Robin quips, but her smile is genuine, and a little bit of a relief to see.

"We wanted to see you, Rob," Steve says, exasperated. "It's just..."

"We got away," Eddie says. "It wasn't all in one piece, but we all got away alive. Hard to come back when that almost wasn't the case."

She nods, looks down. "I know. But, there was good, too, wasn't there? We all found each other."

Steve takes her hand and squeezes gently, smiles over at Eddie and Nancy. "Yeah, we did. One good thing to come out of this place."

They stand quietly, palms on the open wounds of their shared past. Eddie's always appreciated visiting with the others here or there, the reminder that he hadn't imagined all of it. The scars are a strong reminder, but not a good one, not one he wants. But this? This he could do forever, even if it always leaves an ache in his chest, seeing even one of them. It's been fifteen years since they'd all last gathered in the same place. Too long.

"We should grab Jon and Argyle," he says, almost an impulse, definitely a desire. "Ditch school and grab dinner out together, like old times."

Nancy smiles, glancing between Steve and Eddie, and then holds out a hand to Robin. "I have an idea where the boys are. Come help?"

Robin takes her hand too quickly, and Eddie has to hide a smile. Still a thing, then. He nods his thanks to Nancy, and watches as they sneak off to the areas of the school they're not supposed to be in. Eddie laughs softly, runs a hand through his hair, and leans toward Steve.

"Maybe this time it'll take?"

Steve snorts, and nudges at Eddie's arm. "Robin won't go to New York, and Nance won't leave it."

"Ah, well," Eddie laments. He's not as convinced, but Steve knows Robin better than anyone.

Steve looks over at him, a fond smile on his face. "Look at you. You really are a hopeless romantic."

Eddie glances around, but they're off to the side, out of the way, out from under the lights. There's no one here that would look twice at them that hasn't already, so Eddie leans in close and murmurs quietly: "And whose fault is that?"

Steve turns his head enough to kiss the blush on Eddie's cheek, and gives him a wink as he puts his hands in his own pockets. "Pretty sure you were a sap way before you married me. Tried to set me up with Nancy because you thought-"

"Okay, okay, enough," Eddie laughs, shoving at him. "Flight was okay, though?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees. "Checked into the hotel. Big enough to take everyone back to, if we want to hang out."

Eddie nodded. He'd booked a suite, just on the hope they could all stay at least one night together. "They'll come," he says. "They miss us just as much as we miss them."

Steve smiles, not quite as bright as Eddie's used to, but better than Eddie had thought he'd get here. "I know. Let's go find them."

He holds out his hand, the gold band on it glinting in the shifting glow of the reunion lighting, and Eddie takes it with a smile. Together, they sneak off into the darkness to join their friends.

#Stranger things #stranger things 4 #Steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fic #my writing #LISTEN #you were not specific enough to avoid this twist #you can lead a ked to water but you can't make them fuckin drink #I WILL make things happy now #canon was sad enough!!#askbox prompts

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i-love-side-characters · 2 years ago

Note

Do you have any curaday headcanons?

plenty my good fellow!!!

on thing i feel like they definitely did (when they were younger) is go out for picnics and plays and things like that. just casual dates where they wouldn't really be seen by anyone but it would be them just enjoying the night out

also headcanon and fic idea? curie teaching faraday how to cook lmao that would be adorable and also lots of fun and definitely messy and hilarious

post 70-years curaday grabbing coffee together after conclaves (as friends) and gossiping and enjoying each other's company without any romance because friendship curaday also has my heart btw

faraday adopting a stray kitten that he found and curie complaining about the hair that it left all over her couches

when curie moved into her current house faraday helped her assemble all the furniture (lowkey imagine this but like it's sunny outside, queen is playing, they're laughing, there's furniture pieces everywhere, it's like 4pm, and curie is having the time of her life making fun of faraday's carpentry skills)

the two of them roaming through libraries and picking out books for the other to read?? hello

also i feel like they're both the type of people to find comfort in the little things? like remembering coffee orders, or like leaving little goodbye notes for each other and other people. just that kind of vibe to it

slightly more depressing?? someone bad defo happened to curie's grandma because no way she would just cut contact with her so imagine faraday comforting her about whatever happened :(

not fluff curaday: them getting into genuinely bad arguments after curie's granddame of death thing and feeling horrible about it but both of them are too stubborn to apologise so there's this long stretch in time when neither of them are speaking to each other.

that's all for now but i have lots more ideas!! tysm for the ask <3

i'm back!! here's my askbox

#asks #scottishgremilin #not main content #arc of a scythe #scythe curie #hs curie #scythe faraday #hs faraday #curaday #thank u sm for the ask!!#ik you sent this a while ago but im just catching up #i hope this is okay

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twistedmusings · 4 years ago

Text

My Kind of Human

Ramshackle stayed silent throughout the night, the moon and stars shining light into each room.

All except one.

I swear on my askbox that I am working on requests but this idea popped into my head and now it won’t leave and people always tell me to find a niche and I think my niche is angsty smut. And in this niche I will dwell ò uó. Aside from that, I’m very asexual so if my sexy scenes are bad you are more than welcome to roast me. Reader is [G/N] Warnings: Lemon soda (smut), possessive Malleus, bareback, dub-con and our good ol’ dragon boy just putting you under a spell so he can have you all to himself.

“Do you have someone special, Tsunotarou?”

Malleus stops walking as he looks down at your frame, your eyes staring up at the sky while you both are sitting down at the step of Ramshackle.

“Special?”

“Yeah.” you sigh as your eyes remain fixed on the stars, “Someone special. Like someone you wouldn’t trade for the world.”

His first thought is his Grandmother. She had taken over the role of ruler of the Valley of Thorns and had let him grow in a somewhat normal fae childhood. He had heard many stories of children being forced to take the throne early on in their life and how damaging that decision turned out to be not just for the country but for the child as well. He was glad that his Grandmother remained steadfast and strong. There was also Lillia. Lillia, despite his constant antics, was always a guiding hand for Malleus in things he did not understand. Even now, Lillia would lend an ear whenever Malleus had a question about social interaction. Whether he would get a straight answer or a joke, that was just up to the older fae.

“I have some people I consider that important.” Malleus looks up with you, “How about you, child of man?”

Your eyes remained fixed on the stars.

You nod, “I do.”

He laughs, “Is it your first year friends? I am sure Sebek would be glad to hear you say that.”

“He would yell in my face before telling me he felt the same, you know how he is.”

You two share a giggle before letting silence take over once again. “But it isn’t like that. The way I love Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel and Sebek is different from what I’m talking about.”

Malleus watches your eyes shine under the bright stars, some of them being reflected on your irises as you tilt your head and lean back to let your legs stretch out.

“I’m talking about a person who you can’t live without, you know?”

“I’m afraid I might need a bit more of an explanation.”

You shrug, “I can’t fully explain it without sounding crazy but…imagine you one day find yourself completely alone. There is not one single person who understands what you are going through nor do they bother because they might believe that it is too hard to comprehend. You find yourself so alone that you start getting used to that loneliness.”

The way your eyes sadden are not lost on him, copying your movements and leaning back so that he can stretch out as well. With how you are both positioned, your fingers are almost brushing.

That wouldn’t do.

You continue talking, not paying attention to how Malleus places his hand over yours.

“But one day someone comes in and changes everything.”

He lets himself feel the fluttering in his heart, having lost himself to this feeling a long time ago. The way his heart would beat faster when you smiled, when you laughed, how you would approach him without fear. From what Lillia had said, this was something akin to falling in love with someone. When asked who it was he was falling in love with, Malleus simply shook his head and avoided answering the question.

What he felt for you was not for anyone else to know.

“They just ‘get’ you.” you smile and close your eyes, “Everything thought you have, they somehow complete it. Long distances become shorter when you are with them and for a brief moment time just...stops. You find yourself yearning for this person and wonder if they think about you the same way, to the point of losing sleep. You want to be to them what they are to you.”

You tilt your head towards him.

“Am I making any sense?”

Malleus nods and sits up, “More than enough.”

He stares into your eyes, your color reflected back on his as he instinctively leans closer towards you. You were building up to something, he could feel it. The feelings you described, they were identical to the ones he felt for you. It hadn’t been that long since you came into his life but he couldn’t see himself not popping by Ramshackle dorm every night to share these talks with you. Malleus wasn’t necessarily that attached to you when you two first talked but the more you sought him out the more he opened himself up for you.

Your conversations, your little adventures, your attention.

It was all slowly consuming him and making him realize that you were no longer a human but his human.

The question slipped out of him faster than he could think of it.

“Who do you speak so highly of?”

You turn to look at him, your body leaning towards him as well that he allowed himself to dwell in his imagination for a few seconds. His own body covering yours as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer and asking him to take you with him the moment he graduated from this place.

“It’s kinda what I wanted to talk about with you tonight.” you sit up with him and grin excitedly, “Remember what I told you about Crowley trying to find a way home for me?”

He would answer your plea, taking your hand and kissing your palm before his lips made his way up your arm.

“Well...he finally found it.”

Malleus is pulled out his fantasy as he blinks twice, your smile shining just as bright as the stars above despite the awful revelation you had just given him.

“I’m going home, Malleus.”

You used his name. A part of him hoped that you would use his name when you two were in a much different and more favorable situation but you had just used his name to stab him in the heart with your wonderful news.

“I was just saying all this because--I can’t believe I’m telling you this--before I came here I had these feelings about this person. They are everything to me but I was almost afraid to admit it? And this distance just...it just solidified what I felt for them.”

He has to stop himself from reaching out to you and grabbing your wrist, thinking that the moment you got too far he would lose you forever.

“Crowley says that I am going to be able to go back next week. So I’m just preparing myself to tell them everything I felt.” You turn to him and hold out your hand to help him stand up, one of the many things that Malleus loved that you did solely because he had an excuse to touch you.

“I think a part of me just wanted to share this with you because I trust you. We’ve talked like this for so long that I think I just...tell you everything.” you smile sheepishly, “Which I hope you don’t mind, I did just spring it out of nowhere.”

You were leaving him.

“Tsunotarou?”

You were leaving him for someone else.

“Malleus?”

You were leaving and he couldn’t stop it. You had these sorts of feelings for someone else and he couldn’t stop it. You opened him up and you were going to close him as if you were able to make the decision without any repercussions. You weren’t theirs, you also weren’t yours, you were his---

A hand shakes him from his thoughts as he focuses in on your eyes, his heart melting when he sees panic in them.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? What did I do?”

He shakes his head and smiles as he takes your hand so you both could stand up.

“Nothing.” Malleus pats your head, your size difference being made apparent to him even more than before, “I guess this is goodbye?”

“No need to make it dramatic.” you lean into his touch, like a pet to their owner, “I’ll find some way for us to keep in contact. And if there isn’t--well then I will make one.”

“I feel the same.”

Malleus looks down and digs into his school jacket, smiling when you make a comment about this being a goodbye present. He puts a finger to his lips before pulling out a spool of thread, the top of the spool decorated with a sharp needle. “Give me your hand, child of man.”

You nod and smile, doing as he told. “Is this going to be a blood pact of sorts? You don’t seem like the type, Tsunatarou~”

He chuckles, “It is just a customary practice in the Valley of Thorns. Something that I believe will make our connection unbreakable.”

Malleus brings your finger closer, the tip touching the spool as he expertly pricked your finger. You hiss for a second before smiling as you wave your finger. “Strangest friendship ritual ever, but it is very you so I will gladly partake in it…”

A feeling of vertigo overtakes you as you lose your footing, your eyes closing as you feel yourself fall to the ground but finding yourself pressed against something warm.

“...Mal--?”

You try to look up at him but gasp softly when your legs are swept under you, Malleus picking you up bridal style as you feel your eyelids growing heavier. Almost as if it was a chore to keep them open.

“A true unbreakable connection.”

Malleus opens the door to Ramshackle quickly, looking behind to see if he would need to take care of any pests that had made their way to the old dorm. Without any in sight, he closed the door, the lights on Ramshackle’s doorstep snuffing themselves out as the smoke drifted up into the starry sky.

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

“Fgnaaa~!” Grimm yawns as he floats towards Ramshackle, yawning as he rubbed at his tired eyelids.

Hands roaming up and down your torso, slowly undoing buttons as your hands rested on his wrists. Sloppy kisses shared between two amateurs but in between said kiss there seemed to be a forced passion, a need for the person above you to communicate how much he had wanted you. He had been caught stealing some food from Monstro Lounge and Azul had put him to work just like before, it had been a redo of what happened in Octavinelle all over again.

Wanted wasn’t the right word, needed was the way to describe how he was feeling. His mouth traveled from your lips to your neck, your mouth opening up to let out a soft moan but being quieted down by his fingers slipping inside so they could rub against your tongue. You could barely keep your eyes open but with how you were looking at him, it almost made him believe that you were the one that initiated this.

“Hnng?” he looks to see the lights in Ramshackle are all off, his head tilting in curiosity. When did you start going to sleep this early?

Legs parted, eyes looking away, your chest rising up and down as his fingers pressed deep inside of you to rub and prod at whatever he found. He used his other hand to turn your face, your eyes meeting as he whispers a couple of words. A veil is cast over your eyes as he feels you open up like a flower for him. Hips grinding down to meet his fingers, arms opening to welcome him closer, his name falling from your lips making him eager to finally show you how he felt about you.

Grimm opens the door and yawns as he makes his way to the kitchen, licking his lips as he imagined what you had cooked for dinner that night. However, the only thing he finds are three deluxe tuna cans and a note that certainly wasn’t in your handwriting.

Your hold on him is tight, legs wrapped around his waist as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. Hands in his hair, going up his horns and then traveling down as he bit at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder blade in order to keep himself from pushing all the way inside. But your warmth was calling out to him, inviting him to push deeper and deeper until all you could feel was him and him alone.

Even with the magic affecting your brain.

“Don’t feel so good. Going to sleep early.” Grimm sits down on the counter and frowns as he opens one of the cans and starts munching down.

“Say you love me…”

You gasp as you feel him push your whole body up with his first thrust, the bed creaking in protest in your ears but no sound being heard outside of your door.

Were you sick? Grimm takes a giant bite and hums as he thinks. With him being this tired he would immediately go up to the room you two shared together and cuddle himself on your chest but if you were sick…

“I love you! I love you I love you--Malleus--!”

The sounds were all mixing together. Your moans, his groans, the protests from the bed and the wet slaps of his body meeting yours over and over again. You were so full, all the way up to your throat that the words he so desperately wanted to hear were spilling out despite you not remembering thinking of them. You were thinking of nothing. Every time you tried to think about what you were doing a sharp pain would stop you, instead keeping you attentive to the pleasure the soon to be ruler of the Valley of Thorns was giving you.

“You are mine, child of man. Body and soul...all of them mine!”

“Silly human. Getting sick like that. They should be taking care of themselves.” Grimm shakes his head as he keeps on eating the tasty treats you had left behind. If you had left something this good for him, he guessed he could forgive you.

Your toes curled as you felt something warm gush inside, lips covering your own and drinking up all the sounds you were making. He whispered something into your ear but you couldn’t quite make out what he said. Something about heirs and a kingdom. Was he telling you a story? He pulled away to look into your eyes, your brain moving your hands so that they would cup his cheek. Your comfort seemed to stir something inside him as he brought you closer, your arms now wrapped around him as you rested your forehead on his shoulder.

Ramshackle stayed silent throughout the night, the moon and stars shining light into each room.

All except one.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #g/n reader #diasmonia #lemon #lemon soda #tw//manipulation #tw//bareback #tw//dubcon #twisted wonderland reader #twst smut #available books

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years ago

Text

Quiet Music: Poco a poco forte

In collaboration with @bethanysnow (whose askbox is always open!)

Jealousy was never a good look with stardust in the other’s eyes. Boundaries are tested. Fantasies are made hot and heavy with some alcohol. Will they make it back to the hotel all in one piece?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 5845

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree

***

Copenhagen was a whirlwind that barely left any time to breathe. Even the short break Y/n was granted in between was promptly used to make a dash for the nearest tourist shop. Adding a fridge magnet to her growing collection. No misses so far. She’d be lying if she wasn’t proud of it. Victoria gave a little tour through the city, giving ample opportunity to provide the fans with content via various social media platforms. A mad scramble back to the venue, soundcheck, dinner. A gig full of little mishaps, including Ethan losing a drumstick halfway through and Damiano almost tumbling off stage. At least the crew had gotten into a groove, ‘new tour’ jitters finally forgotten. That night, at the hotel, Y/n had found herself standing outside her door, empty ice bucket in hand. Somewhat wondering, hoping, someone would join her. Not just anyone. Him. But she wouldn’t knock on his door and he didn’t come to hers. It wasn’t to be. At least not that night.

The morning had brought the band another wake-up call from Y/n. Everyone was starting to settle into their routine. Get ready, get on the bus, get handed coffee by Y/n. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying this little comfort of domestic bliss, taking care of the people she was starting to consider friends. It felt right.

***

Damiano’s morning wasn’t quite as peaceful. His thoughts were plagued by images of Y/n. His decision to ‘cool it’ and back off a little seemed to be biting him in the arse. When she had come around to wake him up, she had been in a partially sheer blouse, black jeans and boots and he thought she looked like the perfect little alternative housewife. Luring him out of bed with the promise of coffee and breakfast. Now he was sitting on the couch on the bus, watching Y/n fly around the little kitchenette and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her bum in those jeans.

Nope, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Not now. The conversation with Victoria two nights ago was still ringing in his head. He had decided she was right - no use in pursuing anything unless he was certain what he was feeling and what he wanted out of it. He would still have enough time to make his move once he figured it out. Right? He didn’t know what Y/n was thinking. Or what she thought of him, so no use dwelling on it. Still the thought struck him, he barely knew anything about her. He should probably talk to her more. Infallible logic, he thought to himself. Backing off and talking to her at the same time. Great.

“Y/n… how do you usually take your coffee, by the way?”

“Lots of creamer, usually. Sometimes a bit of sugar, if I’m feeling fancy. Or if I’m feeling really fancy at a café, I might get a caramel macchiato.”

“Caramel is always nice.” Of course, she would like caramel, he thought to himself. “Do you normally drink coffee or are you more or stereotypical British tea drinker?”

“I enjoy a cuppa when I’m home, definitely. Italians aren’t exactly known for their tea now, are they?” A smirk appeared on her face, maybe a little baffled by the conversation, but happy to humour him. “Lady Gray is a particular favourite. Followed by breakfast tea with some sugar and milk. Before coffee. I can make you some tea sometime if you fancy?”

“That’d be great. You know, I just had an amazing idea actually,” Damiano grinned. “When we first went to Berlin, there was this amazing tea shop - would you want to go when we have the gig there?”

“That sounds lovely,” Y/n replied. “Of course.”

Another step closer to getting to know her.

***

“Right, we’ve all got an hour until soundcheck and some press things, I’m gonna go take Chili on her walk, you lot do whatever you want until then.”

Y/n had expected a few non-committal grunts, a wave, maybe a “see you later, I’ll go have a nap”, but instead, the whole band seemed to be on their highest energy levels. All of them immediately scrambled to their feet, looking for shoes and jackets, proclaiming they wanted to see the city, maybe take some pictures for Instagram along the way. Y/n wouldn’t dare complain about the company.

It didn’t take them long to reach the harbour, walking along the river as they enjoyed the bustle of town and the view. Y/n found herself pulling out her phone, telling everyone to gather around her.

“I’m no photographer, but I do need some memories of all of this. Thomas, stop pulling that face!” Thomas quickly dropped the grimace as she took the picture, the historic old town in the background. Chili was busy running around between the five of them, loving whoever gave her the attention the most. Y/n thought Victoria was reaching for the leash, already preparing to hand it over, but instead the bassist grabbed her hand. Obviously in a giddy mood, she began swinging their intertwined hands between them as they walked. Y/n couldn’t bite back a smile. She had missed having a close friend ever since she had moved to Italy leaving her best friend behind in the UK and she felt like this blossoming friendship with Victoria could truly begin to fill the void in her heart.

The blonde girl pulled her into a deep hug as Chili decided to go bother Ethan instead.

“I want a photo with just you,” Vic explained, pulling out her own phone for a snapshot. Y/n complied with a sigh but wrapped her arms around her, ready to take the picture. Right as the click went off, Victoria pressed a kiss to her cheek, taking her by surprise. Neither of them could hold back a giggle at her face in the photo.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, by the way,” Y/n spoke up as a little break in the conversation offered itself. If only to distract from the affection and it worked perfectly. All eyes and ears on her. “I’ve booked a little dinner for tonight. But not just any dinner. A burlesque one!”

The group let out various cheers. Thomas immediately ran ahead of the group, shamelessly faking a striptease as they kept walking. Damiano made sure to record the performance, already giggling to himself. Thomas was in the middle of shrugging off his jacket, walking backwards, when - ouch! - he bumped into a pole, heavily bonking his head. Everyone erupted into hysterical laughter, and after rubbing the back of his head with a pour for a moment, even the guitarist joined in.

“You alright?” Y/n asked breathlessly, trying to hide the giggles in her voice, genuinely concerned about him still.

“Besides the fact that I just got all of you to drop your panties for me? I’m great!” The blond grinned at his own joke, as everyone else rolled their eyes.

“Yes! Oh my god, take me Thomas!” Damiano gasped dramatically, pushing himself up against Thomas, who grabbed onto his leg to dip him.

“Wait! Hold on!” Y/n shouted, once again grabbing her phone as the captured the moment. “Now that’s one for the fridge.”

***

Backstage was business as usual. Y/n once again took the time to watch the band soundcheck, always feeling soft looking at the way they played without having to be ‘on’, without putting on a big performance. Yet, she was still in work mode, phone displaying the name of a reporter she was waiting on, along with the name of the magazine she was working for. It didn’t take long for her to appear.

The woman was undeniably beautiful. Thin figure, long, red hair, picture perfect makeup. Even her clothes were pressed, luxury brands decorating her, adding to the pristine image. A press pass hung around her neck, acrylic nails tapping something into her phone. Leaning back, Y/n noticed the particular red leather on the bottom of the woman’s heels.

It was only after putting her phone away that she acknowledged Y/n at all.

“Anywhere I can sit down with the band?” Her eyes barely even met Y/n’s.

“Uh, yeah, once they’re done with soundcheck, they will be in the greenroom,” Y/n said, mustering the woman. “You the reporter?”

“Sure, sure. Can I go there now, sit down, get ready?”

Y/n studied the press pass on the woman’s neck, making sure she was actually the person they were looking for and shrugged. “Alright, follow me.”

She led the reporter further backstage. The greenroom was fitted with a couch and a couple of chairs, a vanity in front of the mirror and makeup already carelessly thrown around. A costume rack in the back.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” the woman muttered, looking around the room, obviously dissatisfied with it’s slightly chaotic state and - probably - lack of style. “That’s all I need you for, then.”

Y/n’s eye twitched, busying herself with the clothes, reorganising them to distract herself.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but rules are rules. Can’t be in a room alone, privacy reasons and all that. I’m sure you understand.”

“Well then.” She carefully placed herself on one of the chairs, highly aware of her posture, her face, and the fact that she’d be right in view of everybody entering the room. “Maybe you can be a bit of help, then. You know, a little insider information between us girls… How into the whole, you know, rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle are they really? I’m talking, drugs, alcohol… groupies?”

It was no question as to what she was hinting at.

“Well, Damiano has a whole tattoo verifying that he hates parties. Plus, they’re not really known for that kind of stuff. And for the interview, I’d rather you stick to the approved questions that your magazine has discussed with our management. There’s no ‘insider information’ here -” Y/n was about to talk herself into a whole rant, when the door opened and the band moved into the room, joyous and hyped for the show that evening.

Victoria was the first to bounce over to Y/n, kissing her cheek, before collapsing on the couch next to her. Ethan, Thomas and Damiano followed suit. Chili had followed the band, now hopping onto the couch and making herself comfortable on Y/n’s lap. Ethan looked over at the reporter, brow raised. “You here to do the interview?”

“Oh you know it,” she winked. Y/n didn’t miss how her whole demeanour had changed and she couldn’t have been more annoyed. “Lovely to meet you all.”

She held out her hand to Ethan, the smirk never leaving her face, before greeting the others in a similar fashion. She held onto Damiano’s hand much longer than the others.

“Nice to meet you,” Damiano said, politely, sitting down as well.

“Oh, that’s no trouble at all,” she beamed at the singer. “Now, you’re here in Hamburg today, and in the part of town most notorious for having Europe’s largest red light district. Do you feel like that’s the perfect background for your gig tonight? You know, with the music you play and the way you dress - it’s not like you’ve been shy about sex in your career so far.”

They all chuckled slightly.

“Well, sexuality isn’t something to be ashamed about, at least we don’t think so. It’s part of everyday life and part of our own experiences so we put that into music,” Victoria eloquently explained. “And what we’ve seen of the city so far has been very beautiful.”

“Well, maybe I should give you a little tour then, show you the naughty parts of town,” she laughed. “Back on topic though, I imagine touring can be hard, being away from everyone. Do you ever get lonely on tour? For friends or… something else?”

Damiano coughed. “Sure, we get lonely, like anyone else would. But we make a family out of the crew. Everyone on our team is very close to us.” Y/n could clearly see in his eyes that he knew full well what the woman was hinting at. “We love touring, so when you love something, it doesn’t feel like work.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. Y/n could see through all of them easily - none of them wanted to be there.

“Yes, of course, touring can be difficult, but we have fun, so not that bad,” Thomas added.

Y/n didn’t miss the way the reporter briefly looked over her shoulder to muster a reaction from her. “Well I’m sure you’re easily able to find some fun away from your… crew. Lots of parties on tour so far?”

At that point, Y/n was ready to rip the reporter to shreds. But she knew she had to stay professional, and the band was more than able to hold their own, so she stayed quiet. Ethan next to her sat up a little, obviously uncomfortable.

“No, we don’t party. No time.” His vision went dark as he looked at the woman in front of them. As kind and mindful as he usually was, he didn’t shy down when it came to showing his scarier side when he needed to.

“Yeah. We sometimes go to a bar on a day off, but that’s about it. Work is more important,” Victoria threw in as she put an arm around Ethan on the back of the couch.

Y/n felt a wave of pride at the way the band was holding up. It was absolutely no secret to her that they were desperately waiting for this interview to end, annoyed with the reporter and the lines she kept trying to cross, but they stayed polite and professional. She thought that this was what made them real rockstars in that moment.

“Okay, one more question, then. You entered this business really young, you still are, yet you write quite mature music, how do you manage that?”

“We write what we want to write. Perform how we want to perform. I don’t think that has an age limit,” Damiano spoke curtly. His eyes flickered over to their assistant. Y/n was sure he didn’t miss the way she was staring daggers into the back of the reporter’s skull. “And music has always been a passion of ours. We just got lucky really early in life, I guess.”

“Well thank you very much for your time,” the reporter said, standing up, and once again reaching out her hand to say her goodbyes. “Hope to see you around…” As she came to Damiano, Y/n didn’t miss how she stuffed a little note in his hand. “...hopefully.”

“Can I go kick her face now?” Y/n stood up, seething, as soon as the reporter had left the room. “Sorry, no, that’s actually rude. But I’m going to call management and report that woman.”

“Yeah, that… wasn’t cool,” Ethan contemplated. “How about you make that call and then we take your mind off it with the dinner show you booked for us, yeah?”

Y/n took a deep breath, looking at Ethan, whose eyes had turned back to show nothing but kindness. She couldn’t wait to forget about this disaster for the rest of the evening and enjoy herself. With the band in tow, she was sure she would.

***

Damiano hadn’t been quite sure what to expect from dinner that evening - but it wasn’t a table smack in the middle of the first row right in front of the stage. He should have seen it coming, really. When Y/n planned and schemed, she always made sure to get them the best of the best. Determined to make sure everyone was having fun. She truly took care of them like no other.

A waiter was at their table in no time, taking orders for drinks and food, and the openers started before Damiano even had a chance to take a sip of his wine. As soon as it became obvious that the first act of the evening would be pole dancing. The rest of the band started snickering, nudging Damiano’s side. Still, they all watched in amazement as the dancer started their performance, music filling the room.

“You know, I could do that,” Damiano whispered in Y/n’s ear as he leaned in close. She looked over at him - at the performer - back to him.

“Sure you can,” she giggled.

“Oh I can,” Damiano insisted, leaning in closer than necessary now. “And in heels.”

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from coughing, choking ever so slightly on her drink, as her eyes widened and a slight shade of pink appeared on her face.

Damiano simply couldn’t help himself. He knew he had meant to back off, give her a little space, give himself some time to think, but the words simply slipped out. “I can always offer you a private show, you know?”

This time, she only paused for a moment before whispering back, “You teach me pole dancing, I’ll teach you rumba, yeah?”

Fuck, he hadn’t expected her to get the upper hand so quickly. Still, he never once lost his smirk, murmuring a “sure” back at her. She had gotten back her cool, focusing back on her meal now, only looking up to watch the performance every now and then in between bites. She was making it way too hard for him to back off. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him.

Leaning back into his chair, Damiano watched the performer on stage. They were beautiful, no question about that. Amazing at what they did. It was impossible to keep your eyes off them, even Y/n kept getting distracted. He wondered if she’d look at him the same way if it was him up there. Or if he did a little show himself that night, on stage at their own gig. Catching her attention like the dancer was doing now. Maybe making her lose her mind a little bit. It was worth a try…

The performance was over much too quickly for his liking and only shortly after, the main dancer of the evening was announced to go on stage soon. It didn’t take long for the lights dimming, before fading to black completely. A hush falling over the crowd. A spotlight found a petite, blonde bombshell in the middle of the stage. Perfectly sculpted hair, blue boa feather skirt, a glitter corset that dripped with silver and gold accents. She seemed to be glistening under the stage light, body glitter accenting all the right curves and features. Then she turned around.

Damiano’s jaw dropped - along with just about everyone else’s. She was così bella, un angelo. She walked to the front of the stage as the crowd cheered and whistled. Damiano was enraptured by her. She was mystifyingly beautiful. Each move was carefully planned out, knowing exactly what she was doing and how to do it. She was feeding off the crowd, spurred on by the shouts and comments, as she moved across the stage.

Damiano’s eyes followed her closely. He felt hypnotised by her performance. He had never given burlesque much thought, but this show was changing his mind rapidly. The only thing to pull him out of his was a sigh - a disgruntled noise maybe - coming from his left. It was hard to make out Y/n’s face in the dark, he realised as he turned towards her. But if he’d learned anything about her body language in the past days, he was certain that she wasn’t happy. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she was leaned back in her chair in a way that tried to suggest she wasn’t bothered. But she was. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He was distracted when the dancer was back in front of their table, looking down at them from the stage. She sent all of them a wink, before pulling the elbow-length gloves off one by one and throwing them to the side with a smile. She mesmerised him, even as she moved away from them to give another table some attention. Yet, Y/n was playing at the back of his mind.

Why did she seem so mad? She was the one who had booked this dinner, why wasn’t she having fun? Was she still preoccupied with the reporter from before? Sure, that one had definitely stepped over lines, but he thought they’d all gotten out of there pretty unscathed. And the reporter's number had wandered into the bin immediately. He considered the matter closed.

The woman on stage slowly lowered herself into a split, causing pretty much the whole audience to lose their minds. This was too good. More cheers and applause from everywhere. Damiano heard Vic shouting vague words of encouragement as the woman lost her bra, only pasties covering her nipples now. Y/n let out a little groan and from the corner of his eye, he could see her rolling hers. This time, Damiano wasn’t the only one who noticed. He watched as Victoria and Ethan exchanged looks, then nods, and finally shrugs.

Finally the performance ended, the dancer leaving the stage with another wink and kiss blown towards them. Damiano wished it could’ve gone on for longer. These people knew how to turn sex into art, and he’d by lying if he said it didn’t inspire him.

“Okay, gather up, no time to waste,” Y/n order, getting up from her seat the second the lights were turned back on. “You have a show to play and I don’t want you to be late.”

Damiano threw another look around. Even Thomas, who had been too preoccupied drooling over the dancer to notice anything else, was now staring at Y/n questioningly.

“What’s going on with her?” The guitarist asked as they all gathered their stuff and followed their assistant outside.

“Fuck if I know,” Damiano mumbled. “But I wanna find out, sooner or later.”

***

It wasn’t like her to be jealous. She didn’t care much about what other people found enthralling. But Damiano had looked at the dancer as if she was god’s gift to humanity. Yes, she was pretty, yes, she knew how to shake her arse. Was it all that special? The dancer was petite, a perfect fit for Damiano’s arms. A perfect figure to match his. Y/n was confident, she knew she was beautiful, but unfortunately the rest of the world didn’t always think the same. Unlike the dancer on stage. That woman was more than beautiful… She was palatable, sexy, perfect in all the ways a woman should be. Qualities that Y/n was currently convinced she didn’t possess any of.

Okay, maybe she was jealous. But she didn’t have any right to be. The dancer was simply doing her job. And so what, if Damiano had fancied her? It wasn’t like they were together. She worked for him, that was all. She didn’t have any right to want anything from him beyond that.

The fresh air hit her face as she left the venue, forcing some clarity onto her. She’d have to get a grip and get back to focusing on her job. It’s what she was there for, after all.

***

Victoria bounced over the Y/n as she left the venue, full of adrenaline and happiness from the show she had just watched.

“That was amazing, Y/n! Where did you get the idea for this being today’s dinner?” She asked, hooking onto the assistant’s arm.

“Looked up places we could go online, found this one in a travel blog. Said it had amazing wine so I thought we could check it out,” she explained without looking up from her hands, which were toying with the receipt.

“Well, you sure do have impeccable taste,” Victoria grinned and kissed her cheek. It seemed to pull Y/n out of her head enough to look up at the bassist. But Vic’s smile vanished quickly when she saw the look in her eyes. It was cloudy, gloomy, enough to make Victoria freeze up. Thomas was excitedly chattering about the show in the performance in the background, how hot he thought the performers were, especially the last dancer. Damiano eagerly agreed. Y/n’s seemed to have a flash of venom on her face, and suddenly it clicked in Vic’s mind. Oh, she knew that look well, had carried it herself a couple of times in her life.. She was jealous. Y/n was jealous of the way they all - or maybe, someone in particular - had reacted to the woman on stage. And she was doing a bad job hiding it.

As soon as the car pulled up, everyone scrambled to get it. Y/n immediately started bouncing her leg, still a stormy look in her eyes. If it didn’t seem so serious, Victoria would be amused at the state their assistant was in. Yet, with the expression on her face right then and there, the bassist didn’t dare make a joke.

Damiano was sitting next to Y/n, and Victoria desperately tried to catch his eye. It took a slight kick against his shin to get him to look at her. She flickered eyes back and forth between Damiano and Y/n, motioning him towards the woman. Hoping he would understand. Luckily, they’d long gotten used to reading the other’s face, no need for a verbal conversation. Damiano looked down at Y/n’s hands, still picking at the receipt, and he quickly grabbed one of them. Interlacing their fingers and offering her a smile when she looked up. Her leg stopped bouncing immediately.

“You alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah. Am now.”

Victoria couldn’t bite back the smile on her face, quickly turning towards her phone to be less oblivious. Those two would do just fine, sooner or later, she was sure of it.

***

The concert venue was smaller than some of the others they’d been playing on this tour, but if anything, it had caused the crowd to be even more rowdy. Y/n once again sat to the side of the stage, engrossed in her phone. Damiano snuck a peek through the curtain, before retreating and watching Y/n instead. She didn’t seem half as gloomy as she did at the dinner show. But a certain forlorn quality was still obvious. She had never been this type of obviously sad or upset before. At least not to his attention. Well, he was determined to get her to laugh tonight. Whatever had ruined her mood, he was going to fix it.

The band was getting hyped up, gathering around, some last minute fixes to their instruments among excited chatter. Yet, apparently, it hadn’t been only him who noticed Y/n’s mood. Once again sharing a look with Ethan, Victoria motioned her head over to their assistant. He nodded, before walking over to Y/n, taking her by the hand to get her to stand up, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Victoria quickly followed suit, then Thomas, who had caught on. Damiano quickly gave a wink before kissing her forehead instead.

“For luck!” He shouted, as he ran on stage, welcoming the crowd. A quick look back confirmed a bashful smile on her face.

Everyone was on fire that night, even Y/n seemed to let go of her bad mood more and more. Damiano didn’t miss the way she sang along to their cover of ‘Take Me Out’, obviously getting into the show more than previous nights. Knowing all the lyrics, dancing ever so slightly… Damiano realised he really had it bad for her.

He decided to go for it during “For your love”. With a pointed look towards her, he slowly started rolling off one arm of his jacket. Then the other. A little mock burlesque show of his own, dramatically shimmying his shoulders as he got rid of the jacket completely. The crowd more than appreciated his little performance, judging by their screams. The rest of the band was eating his energy up, playing harder, going crazier. As Damiano jogged over to grab some water, he didn’t miss the opportunity to turn his back towards Y/n, shaking his arse in a bad attempt at twerking. Turning back, he could see that she was desperately trying to bite back a smile. But he wasn’t done yet.

Making sure she was still looking at him, he began playing with his microphone. Giving it a teasing lick and sending her a wink at the same time. Watching her as he let his hand rest on his chest, slowly wandering lower with a teasing touch, until it rested in his lap. He only managed to keep it up for a second, before he couldn’t hold back the laugh at her expression anymore and turned back towards the audience.

But apparently, Y/n had some trick of her own. Well, it seemed like she wasn’t even aware of them, but they worked on Damiano all the same. She was taking her hair out of the pony tail for the night and he thought the way it cascaded around her face was beautiful. He felt like a movie cliche, watching as the main character let her hair down and everything suddenly happened in slow motion. Yet, here she was, trying to shove a bobby pin back into place, and he was losing his shit. He thought it was ridiculous though. The crazier her hair went, the crazier he went about her. She swayed to the music and for a second Damiano could swear time stood still.

I wonder if she likes her hair pulled… The thought distracted him to the point that he forgot what he was singing, quickly covering it up by animating the audience to sing it instead. He was glad to be nearing the end of the set. He’d never wish to go off stage, per se, but Y/n was once again occupying his thoughts and the way she was moving to the music now didn’t help.

Another song, another bow towards the audience, another well-practised “Danke!”, and they were off stage. Damiano briefly considered going over to Y/n, only to see Thomas basically chasing her away, threatening her with a sweaty hug. Her slightly panicked squeals proved she wasn’t a fan of the idea. He didn’t mind. He’d make sure there’d be more time to catch up with her later.

Briefly dropping into the dressing room, Damiano grabbed his cigarettes and a hoodie, before heading outside for a smoke. The backstage door led to a quieter alley than the famously busy Reeperbahn on the other end. But there were still more than a handful of people walking past, singing, dancing, shouting into the night, beer bottles in hand. It didn’t take long for everyone else to join him. Ethan headed outside first, bumming a cigarette off the singer, before Thomas and Victoria followed. They were once again involved in some sort of mock argument. Y/n stepped outside a minute later, phone in her hand, already back to work-mode and probably checking the plan for the next few days. Everyone was still on a high from the gig, chatting and giggling, but Damiano felt himself taking a step back. He loved watching his friends, loved what they did, loved that he got to do it with them. And now Y/n too, in a way. Not even a full week in and he knew that this tour wouldn’t have been the same without her.

He was rapidly pulled out of his thoughts as a group of men came towards them, obviously way past drunk. Yelling and hollering for no reason but to be annoying and get everyone’s attention. Damiano hated those kinds of drunks. In his experience they were nothing but trouble. He had half a mind to retreat back inside before they reached the group, but even in their inebriated stupor; they were quicker than expected.

“Now, who are these beautiful girls?” One of them slurred, stepping forward.

“Yeah! Bet you give a man a good time,” another one laughed loudly. “And a cheap one too.”

One of them was moving closer now, almost touching Victoria - but without even a moment to process what was happening, Y/n acted. Damiano watched, fascinated, as she grabbed the man’s extended hand, twisting it around his back and shoulder checking him into the brick wall of the alley. No second thought, no hesitation. Shouldn’t the men have been the one to react and take care of their girls? Well, it didn’t seem like Y/n was one to wait to be saved.

In a tone that he had never heard before - and neither had the rest of the band judging by their reactions - Y/n spoke, “You couldn’t afford me, mate. Or my friends. So I’d take your piss drunk self elsewhere, m’kay?”

The men were gone faster than lightning, stumbling to find their footing as they ran, only starting to comment on how she was a “fat fucking bitch” and how they “wouldn’t have wanted her anyway” when they were far enough away. Y/n wordlessly rejoined the group.

Damiano found himself releasing a breath. The whole scene had been over so quickly, he barely registered it. He wasn’t the only one either, he realised. As the other three kept staring at her, amazed and maybe slightly intimidated, while Y/n didn’t even react.

However, Damiano wasn’t just mesmerised by her behaviour. He was thrilled by her - in more ways than one. The way she had handled herself was downright hot. She was fierce, self-confident, and strong. He couldn’t keep himself from contemplating whether this was a side she would let out in the bedroom as well. Was she the type to take control? Order him around? Push him to a wall like she’d done that guy, only with very different intentions? He would be 100% okay with taking orders from her, he decided.

Y/n finally looked up from her phone, apparently feeling everyone’s stares on her.

“...What. I told you I worked security before.” She looked at Victoria, quietly asking her if she was alright. She simply nodded. Damiano still couldn’t keep his eyes off of their assistant. Damn, that woman had more to herself than she let on.

***

Damiano was still thinking about it an hour later. After everyone had gathered their stuff and gotten back to the hotel and split up into their rooms. After he’d gotten in the shower. His mind was still running wild. He quickly turned the water to cold, letting out a hiss at the change in temperature, but he knew he didn’t have the time or the privacy to do anything about his thoughts. Neither would he be knocking on Y/n’s door, desperate for some kind of attention.

Not tonight.

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