#it’s my annual time of the year where I dream of taking off and leaving without telling a soul

[artificial-condition]

I’ve been hit with The Gloom

[scoonsalicious]

Like A Fairy Tale

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true.

Warnings: Language to make Steve blush, mentions of alcohol use, implied sex, angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.4k This is my very first posted fic, and I am very nervous but I hope you like it! If I've missed any warnings, please tell me so I can add them. Much love and thanks to my bestie @jmeelee for indulging my obsession and dropping everything to read this when I sent it to her <3 Please pardon any spelling/grammar errors.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3 I write for 18+, so minors DNI. _____________________________________________________________

Once upon a time, being Bucky Barnes’ girl had felt like living in a fairy tale. He was everything your younger self had ever dared to dream of in a Prince Charming– attentive, affectionate, kind, and oh, how he made you laugh! You were the envy of all of your friends, the very definition of #couplegoals, and you thanked your lucky stars every night that the two of you had found one another, despite all the odds.

But fairy tales aren’t real. 

You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but somewhere in the third year of your relationship, after you’d moved into a handsome brownstone in Brooklyn together, after you’d adopted a fluffy white kitten, Bucky started pulling away from you. The steps that took him from you were small at first– he was taking on more and more missions, opting to stay gone for longer periods of time. Days would go by, and they’d turn into weeks, then a month or two at a time would go by where you wouldn’t see him. 

At first, it hadn’t been terrible– Bucky had always made sure to contact you each and every day. A video call whenever he could, a phone call or text when he couldn’t, but slowly, so slowly you barely noticed, the calls stopped coming all together. Sure, he’d answer when you called him… when he could, which wasn’t always possible on a mission, and you hated acting needy and taking him away from his work, so eventually, you stopped reaching out, too. 

When he was home, you were like ships passing in the night. You always offered to take time off of work so you could spend some time with him before he was set to head out again, but he never wanted you to jeopardize your career on his account. Your reunions would always be passionate, but short-lived, a few hot and heavy nights before he took off once more to save the world. 

You tried not to let it bother you. You really, really did. His job was so important. People’s lives relied on him. Where did you get off getting upset over that? So, you kept it to yourself. Until you couldn’t. Not any more.

“Y/N,” your best friend, Lainy, cornered you at her annual New Year’s Eve party, “where’s Barnes? He’s been leaving you to go solo for months now. I don’t think I’ve seen you with him since Mark’s St. Patrick’s Day Party.”

Ouch. “He’s working, Lainy,” you told her, not wanting to admit that March had been the last time the two of you had gone out together, let alone spent more than three days in a row in each other’s company. 

“Yeah, he was ‘working’ over the Memorial Day trip, and the 4th of July BBQ, and Jack and Alice’s wedding, and your aunt’s funeral.” You cringed internally as she applied air quotes to ‘working.’ “And he was ‘working’ on your birthday, and Christmas. Babe, he’s been leaving you alone for almost an entire year. What’s going on? Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”

The worst part was, you knew there wasn’t, or at least, no one individual. When he’d first started distancing himself, of course another woman was the first thing that came to your mind, and you weren’t proud of yourself, but you’d gone through his phone to search for evidence of an affair… multiple times, and repeatedly came up with nothing. And bless Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t have the technological know-how to hide an infidelity from you. Granted, that didn’t negate the possibility that he was randomly hooking up with people while he was away. You’d have to be stupid to not consider the possibility.

You could have asked Steve. You didn’t think Captain America had it in him to lie to you about something like that, but you didn’t want him reporting on your suspicions back to Bucky, nor did you think you could stand to see the look of pity in his eye if he had to tell you that yes, Bucky was cheating on you while you anxiously awaited his return every night. So, you kept the suspicions to yourself. 

Your conversation with Lainy had left you deflated. Here it was New Year’s Eve, and you were alone, the man you loved god knew where– just not with you. How many more holidays and milestones and everyday nights were you going to spend by yourself, waiting for a man who never seemed to want to be home with you anymore? This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted, the kind of life you deserved. 

You made your way to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine. You’d probably already had too many, but you needed to drown the despair that was slowly filling you up. As you poured an exceptionally generous glass, a man entered the kitchen. You recognized him– Harris, a cousin of Lainy’s who had flirted with you relentlessly for years before you had started seeing Bucky. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, “it’s been awhile.” He enveloped you in a friendly hug. “How’ve you been?”

You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, catching up on the overall brushstrokes of your life. 

“I’m sorry about your breakup,” he offered gently, after you’d exhausted the usual small talk.

“My breakup?” you asked, brow piqued.

“Last few events I’ve seen you at, you’ve been alone. I assumed you and Barnes…” he left the thought floating, the implication hanging in the air: Barnes has left you alone, I assumed you broke up.

You huffed out a laugh. God. Was your relationship actually over and you were the only one dumb enough to not see it? 

“If you aren’t seeing anyone,” Harris continued, “I would really love to take you out. You’ve gotta know I’ve been into you for ages, and I figure if I don’t shoot my shot now, who knows when I’ll have another chance.”

You cocked your head and looked at him, taking in his earnest demeanor. Here was a man who genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Why were you waiting on someone who no longer wanted to be around?

“Um, I might have to get back to you on that, Harris,” you told him before excusing yourself. You needed air. 

You found yourself on Lainy’s balcony, the air deceptively mild for the end of December in Manhattan. Alone with your thoughts, you pulled out your phone and dialed Bucky’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

“Someone asked me out on a date tonight,” you said into the recording, your voice choked with tears you didn’t want to shed. “And I think I might say yes, because, honestly Buck, what are we even doing anymore? You’re never here, and I’m always alone. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to not let it get to me, because your work’s important. I know that. I do, and I’m not begrudging you for your job. But… but I can’t keep on like this. I can’t even remember the last time we spent more than three days together. Isn’t that crazy? Three days. Everyone thinks you’re cheating on me. Did you know that? You’re away so much that everyone I know is convinced you’re fucking someone else. Maybe you are, or maybe you already left me, but I’ve been too stupid to notice; if that’s the case, you could have just told me.” 

You kept your composure as you left the message. You weren’t angry at him; you never could be. You were just tired. So tired, and so lonely. 

“All I know is that it’s another night where I’m all by myself, wishing you were here, wanting to talk to you, to feel you, and you’re just… not. You’re off doing something, or someone, more important than me, and I used to be okay with that, but I can’t be anymore. I deserve more than waiting on you, Buck. I deserve to be someone’s priority. I really wish I could have been yours, the way you were mine. 

“So, let’s just call it, okay? Your heart’s obviously not in it anymore, and mine is too tired of being hurt and alone. We’ll have to figure out what to do about the house. I’m keeping Alpine, though. You haven’t been here for her, either, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to take her if you’re never going to be around.”

Inside, you could hear the rest of the party as they counted down to midnight. When they reached zero, the night erupted in fireworks, and you could hear cheers and cars honking their horns throughout the city below you.

“Huh,” you said into your phone, “it’s midnight. Happy New Year, Buck. I hope it ends up being a good one for you, and I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you decide you didn’t want to spend this last one with me.”

You hung up the phone and the tears finally fell as you slid down the balcony railing until you were crouched on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying, but eventually Lainy found you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and ushering you into her spare room. She helped you change out of your cocktail dress and into a spare pair of pajamas, and helped you wash your face before tucking you into bed. She left you with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead, promising that tomorrow would be better, that the next best chapter of your life was about to begin, but as you drifted into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t find the will to believe her.

You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache, the alcohol and the tears doing nothing but dehydrating you into agony. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but the battery had died in the night. From the slant of the sun coming in from the guest room window, it looked to be late morning or early afternoon. 

You changed back into your dress, thanking Lainy for her help and making a small joke about doing the walk of shame in your clothes from the night before. You avoided her questions about what had happened, promising to go over it at length at the weekend after you’d had some time to process. You weren’t in the best headspace to get into at the moment.

Fortunately, your best friend knew you well enough not to pry, and you said your goodbyes, plans for brunch on Sunday having been made. You weren’t eager to get back home, to be surrounded by reminders of Bucky, when all you wanted was the man, himself. But he was your ex-boyfriend now, you supposed. You were going to have to come to terms with that sooner than later. Besides, Alpine needed to be fed, and you weren’t going to abandon her.

Your keys clicked in the lock as you opened your front door. “Al, baby,” you called, kicking off your heels and closing the door behind you, “Mommy’s home. You hungry, sweetie?”

You began making your way back toward the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs got your attention. You rolled your eyes; what had the cat knocked over now? 

But then there was the roar of a body barreling down the upstairs hall and toward the stairs, leaving you frozen where you stood. You cast a glance to where you’d left your phone in your purse by the door. Too far away to reach in time to call for help as the intruder came pounding down the stairs. 

A massive figure rounded the corner, nearly knocking you over.

“Bucky?” You blinked, sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no– there he stood, and he looked like shit. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He’d obviously been wearing the same clothing for at least a day, if not more.

“Y/N,” he breathed, throwing his arms around you and wrapping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.”

“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked him, pulling away from him. God, you wanted to let him hold you, but you just couldn’t. Not anymore.

Bucky cupped your face in his hands, blue eyes desperately searching yours. “I got your message. Doll, it fucking broke my heart. I came straight home, but you weren’t here, and I was terrified that you were gone; that you’d left me for good.”

You scoffed. “I’m not the one who leaves, Bucky.”

He flinched at your words. “I know, Baby. I know, and ’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shoulda known what leavin’ you so much was doin’ to you, ‘cause it was doin’ it to me, too. When I heard you say that people– that you– thought I was cheating on you, that I had neglected you so much you thought I found someone else, that I could ever love anyone else, ever want anyone else– I’ve never hated myself more, doll. I can’t stand that you even had those thoughts in your head for one second, because it’s always been you. There’s never been anyone else. You’re it.”

“Then why have you been gone?” you asked him in a whisper. “If there’s no one else, and I’m it, why don’t you ever want to be with me? Why do you keep leaving?” 

Bucky ran both his hands along his face. “God, it feels so stupid now,” he said with a sigh. “But I was trying to save–”

“Trying to save the world, yeah, I know,” you interrupted him, annoyed. “Trust me, I’m well aware that I can’t compete with that. But I needed to know you thought we were worth saving, too, and you never did.”

Bucky started laughing then, and you scoffed. “Wow, you don’t have to rub it in, Bucky.”

“No, no– Sweetheart, no!” he shook his head. “That’s not it, at all. Hold on.” He went to the foyer and grabbed his go-bag; you had missed it when you walked in. Coming back to the kitchen, he put it on the table, opening it up and extracting a folded piece of paper and handing it to you.

It was a real estate listing for a farmhouse Upstate, with acreage on the Hudson. You and Bucky had talked about what kind of house you would buy if the situation had ever presented itself, and it was almost as if you’d dreamed it up.

You looked from the paper back to Bucky. “I don’t understand,” you told him.

“It needs pretty extensive renovations,” he told you. “I wanted to take on enough overtime to have the money for them and make a good dent on the mortgage, but it needed more work than I originally thought. And, I have to come clean– I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you about where I’ve been spending all my time.” He looked up at you through his lashes, head bent down in shame.

“But… but, you said there wasn’t anyone else,” you stammered, heart ready to beat out of your chest. 

“Oh god! No, and I mean that! There isn’t, I swear! God, I’ve fucked this up so bad!” Bucky tugged at his hair in frustration. “I’ve been going on extra missions, but sometimes, Sam, Steve, and I go Upstate to do some work on the house, to cut down the costs so I could still make my timeline.”

“You already bought it?” you asked, your voice flat. You were in shock. “You want to move out? Away from me?”

Bucky moaned in distress and drew you to him again. “No! God, I’m doing this all wrong. I want us to move there, together. To make it the perfect house. The perfect home for me, my wife and our stupid fur baby.”

You stilled at his words. “I’m sorry, your what?”

Bucky smiled at you sheepishly as he reached back into his go-bag. “I’ll have you know that I had an entire plan. Was gonna have the house ready by Valentine’s Day. Take you up there as a surprise, ask you properly, but I fucked that up, so…” He brought his hand back out, holding a small burgundy velvet box. He opened it to reveal a vintage engagement ring, a sapphire instead of a diamond. Your favorite stone.

Bucky got down on one knee. “Y/N,” he began as his voice choked up a bit with emotion, “I know I fucked up for the last eight months. I would completely understand if you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have only ever loved you, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that, even for a moment, I let you think that you weren’t the most important thing in my life, my number one priority. Will you marry me?”

“Buck…” you began, not sure how to phrase what you were about to say. “What about your job? I can’t keep coming in second to the rest of the world, and I get that it’s selfish of me, but–”

“I quit,” he said simply.

“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock at his statement. 

“The second I heard your voicemail, where you said you wanted to call it because I was never there, I told Steve I was done, that I needed to start putting you first. It wasn’t even a question. I’m officially retired.”

Your mouth hung open. You had hoped he would cut down on his missions, but for him to have quit completely… You gently tugged him to his feet, taking the ring box and running a finger across it.

“It’s lovely,” you told him softly. “Absolutely perfect; exactly what I would have picked for myself.” Bucky beamed at you, pleased. “But I can’t accept it.” His face fell as you gently placed the ring back in his hands. 

“Oh,” he whispered, eyes growing glassy. “I… um, I understand. I fucked up, hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“I still want to be with you, you idiot,” you admonished him. “But you did hurt me, and we’ve been apart for a long time. We need time to find our way back to each other again, okay? Ask me again on Valentine’s Day, just like you originally planned. Don’t do it now just because you fucked up.” You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him. “And if it helps make you feel better, I’m probably going to say ‘yes,’ anyway.”

Bucky grinned at you. “Really?” he asked. When you nodded, he picked you up and spun you in  a circle before pressing his lips to yours as if he hadn’t touched you in months. “I promise you, Sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to make this up to you, I swear it.”

“Anything?” you asked with a smile. “I think I know where you can start.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked you. “And where’s that?”

“Take me to bed, Bucky Barnes,” you said, kissing him again.

Without a word, Bucky swung you over his shoulder and ran with you up the stairs, your squeals and giggles echoing behind him.

Much, much later, when you lay sated together tangled in limbs and sheets with Alpine snuggled next to your heads, Bucky played with your fingers as you rested your head on his bare chest.

“So, Doll,” he said, kissing the pads of each of your fingers, “you gonna tell me who had the nerve to ask my girl out on a date?” 

You laughed. “Lainy’s cousin, Harris. I suppose I’ll have to text him now and tell him I’m not interested.”

“Hell no, you’re not interested,” Bucky chuffed. “Gonna have to remind that punk you’ve already got a boyfriend. The position has been filled.”

“That’s the thing, though,” you said, planting a kiss on his nose. “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, do I?”

Bucky’s face fell. “But I thought you said–”

“I’ve got myself a fiance.”

Bucky tightened his grip around you, drawing you even closer to his warmth. “Yeah, okay. I gotta admit I like the sound of that a lot better.”

Your entire relationship with Bucky Barnes might not have played out like a fairy tale, but in that moment, you were more sure than ever that you two would get your happily ever after.

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting. 

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter. 

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following. 

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty. 

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday. 

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat. 

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver. 

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy. 

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.  

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back. 

And that’s when all eyes turn to you. 

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts. 

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.” 

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.” 

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you. 

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.” 

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch. 

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth. 

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney. 

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice? 

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar. 

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.” 

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car. 

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk. 

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?” 

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it. 

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave. 

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer. 

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

“Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter. 

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house. 

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

Unofficial Taglist:

@cjand10

[kissme-suguru]

Under The Influence

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ Nanami Kento ♡︎ CEO AU! x Fem Reader

Warnings: Explicit content MDNI, Soft Dom Nanami, smut, unprotected drunk sex, creampie, missionary, cunnilingus, praise

A/N: This originally was gonna be a multi character thing then i got too into CEO Nanami. Any feedback is appreciated!

Tonight was the annual corporate dinner for Nanami's company where everyone got together to go over the accomplishments for the year and give out recognition. Every year Nanami made sure his employees were taken care of, renting out the upper floor of an extravagant restaurant for the the event and treating everyone to a nice dinner. Being the stoic man he is he sat back and watched as everyone enjoyed themselves but every once in awhile his eyes would land on you. His pretty little assistant who he longed for so desperately.

From the moment you walked into his office for the interview he knew he was in trouble, his eyes lingered on your figure which was shown off in the pencil skirt and blouse you wore. But keeping up his reputation as a professional he put those thoughts aside and hired you cause he thought you'd be a good asset to the company. (certainly no other reason)

Nanami watched you mingled with some of his other employees, taking sips from his scotch as the jealousy began to rise in him. He was already on his third drink and you being the sole reason why he was indulging more than usual. Despite trying to keep up his facade he hated when others captured your attention; to him it wasn't fair. He wanted you and not only that he wanted to make sure everyone knew you were his and his alone.

When the event came to an end you took notice of how tipsy Nanami was and of course as the doting assistant you helped him into the back of his car and rode back to his penthouse with him to make sure he got home safe. In the car his muscular body leaned against you in his drunken state, which you allowed since he seemed to take comfort in your presence.

After entering his penthouse you carefully guided him to his bedroom and guided him to lay on his back. He chuckled quietly sprawling out like a starfish as he watched you move to his bathroom and gather a cold rag. "Such a sweet thing, taking care of your boss."

A soft giggle fell from your lips while you approached, placing the rag on the forehead. "It's my job to take care of you, sir. Besides I've never really seen you drink before so I wanna make sure you're alright."

His hand reached out to grab your wrist and pull you closer to him, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips and look at him in confusion. The drinks from restaurant seemed to give him the liquid courage he needed to finally express himself to you. "That's what I like about you Y/N-" His gaze traveled down to your lips briefly before meeting your eyes. "You're so selfless, so kind, so...perfect."

Nanami's words brought heat to your cheeks and made your knees weak. Of course you had been attracted to your boss but you didn't think he would possibly return your feelings.

"Kento-"

"I want you darling. I need you, I have since I first laid eyes on that pretty face." He let go of your wrist and moved his hand up to stroke your cheek, gently pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb. "Tell me you feel the same?"

Looking deeply in Nanami's eyes you nodded slowly. "I want you too, Kento." His eyes widened with a mix of desperation and longing after hearing your answer. He leaned closer, his warm breath fanning against your skin as he whispered, "I want to taste you, Y/N. I want to feel you wrapped around me. Please...let me have you." His hands tightened their grip on your waist, desire evident in his touch.

Nanami wasted no time pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss after you nodded in approval, his hand roaming over your body with a desperate hunger. He slowly slid off your dress savoring the sight of your exposed skin that he had long dreamed about. The maroon dress pooled at your feet leaving your lace clad body on display.

A nervous smile appeared on your lips as you turned your head slightly, nervous to meet his hungry gaze. Nanami noticed your flushed cheeks and couldn't help but find it incredibly endearing. He gently cupped your face, turning it towards him so he could gaze into your eyes. "You're so beautiful, darling."

He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, his touch gentle and soft. "Don't be shy, my sweet. I want to see every expression on your face as i pleasure you." His words were laced with a hint of teasing, his desire to see you unravel in his voice.

Kento's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you settle onto the plush mattress. He slowly crawled over you, slipping off his shirt hovering above you. His hands trailed along your sides, his touch feather-light as he explored every curve and dip of your body.

"I can't resist you." He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a passionate dance.

His hands moved lower, caressing your thighs and inching closer to the source of your desire. He could feel the heat radiating from your core, and it only fueled his own need. With a teasing smirk, he whispered against your lips, "Tell me, pretty girl . How badly do you want me to taste you?"

A shaky breath fell from your lips as she looked up at Nanami. “Please, I need to feel your lips on me."

He couldn't deny you any longer. With a low growl, he lowered himself between your legs, his hands gently parting them and pulling down your panties to expose your glistening folds.

He leaned in, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin, before he pressed his lips against your throbbing clit. His tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He savored your taste, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of your wetness.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger. He alternated between gentle licks and firm sucks, his mouth working tirelessly to bring you to the edge of pleasure. He wanted to hear your moans, to feel your body tremble beneath him as he pleasured you to the brink of ecstasy. He pleasured your body with utter ease, listening to every little sound and finding out what made you tick.

It didn't take long for your orgasm to approach, whining out his name as your back arched into the plush bed. "K-Kento."

Nanami's name falling from your lips in that desperate, needy tone sent a surge of satisfaction through him. He intensified his ministrations, his tongue flicking and swirling with purpose. He wanted to push you over the edge, to make you unravel completely.

He could feel the tension building within you, the telltale signs of your impending release. With a final, firm suck, he brought you to the peak of pleasure. Your body convulsed beneath him as waves of ecstasy washed over you, your moans filling the room.

As you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm, Nanami crawled up your body, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on your lips, and it only fueled his own desire. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come undone," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with a mix of adoration and lust. "But I'm not done with you yet, darling. I want to make you cum again and again."

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you looked up at him with need, subtly grinding your pussy against his clothed bulge.

Nanami groaned as he felt your wetness grinding against him, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. With a primal growl, he quickly undid his belt and discarded his pants along with his boxers somewhere on the floor. He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, hands gripping your hips tightly.

He aligned himself with your entrance, teasingly brushing against your slick folds. "You're so fucking wet for me, baby." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around me."

With one swift motion, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. The sensation of your tightness around him was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure. Resting his forehead against yours allowing you to adjust to his girth momentarily before you gave him the go ahead. He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, setting a rhythm that matched the urgency of his desire.

His hands roamed over your body, gripping and squeezing, his touch possessive and demanding. He wanted to leave his mark on you, to brand you as his. His hips met yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"You're mine." he growled, his voice filled with possessiveness. "No one else can make you feel like this. Only me." His words were punctuated by his relentless pace, his need for you driving him to push you both to the edge of pleasure.

Nails raked up and down his back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Moans rolling off your tongue next to his ear in desperation. Your body clung to him like it depended on it.

Nanami's body shuttered at the sensation of your nails digging into his back, the mix of pleasure and pain only fueling his desire. He relished in the sound of your moans, the need in your voice echoing in his ear.

He continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming more urgent and primal. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room. He could feel the tension building within him, the need to release threatening to consume him.

With a possessive grip on your hips, he angled his thrusts, hitting that sweet spot deep within you. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice filled with raw need. "You feel so fucking good. I can't hold back anymore."

His thrusts became faster and harder, his body moving in perfect sync with yours. He could feel the coil of pleasure tightening within him, ready to unravel. With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled himself inside you, release washing over you both in waves of ecstasy.

He collapsed onto the bed, his breathing heavy and labored. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. "You're mine, darling," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of possessiveness and tenderness. "And I'll always take care of you."

[hisunshiine]

—immortal lust |myg|

🧛🏻 pairing: vampire!yoongi x vampire hunter!reader  🧛🏻 au/genre: vampire au, e2l, angst, smut  🧛🏻 rating: M  🧛🏻 wc: 8,783 🧛🏻 warnings: mentions of parent death (off-screen). creepy themes associated with graveyards, vampires, and vampire hunting. explicit smut: fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied bdsm, implied orgy, biting, blood drinking (vamps, duh!), use of blood for lubrication (again, vamps!) 🧛🏻 an: thank you to my beta readers @downbad4yoongi and @lo1k-diamonds and @mrsparkjimin18. I know this ws rough at first, but I think it became a very enjoyable piece of literature in the end. @colormepurplex2, thank you for the prompt to write, and congrats on earning the most points for the network in the semi-annual tally! You earned it! 🧛🏻 summary: In the shadows of a world where the supernatural breathes just beneath the surface of the mundane, you are a skilled vampire slayer from a revered family harboring a secret desire that contradicts your very existence. 

🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻

This story is written for @colormepurplex2 as her gift for being the top leading point earner for our network, @bangtanwritershq and for our Quarter 2 event: Seven Deadly Sins

ᥫ᭡ AU Type: Lust — Vampire AU ᥫ᭡ Themes: Enemies 2 Lovers & Forbidden Desires ᥫ᭡ Inclusions: Bargains & Contracts, Confessions and Secrets, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood & Violence 

masterlist ❁ ao3

24 Years Ago

“Why are you crying, Uncle Sol?” Eight-year-old you stands in the darkened doorway of the study, bleary eyes struggling to take in the scene in front of you.

Soleil Belmont sits in the overly stuffed, brown leather armchair in front of the fireplace. Your uncle by choice, thanks to the life-long friendship between him and your mother, Valkyrie Blake, is how he came to be in your life. The hands that cover his damp eyes wipe furiously at his cheeks, as if to hide the evidence of his tears from your sight. You didn’t even notice how he looked—the mud caked on his boots, the tattered look of his shirt under his leather jacket, the small cut by his hairline or the bruises starting to appear along his face. 

“Come here, sweetie,” he asks, voice breaking as you walk in your thin nightgown across the wood floors, feet making quiet sounds with every step you take closer to him. Once within his reach, he places a clammy hand on your shoulder.  

“There’s been an accident.”

The funeral itself was one of the worst days of your life, watching the twin caskets of your parents lower into the rectangular cutouts in the  earth. The gleaming black lacquered wood was polished to perfection, only to be marred by the small handful of dirt you’d thrown before begging to be taken away from the graveyard, away from the scent of death and decay. 

That day is when you decide you never want to experience death. You never want to be so badly injured in a car accident that your family has to have a closed casket. That you’d never see your child grow up, and leave her abandoned in this world. You hate that death is the inevitable end to life, and that fear leads you down the path you’re on now.

You - Present Day

The dream begins much like all of the other ones you’ve had as of late. You’re in an old cemetery—gothic gravestones coated in thick moss with flora obscuring the names and dates of the not-so-recently deceased. Large tombs with crumbling marble and ivy-covered wrought-iron fences, the overgrown oaks with Spanish moss reaching eerily towards your figure in the shadows from the waxing crescent moon. The dirt beneath your feet feels malleable as you step quietly past the final resting places of all of the former slayers. You’ve traversed these grounds before, more than several times in your adult life, as you’ve learned about your family, the work that they did—that you are supposed to continue—and can name all of the family lines that take their final rest here. 

An eerie fog begins to rise from the ground, permeating the air until it covers your boots and ankles, weaving its way along the marble and stone placards, hiding the Lord’s Prayer epitaphs and angelic motifs from sight. A shiver raises the hair along your arms and the back of your neck and you sense him. He’s here, watching you with his luminous eyes and heightened, immortal beauty. You know he can hear the way your heart thrums in your chest, can smell the prickles of adrenaline that drip from the sweat at your hairline, and possibly the arousal as it seeps through your panties.

You attempt to refocus your thoughts away from the nervous energy, standing still.  You wonder if he believes that you are doing this so as to not trip or step on dead wood littering the ground to make too much sound. You know it wouldn’t matter. Quiet as a mouse or trampling like an elephant would make no difference to this being. He is well over three centuries old, exact years he has been alive though are not documented anywhere. No one has lived after a close encounter with him to document his life pre-turning, according to the various journals and tomes housed in the slayer library. 

All you know for certain is that the earliest records of the vampire known only as ‘Yoongi’ appear in the late 17th century, identify his maker as ‘Namjoon’, and his three known fledglings as ‘Heizi’, ‘Taehyung’, and ‘Hoseok’. Only one of his creations is dead—the one who killed your parents. A loud crack of lightning whips your head to the left, the flash revealing the amber backlit eyes embedded in the dark silhouette of the famed vampire crouched on the edge of the cremation tomb several yards away. Your amygdala reacts, heart rate spiking as he moves faster than you can capture—one second he’s atop the Van Helsing columbarium, the next he’s standing in front of you, strong hands clamped to your arms holding you tight, keeping you from moving. Your small but deadly sharp stake is rendered useless by your side.

There’s no time to scream, no time to do anything but hear the rush of blood through your veins as his mouth grows from a smirk to a downright smile, fangs glowing from the reflection of moonlight.

“You made it too easy, kitten,” he purrs, bringing his face closer to yours before dipping his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent as he scrapes the tips of his pointed teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck. “And to think you were able to kill Heize. I must do better at training my progeny. Oh well, another slayer to add to the crypt. You didn’t even last two minutes.”

Squirming in his grip, you try to disengage his clenched fists from your arms as his mouth descends to your thrumming artery. You wake with a gasp, hands flying to your neck to check for puncture wounds. 

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Down in the gym at the bottom floor of your house—if you can call it that—you push your muscles to their extent, fists flying into the punching bag. You whip around, grabbing the thin bladed stake from the side pocket of your athletic leggings and plunge it into the second bag made for staking. 

With a deep breath, you step onto the bag to pull your weapon loose, watching small bits of fluff flutter to the mat beneath you. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you check the time on the clock, noting it’s near lunchtime. Sheathing your weapon, you head up the staircase to sunlight. 

On the ground floor, your eyes easily slide past the neoclassical designs along the hallway, high ceilings with blank walls, and columns lining the open floor plan with large arched floor-to-ceiling windows. The protein shake you prepared earlier sits on the top shelf in the fridge, and you grab it along with the jelly to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You’ve just finished when Soleil Belmont walks into the kitchen, a gentle squeeze to your shoulder as he bypasses you to the fridge.

“Can we talk?” he asks you, but you don’t want to argue with him, not when tonight could be the last time you ever talk to him. 

“Sol, I have to do this. You can’t change my mind about this. He sired the vampire that killed my mom and dad. He’s killed countless people for sport, leaving behind orphaned children like me.” You hope the finality in your tone will keep him from prying or asking more questions. 

It works.

“I love you. And I won’t try to change your mind. You’re much like your mother, stubborn to the very end.” Your mother’s best friend and your legal guardian until you turned 18 joins you at the table with a bowl of grapes, a look of acceptance in his eyes. “You know, if anything happens to you, I’m selling this house. It’s much too big for me and I’m getting older.”

Your eyes gaze across his features: the greying hair at the edges of his hairline, crow’s feet meeting the creases of his eyes, the weariness in the undereye circles and fine lines. He’s nearing 60, an age you don’t think you’ll live to see. An age your parents never got to be. At 32, you live on your family estate alone, with Soleil in the pool house you had renovated years ago as a Mother-in-Law suite once you turned 21 and gained your inheritance—and learned the truth about your parents’ death. 

Just as much as you probably could have lived without ever knowing the truth of your parents’ lives, and their demise, you didn’t need all the space he was trying to give you, but he wanted to allow you the chance to be an adult, have a social life and you assume a sex life without having to hear it. You appreciated it in the moments you brought men back from the bar or campus library, but other times, it was just…lonely. 

As a Belmont, Soleil knew about vampires. His family is well known across Europe for their work in Romania slaying creatures of the night, and Soleil’s great-grandparents moved here in the early 1800’s to spread their knowledge to others to continue hunting as the new world grew and vampires spread to the new continent. This is how your families came to be friends and fight alongside each other. Until Heize killed three of the four hunters tasked with taking her out, leaving you and Sol as the only survivors of the Belmont’s and the Blake’s. 

“I think you should. I only keep it because it has everything I need to train. I could practice in peace without worrying about people judging me for all of my weapons. Most people think it’s a little weird to have wooden stakes and crossbows when working out.”

Sol chuckles, making a joke about how between the gym being littered with staked bags and the UV lights that line the entire property at night, people would be confused when purchasing, but then the light leeches out of his eyes as he looks you over.

“Remember to keep your wits about you, okay? I never wanted kids because I knew that hunters' lives never end happily, and when I lost…we lost your parents and my fiancee, I wouldn’t have had a reason to keep living if it weren’t for you.”

You decide now is best to give him the ticket and the envelope.

“Sol, I think…I think it’s best for you to go away on a trip. I think I’ll be able to focus better knowing you are out of harm’s way if you leave.” You slide the ticket across the table towards him, the envelope underneath it. “It’s a one-way ticket to Paris and enough money to be comfortable for as long as you want.”

“You don’t think you’ll survive this, do you?” Sol asks, eyes searching yours for clues, but you remain steadfast.

“Don’t worry about me, Sol,” you say and he makes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him, dealing the killing blow. “I’m not your daughter, so you don’t have to stick around anymore. Go live your life. I want you to go and live your life.”

The hurt in Sol’s eyes is visible, but your plan works. His hand reaches out to grasp the ticket, leaving the envelope of money where it’s at. 

“I don’t need Blake money; the Belmont’s have enough of their own.” He takes a moment to pause, eyes locking back all emotions as he stands. “I’ll pack and leave town. Don’t be distracted.”

Soleil walks to the hallway, turning back just once. “Goodbye.”

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The past 11 years seem to be coming to a head. You’ve spent all of your time after graduating from college training for today. Ever since you learned the truth of how your parents and Sol’s fiancee died, you’ve been plotting for this moment. 

As a member of the famed Blake family, vampire hunting is in your blood. As a child, you obsessed over vampires because of the ability to avoid dying, and as an adult, that obsession helped you with your training. You knew more about vampires than one would expect having been brought into the fold so late, but you put your head down and studied more, learning all you could from previous journals and occult texts to gain insight into the vampires with ties to the one called Min Yoongi. 

Several years ago you went out to avenge your parents, trapping Heize in a classic bait-and-switch. You didn’t think it would be so easy since she was estimated to be around 200 years, but she fell for it simply because Soleil was the only one she didn’t kill, and in her blood haze, she underestimated you. A simple ‘accidental’ dropping of a message from Sol that said where to meet, coupled with thoughts that you and Sol made sure to keep in your head to continue the ruse allowed Heize to willingly walk into the decrepit mausoleum that was booby-trapped with the thinnest of steel wiring criss-crossing the doorway several yards inside with you and Sol on the other side. 

In her haste to grab Soleil, she blurred—her speed too fast to stop her from splicing herself into pieces and effectively decapitating herself was a pleasure to watch. Grabbing the blow torches stashed in the room, her body quickly lit up with flames licking the marble walls as you made your exit. 

It’s been over 5 years since then, and every second since has been spent planning for tonight. 

Min Yoongi - Present Day

Laying in the coffin in his home, Yoongi awaits dusk. His body is antsy for the moment the sun is below the horizon; even in his slumber, he knows that you are out there waiting. For him. He’s followed your movements since the death of his fledgling, Heize, watching to see how this novice of a hunter could have overpowered one of his chosen flock. Imagine his surprise when it turns out that it was you—the last remaining survivor of the Blake family who knew nothing of vampires true existence until you were an adult. 

But over time, he realized as novice as you were, you were skilled. Your lithe movements and ability to track his kind was a novel experience for him to observe. You took down creatures of the night in preparation for what you expressed to your guardian as training for taking out him. Yoongi laughs to himself. 

He admits you’re smart, the plan you laid out is a good one, but you forgot to block your mind from thoughts of the plan several times, which allowed Yoongi to plan his counterattack. In the light of the midday sun, even from outside of his home, he sensed you as you approached and left a note. He could hear your heartbeat, hear the rustle of the paper as you placed it through the mail slot of the front door.

His eyes shot open the moment the sun fell below the horizon. Yoongi hated that he was not yet able to avoid the forced slumber that overtook his kind when the sun rose, nor that he was not averse yet to the fatigue that set in beforehand, warning him of the lack of time remaining to the night. Elder vampires, of which he’s only met two who had lived over a thousand years, were almost immortal. The ability to walk in the sun and thus are not affected by the need to sleep when it rises. Yoongi envies them, but he plans to join them one day. 

He flits to the main hallway, hand reaching for the note and taking in your handwriting in seconds. 

I know what you are. I want to be one of you. Please meet me tonight and turn me, or I will tell everyone vampires exist. 

An address is scrawled at the bottom of the note, but he doesn’t need it. He can follow the heady scent of you to wherever you are. Even in sleep, he sensed when you drew near and his subconscious couldn’t help reading the thoughts that lay in your mind. You truly thought this ruse would work? Hell, it would’ve worked on Heize, or his other fledglings, had they not known who you were. There is fear to be had with mortals knowing of their existence; vulnerability lay in the moments that the sun is out, and a house fire could destroy a whole flock in minutes if their kind is not careful. Yoongi cursed their inability to wake while the sun was out, and now that he knows you know where he resides, he must find a new place to live out his days. 

A glance at the old grandfather clock in the hallway shows him that the sun is now well and truly gone, allowing him to slip through the entrance of the home and out onto the sidewalk. He takes a deep breath, searching for your scent through the others that encompass the air around him; the grass along the road, the burnt rubber of tires in traffic, the lingering warmth of the sun before its descent, and then the faint smell of jasmine flowers after a fresh rainfall. You. 

Blurring into motion, Yoongi travels several miles towards the city, slowing once other scents begin to emerge. Thin crust pizzas covered in meat and cheese, overflowing trash and body odor, and a desperation that covers the city’s nightlife with a humming buzz. The fading jasmine keeps him moving, though now at a human pace as he approaches what appears to be a dance studio. The sign above the door confirms as much, and he’s not surprised that the glass door is unlocked despite the red and white closed sign hanging at eye-level for passersby. 

The floral scent grows tenfold, as if Yoongi has stepped into what he assumes your bedroom would smell like. There is a strange undercurrent that he isn’t used to associating with you, but he assumes it’s just lingering from the studio. As he walks past the lobby area, the shadows of the fake potted plants and the empty chairs intrigue him. Why you chose this place is beyond his comprehension, as a dance studio such as this one, owned by the Blake family—your family—for years, is in the middle of the city and one of the few places not related to the hidden career path of hunting. Unless you count using dance as a way to build agility for fighting those who cannot die, well at least not die easily. 

Yoongi’s cockiness as he meanders closer to the hallway towards the various dance rooms leaves him caught off guard when the sound of whirring behind him causes him to move unnaturally before going eerily still. The slightest misstep is only noticed by Yoongi, whose barely beating heart seems to pick up minutely—not that anyone living or dead would be able to tell. He chuckles at your meager attempt to lock him in; a motorized grate lowering across the lobby door and windows. 

His strength could easily rip the grate off of its frame, but this little game you’re playing is just too good to walk away from without seeing what you’ve planned with his own eyes. It only pops into his thoughts once he’s walked through the back studio where your scent is the strongest, that the grate lowering was not part of the plans his Mind Gift overheard from you. 

So it’s only to his own surprise when the undercurrent rises to an overwhelming level and he realizes what his hubris blocked out. The mirrored room before him is splashed floor to ceiling with blood. 

You - Present Day

With the scent of your blood so overwhelming to the centuries-old vampire, you watch from the corner of the room as he drifts towards the mirrors and closer to where you need him to be. Your fingertips itch on the small switchboard you hold, ready for your plan to unfold. He looks almost dazed, eyes unfocused as his fangs poke his bottom lip. He looks so different, from the way the journals make him out to be, in person he’s much more attractive, and you have to really focus to make sure you don’t miss your mark. 

When Yoongi enters the area you’ve marked off with tape, you release your hold on the button that allows two things to happen simultaneously: a set of low UV flashbang grenades are set off, the mirrored walls reflecting the blinding light with a cacophony of sounds to drown out any thoughts he might try to detect, and a 4x4 cage made of the thinnest wire springs into place trapping him within its confines. 

You watch him through your military-grade glasses, the lenses preventing the bright lights from disorienting you as his brilliant eyes shut against the danger they sense. He is a few centuries old, and you know that despite the direct hit of the UV light, which only lasts for a split second, the slight damage dealt to his skin heals seconds later. 

But your aim wasn’t to kill him. He laughs, a loud bellyful that sounds almost joyous until you flip the second switch, which sets the alkali metal aflame. His laugh is silenced almost immediately, a growl rumbling lowly in his throat. 

“What game are you playing at, little mortal?” His voice carries an edge, and you shiver with delight. You’re sure that it’s never been this easy to capture a vampire that is several centuries old, but sometimes the best laid plans are the most simple. You step forward from the corner you were in, no longer hidden as the flames light the room and you pull off the tinted lenses.

“I’m not playing any games at all.”

He glares at you, the slits of his eyes glowing an intense amber shade—an enhancement to what you predict were originally beautiful brown eyes—and you bravely take a step closer. 

“Then what, praytell, would you call this,” his hand waves gingerly towards the room around him, “smoke and mirrors set up you have me in?”

“I…I want to experience being bitten.”

This time, the vampire does laugh fully, his head thrown back exposing his fangs and the long lines of his neck from his sharp jaw. His milky white collar bones are barely exposed in his black, button-down, long-sleeved shirt.

“No hunter,” he spits the word as if spitting a foul taste from his mouth, “would willingly subject themselves to a bite, to risk becoming that which they hunt.” 

“I would.” Your answer rings with sincerity, at least to your own ears, and you hope that the vampire can see the longing in your eyes.

“What reason would I have to give in to this request? The promise that you’ll let me out of here before daylight comes to burn me into ash? That you’ll let me out of this fire prison you’ve created? Do I look like a fool, mortal?”

“I think you’re desperate enough to make sure tonight is not your last night on Earth, and you should know that you hold all of the cards.” You take a deep breath before sharing your deepest secret with the immortal being before you, your voice rushing with a frenzied speed. “I only learned of your existence once I was an adult. Before that, I prayed to whatever gods would listen to find a way to avoid the inevitable—to escape death. You know I grew up without parents, right?” 

Yoongi only stared at you, glowing embers following your every move.

“Of course you know. I killed your progeny for their murder once I knew the truth.”

He hissed at you then, fangs extended fully as his eyes deepened with rage. He looked as if he had half a mind to grip the flame-laden cage and come after you, but held back—barely. You wait, quietly assessing him as he reins in his anger, chest no longer rising and falling in unbidden anger.

“That was a death that I deserved, and your anger will not sway how I feel about it. But it also doesn’t change what I am requesting of you. I want you to bite me.”

Min Yoongi - Present Day

Min Yoongi doesn’t believe the predicament he’s currently in. A fool! He curses himself. A damned fool to walk right into the trap you laid out for him.

The flames entrapping his body are low, but still, the heat has him on edge. His search of your mind as you speak shows no pretense, but he remembers how easily you fooled him with your thoughts just earlier today. The scent of your blood sang to him, luring him deeper into the dance studio until his mind couldn’t handle the amount; it overwhelmed him just long enough for you to pounce. 

Now that the flames have had time to thrive, the smell of burning metal drowns out the worst of your scent, and he asks you questions to buy himself time to think. But he can’t understand you fully. Your actions and words do not align with what he knows of hunters, of what he knows of you from afar. To hear you earnestly wish for him to bite you, despite knowing how hard you trained to kill his fledgling, contradicts everything he thinks he knows about the prominent hunting families. 

And still, your request piques his interest. The calmness of your body belies no deceit, no racing heart or skittered words as you barter with him as if discussing what to have for breakfast with a partner. And he’s studied your body, unbeknownst to you. He’s watched as you brought home men to fuck, heard the way your body reacted to their attempts at pleasure, the way your nervous system changed when you lied about seeing them again. Has smelled your jasmine scent and can’t lie that he’s wanted a taste…if only to then rip your pretty throat out.

He realizes in that moment that you do not know fully and truly what it is you are asking for. There are mysteries yet hidden from the mortal world about vampires, about their bite and the effect it has on the living when not immediately drained. 

Yoongi grins, finally deciding to answer your request after long moments of thought. 

“I accept your demands, hunter. I shall bite you in exchange for sparing my life.”  

You - Present Day

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you walk away from his gaze to shut the door to the dance studio. You take a few deep breaths before turning around to walk back towards the switchboard, where you activate another switch. 

A low hum reminiscent of fluorescent lights quietly fills the quiet of the room, to which Yoongi questions. 

“Another precaution?”

You glance at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Just my way of making sure that you stick to your end of the bargain. Should you harm me against my will, I have a way to activate those lights lining the room, which are high-powered UV lights, and not just the ones that last for a second.” You look back at the switchboard, finger searching for the one to shut off the fire and disengage the cage. “The only way out of here safely is with my blessing.”

“Afraid of me, hunter?” His query has you pause your movements.

“Afraid of you? No. You’re my best bet at getting what I want.”

Facing the vampire, you maintain eye contact as you grip the hemline of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in as fluid a motion as you can to leave you in just a simple underwire t-shirt bra and your denim jeans—you assume his bite will still be messy, and walking out of here covered in blood seems like a sure way to attract police attention. Again, you see Yoongi take on that supernatural stillness that only creatures of the night can achieve. His eyes are like focused lasers on your body, and you feel a thrill as you reach behind you to release him. 

With unnatural speed, he blurs into your space, forcing you back towards the wall—a cold hand on your exposed hip and the other leaving a dent as it braces against the wall by your ear. 

“Any of my kind could’ve given you what you wanted. It need not be me,” he murmurs as his nose trails along your jawline seductively. But in the next moment, his fingers tighten into your skin as he growls. “So why strip and offer yourself to me?” 

You squirm in his grip, a sense of deja vu taking over as you remember the dream you had a couple of nights ago. “Because,” you gasp out, “you’re the oldest vampire I know in existence. Newer vampires have no control, killing almost immediately.” You arch in an attempt to create space off of the wall—you hate the way you feel trapped. You question whether you should have trusted your instincts about Yoongi. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Why would a hunter want to be bitten?” His hand leaves the wall to grab your chin. A chill sweeps down your body from the points of contact, sending goosebumps along your exposed skin. His eyes flash a luminous amber. “Tell the truth.”

Your mind feels hazy from his command, almost as if you’ve stepped outside of yourself to watch your mouth open. “I’ve always been fascinated by vampires,” your voice sounds dreamy, a wistful look upon your face, “ever since my parents died. I want to escape that fate, I want to master death.”

A low hum from Yoongi helps break the spell as his eyes ever so carefully appear to peel back the layers until he sees through to the real you. The little girl who cried at her parents funeral and vowed never to meet her maker. You sense when he makes his decision, his eyes growing lighter and his hand tilts your head to the side.

“There is much you do not know, and you know not truly what you ask for.” He inhales a breath he doesn’t need, and his voice changes, a different tone taking over. “But your body reacts—it longs for this, does it not?” he teases. “I can smell your lust, your desire.” He presses his body to yours, firm planes and muscle meeting your softer curves. You feel the closeness of his lips as they graze across yours.

A small whimper escapes your mouth. “Please,” you softly beg so your lips caress.

Yoongi’s tongue slips between your teeth in a kiss of seduction. There is no rush to his movements, only a controlled, steady pace as he meets your tongue with his. You feel his teeth prick your lip as his hand moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. There’s no sound, except for the hum of the device and your heavy breathing. Yoongi doesn’t need to breathe. 

You gasp for air when he trails featherlight kisses along your carotid artery, his hand sliding along your side and over your covered chest and onto your shoulder. Once there, he pushes your bra strap down and removes the fabric covering your breast, freeing it from the holster. His thumb circles the peak of your breast, taught from the friction. He must be enjoying the way he’s building the tension in your body, and you wonder if humans taste better to vampires when they’re aroused. 

You don’t get a chance to ask. The insertion of his fangs into your neck is nothing like your dreams. The prickle of pain as they lance open your skin fades almost instantly when you feel the first pull of your blood through your veins and into his mouth. 

You gasp, astonished as the euphoric feeling settles over you like a warm blanket and Yoongi’s arms wrap around you as he drinks from you in deep swallows. He’s taken in a few mouthfuls before he pulls away with a shudder that shakes his whole being. 

“Divine,” he whispers, blood trailing along the sides of his chin as his hands move to fully free you of your bra, then trail along your curves. The contact is exquisite, the coolness of his hands doing wonders for the flames licking underneath your skin. 

“More, touch me more, please,” you sigh, wanting nothing more than the creature who holds you in his arms. The feeling of him seems to burrow under your skin to the very depths of your soul as if he’s leaving a permanent stamp embedded. 

His deft fingers cup your breast, causing you to moan with barely any movement. “Not enough!” you whine, uncaring at your petulance. Yoongi chuckles at you. 

“Where do you want me to touch you, kitten? How do you want me to touch you? Under your jeans? Gentle or rough? Perhaps you want much more than that?”

You blink coquettishly, nodding yes and begging him to take more of your blood from you. Your hands reach for him, fingertips pulling at the edge of his clothes as if to free him of them. You’re rewarded with his alabaster skin, the light dusting of hair below his navel leading into the very pants your fingers fiddle with the button on. 

His tongue laps at your heaving chest, and you watch as he cleans away the blood that ran from the bite he left. His fingers tug at your nipples, and you give up tugging at his pants as the sensation causes your head to fall back in a breathy whine. Your fingers have worked efficiently enough though—his pants fall to the floor and he kicks them aside to join the growing pile of clothes, and you add your jeans next in haste. 

Another mewling sound leaves you when his tongue toys with your pert nipple, fangs scraping along the soft contours of your breast as he chases the last of your blood. When you feel your back hit a mirrored wall behind you, you welcome the cooling feel of the glass, though unsure of when you moved. Yoongi’s leg pries apart your thighs, hand dropping to the heat between as he presses against your still-clothed core in search of your clit. When his fingers push your panties aside and he begins to rub slippery circles against you, he chuckles lowly. 

“How wet you are, indeed, pet. Yes, I think you want much more than just my bite.”

In your own mind, you agree with his words. You want so much more than just his bite because you want all of him—his bite, his touch, his cock filling you over and over as you crest in shuddering waves of insurmountable pleasure—for all of eternity. His lips drag along your neck as he speaks, leaving small kisses between his sentences. His fingers dance along your slick opening, teasing but never broaching. Not in the ways you want him to fill you. 

He hikes up one of your legs so that it rests on his forearm, opening you up to him and at the same time that he plunges his fingers into you, he returns his mouth to your skin, placing a bite in the swell of your breast and drinking deeply. Your body thrums, blood pulsing slower to be in sync with Yoongi’s at every swallow of your life force. 

You’ve never felt this way—no one has ever finger fucked you like this, and through the roaring of your blood in your veins, you distantly hear your own voice begging him for more. The heel of his hand makes contact with your clit, and you keen when he holds the position, fingers deep inside you to rub against the spongy patch of nerves as his wrist makes circular movements to stimulate your clit. Your hands work at the buttons along his shirt, pulling with haste and faintly recognizing the ping of the buttons as they ricochet free. Shoving the cloth off his shoulders, you’re exposed to delicate collarbones, a lean torso with blush nipples and a toned chest that tapers into a narrow waist. A small smattering of unruly black hair leads a path down the center into the briefs low on his hips.

You see starbursts behind your eyes as you cum, hard, walls fluttering rapidly around his long fingers. The air in the room is thick with need, desire running so deeply in your veins that you feel lightheaded. All you want is more, more, more. It’s not enough that he bit you, not enough that he brought you to ecstasy with just his fingers. You crave everything he has to give you. As if not of your own volition, you rock against the fingers still inside you, hands reaching to pull Yoongi’s face back towards yours. 

Fingers twine with the hair at the nape of his neck, and with reckless abandon, you kiss him hard. The metallic taste of your blood mixes with a taste all his own and you relish the way the two mix into a delightful cocktail on your tongue. His fingers thrust shallowly into you as he slowly makes to remove them from your body. Your hips cant towards him, chasing the feeling until he drops your leg from his arm and you’re left empty and wanting. 

The hollowness he’s left you with makes you want to cry, but when you try to pull away from the kiss and complain, he chuckles against your lips. “Hush, kitten, we’re just getting started.”

It seems like an eternity that he’s abandoned your pleasure, but with his supernatural strength, it takes mere seconds for his hands to rip your panties from your body, rid himself of his remaining clothes, bend his knees for access to hook his elbows around the backs of your knees, and lift you up. Your back slams into the glass mirror, and you feel the way it shatters around your body, but you feel no pain. Not when the new position has your core exposed to him and his velvet, steel cock is positioned at your entrance, teasing you with what’s to come. 

The view of him between your thighs is amazing. Your eyes trail down his body, showing no shame as you rest them upon his cock, a blushing hue color fueled from your blood now pumping in his body. It’s erect, his lust for you is apparent as he flexes his hips. The tip sinks inside you with help from your first orgasm lubricating his entry, but he doesn’t let it get far before pulling back. He edges you with languid pumps, and you watch in anguish each time he retreats from your warmth. His cock glistens farther up each time he dips inside of you, and the unhinged, sex-craved and cock thirsty being inside you wants him covered in you, the smell of sex so overwhelming that people on the street can smell it. 

“Oh, yes, kitten, everyone will know all of the depraved and debaucherous things I’m going to do to you.” He thrusts in with one fluid movement, and you swear you feel him in your chest. The fullness his girth offers splits you open like you’ve never experienced before, while his length reaches deep inside you. 

A glance at Yoongi's face as he takes in your naked body proves that he too feels the snug way he fits inside of you, and is also expecting to see the bulge from the tip of his glorious cock pressing against your skin. A flash of disappointment when it doesn’t happen flits across his face, and you realize he was not joking about the depraved things he wants to do to you. 

A press of his palm to your lower abdomen has your mouth open in silent pleasure as his hips swirl delectably; the pressure provides the perfect grind of his flexing muscle against every part of you that squeezes him, and the sound as he slips through you just to thrust in again only makes your lust rage more. It’s sinful, everything about the way he’s fucking you roughly is. 

Gasping out sensual curses mixed with your name, Yoongi’s eyes flash an intense color, and as if reading your deepest thoughts, he pulls out of you and shifts away from the pane of shattered glass to one still intact. He flips you so that your breasts press to the mirrors. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls them backward, his feet nudging your own apart. You brace yourself with your hands on the glass, breath leaving a hazy fog with each shuddering exhale of air as you find reprieve from the fire beneath your skin with a pressed cheek to the reflective wall. 

“Fuck…me…” you moan out the curse when he seats himself fully inside of you, his pelvis pressed tightly against your ass cheeks as he lets out a low, throaty growl. 

“I thought I was,” he replies smartly, but the shake to his voice shows how much restraint he’s showing. You press your ass into him as much as you can, rising onto your toes for leverage. Your eyes stare at his reflection behind you, watching as he curls his body around yours to lick at your earlobe. “I had plans of killing you, dreamt of the way I would torture you before I snapped this pretty little neck of yours, did you know?”

You didn’t know for certain, but you feel like all creatures of the night have the goal of killing humans one way or another, so it doesn’t really bother you. In fact, his words make you clench around him, because the way he’s worded it seems like these are no longer his plans. He confirms as much as his hips rock back and forth in a teasing rhythm that barely sates your needs for him. 

“I’ve decided that this pussy is just too good to go to waste, kitten.” His head drops into the crux of your neck, breathing deeply. “Your sweet blood calls to me, and will taste even more decadent when you cum around my cock,” his tongue swipes over your skin before his fangs burrow into you with such an all-consuming lust, you nearly sob with how good it feels. His hips begin a punishing pace as he wraps his arms around you, one hand going to hold your right breast as the other hand drops between your thighs. 

The pads of his first two fingertips slip around his thrusting cock, stimulating your weeping core before moving back up to strum along your clit, matching pace with each press inside of you. “You will make such a lovely creature, don’t you think? Cum for me, kitten, and I will make sure of it.” His words trigger a deep need inside you, words that soothe an ache you’ve carried since you were a child. 

Your orgasm bursts from you in an earth-shattering explosion, so heady and rippling that you fear you will black out from the strength of it. You barely feel when his teeth sink into you again. He takes a deep pull from your artery, and your high gives him exactly what you think he was searching for. It’s almost shameful the way he moans against your skin as he drinks you in, but you’re so lost to his thrall that it only makes your desire for him deeper. 

His thrusts stutter until he is no longer able to hold back, and he fills you as he rips his fangs from you. His head is thrown back as he growls through his ecstasy, and you blink slowly at his reflection, eyes tracing the veins in his neck now running red with your blood trailing from his mouth. 

With more restraint than you thought he had left, he turns to you and you feel a fog take over as he asks you a series of questions about getting out of this room safely. You answer them each methodically, as if you have no control over your words. 

You feel yourself growing more and more tired, watching every few seconds when your eyes decide to open again from each blink, bleary-eyed as Yoongi dismantles the failsafes you put in place should things go wrong. Your chest aches for him, wanting him closer to you, touching you, drinking from you. 

“Soon, 달달한 피.” He kneels before you, dressed once again, hiding his body from you. You hate it. “It’s time for us to go somewhere safe.”

He pulls you into his arms and you preen, if you could purr, your chest would be rumbling in the pleasure of the feel of him. Your head rests on his shoulder and you try to stay awake; some part of you wants to pay attention to where you’re going, but blood loss wins as you sink into a deep slumber. 

Yoongi - Several Days Later

Pain. 

Your body thrashes with pain as the blood you just consumed spreads throughout your system. The last few days after leaving the ballet studio and entering Yoongi’s…home, for lack of a better word, has been full of the most exquisite satisfaction your body has ever experienced. You told him as much each night since arriving.

He’s reveled in giving into his most debased fantasies, and your body is covered in the proof; bruises littering your skin, chafing around your wrists and ankles, blood staining the rug beneath his feet where he now stands, watching you. 

Yoongi hasn’t turned a mortal in almost 200 years—not since he turned the one you killed. You make a better replacement for her in many ways, he thinks. Your beauty, your mind, your 달달한 피, or sweet blood, which he can’t wait to taste once you’re resurrected. And because this is the longest he has gone since bestowing the Dark Gift upon a being, not to mention that he is closer to 400 years than he likes to admit, he is sure you will be powerful beyond belief. 

He heals his wrist and glances at the time; he chose to turn you at sunset so he had time to prepare before he needs to rest. The marble walls that surround the underground basement bedroom of Yoongi’s home echo with your sounds of pain, so Yoongi leaves you in the bed as he ventures towards another wing. He knows that when the sun sets again, you shall be ravenous, and he needs the help of his brothers to bring in enough sustenance for when you wake. 

His maker, Namjoon, lounges in his study with a beautiful woman straddling his hips. Her skin tone is darker than his, and their coloring makes a beautiful picture of caramel and chocolate swirls. She is draped over him, arms wrapped around Namjoon’s neck as she bucks her hips slowly against him, no doubt riding his cock now for several hours. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to enter and approach him; he’s used to such displays.

Namjoon licks his lips as he pulls his mouth from her neck, and then smiles up at Yoongi from his couch. 

“Well done, enthralling the last of that hunter family. One less family we need to worry about.”

Yoongi focuses on Namjoon’s face, trying to ignore the whimpering moans from the woman getting off in front of him. It’s making his own cock stir, and he’s tempted to join in, but then he wouldn’t have time to gather the blood you need. He indulges for a few moments longer though, watching the way her supple breasts press against Namjoon’s firm chest as she kisses along his neck. 

“You can join, brother. Would you like her mouth or her ass?”

Yoongi shakes his head but continues to enjoy watching the beautiful woman as she rides his maker. He’s tented in his jeans, but that’s also a normal occurrence for all of the men living here, since you can always find someone having sex at any moment. 

“I wanted to let you know that I will be inviting a few mortals over. I plan to head out with the others and gather a few.”

Glee arises on Namjoon’s face. “You’ve given her your blood, brother? Oh, this is brilliant. Another one to add to our flock! We haven’t had anyone else in years.” He sighs out in content and then murmurs something into the woman’s ear which has her shuddering. He sinks his fangs into her to enjoy her orgasm before turning back to Yoongi. 

“I can’t wait to meet your newest fledgling, Yoongi. I must know though…will you be possessive or is she one we all can share?”

Yoongi smiles, his fangs poking into his bottom lip as he grins at his maker over the shoulder of the woman who is now leaning away, head thrown back as she bounces on Namjoon’s cock with a fierceness of someone chasing a fourth or fifth orgasm.

“I think she may be open to sharing, brother, she should awake tomorrow at sunset.”

Yoongi turns away with a chuckle as he heads to find any of the other five of their flock to accompany him to the bar.  

You - The Next Sunset      

It’s disorienting how clear everything looks to you. You gasp as a hunger you’ve never felt before takes you into its grip and takes over your mind. Lurching out of the bed you’ve been fucked in every which way since arriving, you clutch at your neck. The hunger burns. 

“Come here, kitten, I’ve got what you need right here.”

You turn to the voice, and a bright splash of scarlet comes into view. You don’t even think about it, you just bring it to your mouth and drink messily. You latch on and slurp down as much as you can, wanting every last drop to sate the intensity, but the voice tugs you away. You feel anger but then you’re given another warm mouthful of scarlet and indulge gluttonously. 

This time, when the voice calls to you, there is no anger, only a need to follow, to go to the voice and await more from it. From him. Yoongi. Your memories flood you all at once, a pulsing thrum as your pussy throbs now that the blood from the drowsy humans is in your veins, and you search for him. 

When you find him, you stumble up from your knees away from the bodies and throw yourself into his arms. You realize you’re still naked when he maneuvers your body so that your thighs are on either side of his, bulge from his jeans rubbing your core from the friction. Leaning into you he kisses you languidly, tongue cleaning up some of the mess you left behind before swirling with your tongue to share the taste of the humans in a kiss. 

Your hips grind against him, the kiss turning sexual in moments and Yoongi growls in response to your libido, now heightened after death. 

“Fuck,” he groans as you unzip his jeans and reverently pull his cock from his boxers, and using a combination of the blood dripping on your chest and your spit, begin to stroke him with firm movements.  

Moments later you return to your first position, straddling Yoongi as you sink onto him repeatedly, one hand gripping your ass and the other in your hair, keeping your mouth on his. 

‘Just like that, beautiful, he likes when his cock is buried deep inside a pretty girl.’

You gasp as you hear a melodic voice in your head, turning your head behind you to see six men watching you take Yoongi’s cock as his lips trail down your neck and chest.

You cock an eyebrow at the men, all so beautiful, you could cry at their jaw lines and angles, broad shoulders and dilated eyes. 

“Yoongi, I didn’t realize you liked an audience,” you tease as you slow your movements and put on a show, pushing Yoongi’s shoulders down to the mattress so that when your chests meet, the view of how well you take him, how well he splits you open as you sink down and envelop him to the hilt, is visible to all of them. 

“I like an audience, kitten, and sometimes I like when the audience joins in.” The look he’s giving you as you continue to ride him lets you know the question he’s asking you. 

“With this new immortal lust of mine, I think I’d like that too.”

Sealing your decision with a bite to Yoongi’s neck, you take a deep pull as you feel the bed dip with the weight of the others joining you for what you hope will be the height of immortal lust that will last an eternity.  

The END

달달한 피 (daldalhan pi)- “sweet blood”

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[dellalyra]

reading your shoko writing made me think about if reader and shoko joke about running away together, suguru just encourages it while satoru is all pouty

𓇬 Cottagecore 𓇬

“I am so fucking tired of this shit.” You groan into the cushion you’ve buried your face in.

“What’s happened?” Shoko asks, poking your head.

“Fucking assholes. All of them.” You continue.

Shoko looks at the boys, hoping they’ve got answers as to why you’re face down in the sofa.

Geto turns to her, wrestling a mochi off Satoru.

“The higher ups are trying to stop her from being part of the Exchange Event - saying her CT isn’t well suited for taking part, doesn’t even make sense, they just don’t want her to get any glory.” He shrugs. Shoko should’ve guessed it was them, trying to put roadblocks down in Y/N’s way simply to piss her off.

“Bro - if Satoru can take part then how the fuck can Y/N not, he could just wipe the whole damn school out.” Shoko rolls her eyes, switching from poking your head to patting it.

You turn your head to her, frowning and pouting like a scolded puppy. You knew you’d be taking part, whether they wanted you to or not - but your frustration with them was understandable.

“I am gonna turn them all into trees.” You mutter, now face planting into her shoulder.

“Sounds good, honey.” She agrees.

You groan when you realise that’s technically murder.

“Wanna just run away together?” Shoko says.

“Oh my god yes, no boys allowed.” You nod. Satoru’s head whips around at this.

“We’ll get a little cottage in the woods, total cottage core vibes.” Shoko adds, messing with Satoru by joking about taking away the girl he was in love with and providing you with a welcome fantasy distraction were two duties of being a best friend.

Suguru quickly smirked at Shoko, catching on.

“You could like - grow your own food and get those weird ducks you like Y/N. Shoko you could be like the village witchy healer.” He adds, as Satoru starts to frown and he looks about an inch away from a toddler style tantrum when you suggest it’s time for the toys to be put away.

In his case, he’s not letting you leave!

“You can visit once a year, Suguru.” You agree.

“What about me? Why can’t I come?” Satoru quickly adds, and you turn to face him.

Seems someone hasn’t caught onto it all being a joke.

“You can come annually with Suguru. Shoko and I are going into hiding. We’re going to be cool forest witches.” You nod, smile bright.

“Well - where will you go? Because I’ll just buy a house next door.” He says, with an actual pout on his lips.

“Bro calm down, we’re not actually going - you’d have to kill me first to have me live in the woods.” Shoko adds.

“Well I’ll go alone then.” You pipe up.

“No! If Shoko’s not going on your fake trip, then I am! I’ll bring you. I’ll buy your fantasy land cottage and we can live together! Shoko, that’s so mean to suggest a pretend trip and then bail!” Satoru adds, much to your delight - he’s no idea that your dream future is marrying Satoru and living in a sweet cottage with a pretty garden, and here he is suggesting that. Suguru and Shoko swear your pupils turned into hearts hearing this, and found it especially funny that you mention something and Satoru immediately plans to give it to you.

“Hmm… can I have the ducks?” You tap your chin, trying to hide the blush overtaking your face as Satoru nods excitedly.

The four of you then sit and plan what your future houses will look like, successfully distracting you from the white haired boy who is sitting so close to you that you can feel the heat from his skin and smell his tea tree shampoo.

You’re both so fucking whipped, and you’re not even dating. Yet. Because we all know it’s just a matter of time.

If someone had a crystal ball, they’d have seen you and Satoru lifting cardboard boxes, 6 years down the line into the sweetest little cottage - with a very pretty garden and two excited kids by your side and a disgruntled Aunty Shoko beside them.

[hlficlibrary]

Heeey! Can you recommend me some fics that just scream!! flirting and sexual tension? Like, where they meet and immediately start shamelessly flirting with each other, no holding back kinda like Escapade or Mine Would Be You. Any category works, seriously. I just really miss the vibes from Escapade 😭

Hi, anon! Here are some fics with lots of flirting and sexual tension for you! Edited to add: I also have this rec you can take a look at! ✤ Fics Like Escapade

you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie

Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

let me make a thing of cream and stars by @missandrogyny

It doesn't explain why he's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of him.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Louis' wet dreams since he was about eighteen.

(Or: Louis is a Radio 1 DJ and Harry is a pop-star he interviews.)

Fall At My Door by @kingsofeverything

A-list actor Harry Styles and award-winning musician Louis Tomlinson have an acquaintances-with-benefits relationship, so whenever their busy professional lives happen to land them in the same city, they meet up. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

And that’s all it is. Until it isn’t.

Felt Nothing Like Home by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

The Bon Appétit YouTube channel has become an unexpected success partly due to the newest series developed by classically trained pastry chef Harry Styles who is intent on making the art of baking accessible to the masses. He and his best friend Louis Tomlinson have been with the magazine for years and they’re unused to the level of online fame they’ve suddenly achieved.

It’s easy for Harry to brush it off and ignore it (despite the teasing they get around the test kitchen) because Louis is happily married and has been for years—since just before they met for the first time. Or, it was easy to brush it off, but at the beginning of the summer, just as they’re leading up to the stress of planning the annual holiday issue, Louis and his husband decide to file for divorce.

[soljean]

Born a Kook, became a Pogue. - JJ Maybank X Reader Fanfic

Summary: reader lives on Figure Eight, meeting JJ at the annual bonfire one night. From that point on, she can’t seem to stay away from him, despite reader’s strict parents.

This is loosely based off of a dream I had recently. I don’t ever post my own writing, but I had fun with this one! Working on a pt2 if anyone is interested!

——————————————————--

Growing up on the outer banks, you learn quickly that there are two tribes that don’t coexist well. You grew up lucky, always having enough food to eat and clothes to wear. You had access to private schools and country clubs, deeming you part of the Kooks, the rich kids from Figure Eight. On the other side of the island was the Cut, where most blue collar workers had multiple jobs just to make the bare minimum of ends meet. Those were the Pogues. For whatever reason, these social classes never mixed well, one feeling threatened by the other. The fights that would break out when the two intermingled never quite made sense. You never minded the idea of having friends with different backgrounds and life experiences. Not to mention, the material things you had growing up never really meant a thing to you. That’s why on Friday night, you jumped at the opportunity to go to the Boneyard for the annual bonfire, not caring if you’d find yourselves among the Pogues.

Your friend Molly had asked you to go, you and her had only recently become friends. Living on figure Eight, you never really felt like you had anyone you connected to, so good friends were hard to come by. Molly was nice enough, but you two were different. She had of course spent time shopping and choosing the right outfit for the night, where as you settled comfortably for some cutoff shorts and a tank top. It was a beach party at night, was it really a fashion show?

Once you arrived, it didn’t take Molly much time to find some Kook guy to flirt with for the evening, leaving you to figure it out for yourself. You grabbed yourself a drink and started making your way through the crowds of people, looking for someone to talk to. Before you could make it very far, you heard shouting. “Here we go again” you mumbled to yourself. Of course, you caught glimpse of a group of Kooks provoking a fight with the Pogues not too far from you. Knowing how this typically went, you tried to move out of the way, when suddenly you got shoved to the ground, spilling your drink and landing face down in the sand.

“Woah, you okay there?” you heard someone yell to you. You tried get up and see who was talking to you, but you felt a stabbing pain in your shoulder, which had taken the impact of the fall. Your face twisted in discomfort, you rolled on your back and looked up towards the voice you heard. “Yeah, I’m great” you replied, sarcastic as ever. You were met with a pair of soft blue eyes and floppy blond hair to match, the boy’s face filled with concern. With commotion still going on around you, he bent down, clearly trying to help you.

“Come on, let’s get you up and out of the way” he said, taking your hand on your good side and pulling you to your feet. He kept hold of your hand, walking you far off and away from the crowds. Turning around and facing you, you finally got a proper look at him. He was clearly a Pogue from the Cut, with a cutoff t-shirt and cargo shorts. He had kind eyes and a nice smile, his hand still holding a PBR can. He placed his can in the sand and looked at your shoulder. “Can you move it?” He asked you.

“No, I don’t think so. I think I dislocated it” you said, starting to got nervous.

“No worries, I can pop it back in for you” he stated.

“What, do you even know how to do that?” You asked. I mean honestly you didn’t even know the guy.

“Yeah, had my fare share of injuries over the years. Just hold still.” He said, placing his hands on your shoulder. “It’s gonna hurt, but I’ll be quick okay?” He said, looking for confirmation.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s just get it over with.” You said. With that, he made one move and you heard a snap, popping back in place. The pain was radiating throughout your arm, and your eyes started to water, but you didn’t yell in pain, trying to hold it together in front of the stranger you had just met.

“There, I’ve got you, it's good now.” He said, holding you close to him as your breathing steadied. “You’re okay”. After a moment or two, he stepped back and looked you in the eye. “Better?”

“Yeah, uh, thank you. Thanks so much” you said. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life the boy lived if he know how to fix a dislocated shoulder at 17 years old. Nonetheless, you were grateful. “I’m Y/N” you said.

“JJ, and no problem. I saw you get knocked down back there, didn’t look pretty. Sorry you got caught up in that. My buddies always get themselves in the middle of something at these things” he states.

Looking around, the party seemed to have cleared out, the fight clearly scaring the remainder of people off, including your friend Molly. “No problem, it tends to happen here regardless. Looks like we cleared the place out” you joked. He laughed too. “I guess so. Which way are you headed?” He asked.

You pointed towards Figure Eight. “This way” you said. He started in that direction, even though you could clearly tell that was not his side of the island. “I’ll walk you, its dark out, and you took a real beating tonight” he said.

Walking next to JJ, you two began chatting. You learned he worked at the country club your family frequented. He grew up on the cut with his dad, an only child just like yourself. From what you could tell, they didn’t have the best relationship, mentioning that he lived mostly at his friend John B’s house. “Hope I get to see you around at the club sometime” you said. Despite your difference in social class, you could tell he was down to earth, something lacking in the Kook community.

“For sure you will.” He smiled. You approached your place, turning to look at JJ. “Thank you for your help tonight and for walking me home. I know it would have been easier to walk away, so I really appreciate what you did” you confessed. The throbbing of your fresh injury still very much present as a reminder.

“Anytime Y/N. Hope that shoulder doesn’t hurt you too much tomorrow. From my experience it can be sore for a few days. Anyways, I’ll see you around.”. From his experience? With that, the kind boy from the cut walked the other direction and out of sight. You began to feel more hopeful that some genuine people still existed on the island.

————————————————————————

The next few months, you did in fact see JJ at the club working for time to time. One of the first times you spotted him, he immediately clocked your difference in behavior around your parents versus the time you met him. Stopping you on the way to the bathroom one day, he pulled you aside just to check in.

“Hey, Y/N, I was hoping I’d see ya here sometime. Everything good?” He asked.

“Yeah totally, but just so you know, having kook parents isn’t all its made out to be sometimes.” You say with obvious irritation. “This is my life, getting dragged from one snoopy party to the next. Coming to the club to talk with shallow people”

“Ouch, didn’t think I was that bad.” He says, clutching his chest for dramatic effect.

You laugh. “Not you of course. Sorry, you’re sweet to check in. How’s your shift going?” You ask.

“Uhh almost done for the night thankfully, but I should get back. If you’re around later, want to meet me after my shift? Was thinking of a smoke to end the night.” He asked. “Sounds like a plan” I smile. We agree on a meeting spot outside the club and with the he disappeared back to his work.

He quickly became someone you enjoyed running into at the club. Truth be told, you didn’t feel all that happy being a Kook, living life by you parents rules all the time. They were strict, pressuring you constantly to excel in school and meet their high expectations. JJ was different. He was laid back and fun. He was never afraid to let loose or go on an adventure. His friends were welcoming towards you, and they were equally as fun to get to know, but something about JJ was different. You had a connection with him that was special. It added a new component to your life that was almost healing. Overtime, you could feel yourself relaxing and having a part of your life to look forward to more and more.

————————————————————————————

One night, you sat in your room studying when you heard a knock at your door. “Come in” you said, knowing it was likely one of your parents.

“Hi sweetie, do you have a minute to talk?” You mom asked.

“Sure, what’s up?” You asked, closing your laptop and turning to face her.

“Well, your dad and I are concerned about you becoming a little distracted recently. I know you have been making some new friends, but spending too much time with the other side of the island isn’t the best way to keep your priorities in check. You know how vital your education is.” says your mother.

You immediately felt defensive. “Mom, I like my friends. They aren’t distracting me. It’s healthy to be around good people, I feel happier with them then I have in a long time.” You defend as politely as you can.

“Well, we just think it’s best if you stay away for now and keep yourself focused. You’ll need to start thinking about colleges soon, and we want you to have the best opportunities possible. I’m sure you can understand that. For now, no Pogues.”. She stands up and begins making her way to the door.

“This is really unfair Mom, I hope you know that.” you defend.

“We are doing this for you, you know that. Your future comes above everything.” She says.

As soon as the door closes, tears fall. Theres that feeling again. That overwhelming feeling that your life was being controlled and decided for you. Your parents liked Molly, how were the Pogues that different? They were kinder, more loyal. Sure they didn’t have all the material things you had growing up, but that never mattered. As you sit in your room, you start to lose hope and wonder if you’ll be able to stay away.

———————————————————-

A few weeks go by, and you try to obey your parents wishes, staying away from JJ and the Pogues. Of course, JJ had reached out every day, and you were running out of excuses to dodge him. You didn’t want to tell him how your parents felt, knowing it was unfair and mean, but you missed him desperately. He was your best friend.

One night, your parents drag you to some stuffy club event. Truth be told, you looked fried. The last few weeks left you depressed and strained. You were burned out from school and with no social outlet to bring you joy. You sit at the table, faking smiles as best you can, but anyone who knew you would be able to see there was something wrong.

Across the room, you see JJ serving tables. “Oh no” you think. You’re not sure if you can handle an interrogation with him right now. You quickly excuse yourself from the table, walking out of the dining room to find anywhere to be alone and away from a possible run in with JJ. You hop out onto the balcony of the restaurant that is tucked away, noticing its empty. You take a few moments to catch your breath when you hear the door open behind you. “Y/N?” You hear. Of course it was him. You feel panicked, unsure if you could face him.

“I saw you run out back there. I just wanted to come check on you.” He says. You turn to face him, tears welling in your eyes. As soon as he sees your face he softens, going over to you and pulling you into his chest. “Hey, what’s wrong? What’s been going on with you lately?” He asks, hands rubbing up and down your back. You lean back to face him, not sure what to say. He moves to wipe the tears from under your eyes, getting more concerned the longer you stay quiet. “Baby you know you can talk to me” he whispers, keeping his hands on the sides of your face.

You decide to just confess the truth right there, knowing there was no way around it. “My parents asked me not to see you anymore. They think it’s better for my future if I stay away, which is complete bullshit. That’s why I’ve been so MIA though, and it’s been killing me. I’ve missed you.” You stumble through your words, unsure how he’ll react, but glad you got it out in the open. JJ lets out a breath you didn’t know he’d been holding. Now that you are staring him in the eyes, you notice that he too looks completely exhausted.

“I thought I did something to push you away” he says. “I missed the shit out of you, Y/N.” He pulls you back in for a hug. “We’ll figure something out, just please don’t scare me like that again.” He says.

“You have no idea how tough parents can be.” You say to him. He pulls back to look at you, searching your eyes for something.

“I just might actually. Look, can you get away and meet me later?” He pleads.

“Um, yeah sure. I’ll figure out a way. Just text when you can.”

“Okay” he confirms, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out I promise. Now get back inside before they come looking”. He’s right, who knows how long you’ve already been gone. You take one last look in his eyes, then turn around, heading back into the dining room for a few more hours of empty conversation.

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 5. SETH CLEARWATER

A/N: honestly did not expect the Seth Stan’s to show out the way you guys did on that poll?!! Caught me off guard for sure! since back then I never found my Seth lovers anywhere but this is a good thing! All I imagine is warm fuzzies looking at not only Seth but Boo as well so you can definitely expect this to be some fluff! Also have a safe and thrilling new year, hope the best is coming for us all 💚

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: 25.) Home for the holidays (“thought you couldn’t make it!”, running hug) + DIALOGUES — 35.) “Did you make me a tinsel crown?”

WARNINGS: as sweet as can be + probably too short for any of our likings! & Seth and reader are (aged up) about 25 :) + a quick write—if you couldn’t tell 😬

<- read my previous December anthology prompt here.

❅✧˖°･:*:｡･:*:･ﾟ.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❅✧˖°･:*:｡･:*:･ﾟ.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❅✧˖°･:

you’re at your parents, it’s early (to you) around ten am and you’re outside in the backyard. It’s the night after the annual Christmas party your parents threw, you crashed here at their residence that they’ve owned for around three years now and it still didn’t quite feel like home. You could say California never did, it didn’t give you the feeling of sunny superstar dreams and wonder—it turned out to be just another mile you can simply tick off from your odometer.

it’s funny how you never had the desire to be in this state in the first place and here you are living here for the past six months. You’ve been a few places since La Push,(Oregon, Minnesota, Maine, and finally residing in British Columbia prior) spending a good twenty years there before deciding to look elsewhere. You left before your family did and it wasn’t ever a competition but they can honestly say you’re the influence that pushed them to see more.

Everything of course was not all fun and games outside of the world you once knew but you wouldn’t completely rewind and start over. Some things needed to be done to figure out where you truly had to be. Which was your answer for it all but that came with tears you couldn’t hold back as you finished off a cupcake.

The end of the year was so near and yes you were thankful to be closer to your family again and the sprinkle of success this year brought to your table but there always seemed to be something still missing that you couldn’t shake. You’ve grown accustomed to everlasting change in your life—I mean the supernatural world can get pretty wild no matter where you went but you knew how to get adjusted after some time. Yet you couldn’t explain the puffiness on your face to yourself although those deemed it as good sleep. Waking up in tears was not what you expected the day after spreading joy but the cool plunge from the winter air soothed you just fine.

Wrapped in a blanket, staring out into the pale yellow sun behind the haze of blue, you’re chewing the last of the soft cupcake, lost in your own feelings that you don’t even register your name being called. Standing in the middle of the slightly messy backyard, you take your time glancing over your shoulder at the mention of your name and feel your breathing hitch.

Behind your father is a face that you’re all too familiar with. Then it all starts to make sense as a once cautious glance turns into a famous grin that always meets his dark eyes. You’re supposed to be cleaning up the backyard but instead you’re running full speed into the tender arms of a person dear to your heart.

Seth Clearwater.

Your eldest friend who you had the best time getting in touch with over the last year. How ironic is it that he’s been living in California all these years? Information that your parents left out although your dad talked to Charlie and Sue often. Perhaps that was their way of protecting your heart? That Seth was once upon a time a brushed off subject that most refrained from bringing him up. He was disappointed that you were leaving five years ago and you tried your hardest for him to go along with you but Seth wasn’t ready to leave La Push behind for good like you were.

You were both on opposite ends. You finished community college and you were accepted into another school in a different state but those two years felt like enough for you. You had savings for traveling and that’s what you did, to find a better sense of yourself outside of what you’ve always known.

Unfortunately that included Seth.

You tried to keep up with postcards, phone calls, emails, and texts but that just became a reminder that life went on without each other in it. Something you both had to accept although the sadness was hard to beat until you both learned to stop thinking as much.

Perhaps you never really did.

“Thought you couldn’t make it!” Your head is buried into his shoulder as you squeeze him tightly.

You haven’t seen each other since you were both twenty, reconnecting through social media after Seth decided to hop back on and it was shocking to hear that he and Leah were both making an attendance to your parents home, flying and driving in that Friday. The dejection was evident on your face when Leah was at the door alone and she made blunt attempts (in Leah fashion) to soothe over the sting. She was very vague and so was Sue—which was not like her now looking back on it.

Seth was expecting a text from you, questioning about his whereabouts but was met with radio silence which said enough. He was quick to question everyone else in the family group chat but sue was more reassuring than his step-dad Charlie and big sister were.

He chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, “Fooled ya, didn’t I? There’s no way I’d bail out completely. Just got wrapped up in some last minute things on the holidays, which sucked but I’m here now to see you.”

Lifting your head you stare up at Seth, scanning over his features which were still there, just defined as he stood in his adulthood, with his hair much longer and free on his terms.

“I’m glad.” You offer a smile, which felt tight against your slightly swollen face, “and also can’t believe it! When Leah told me something came up, I actually wanted to head back home.”

“Aw well…I’m glad you didn’t.” Seth informs, “I hear you have a strange roommate according to your dad.”

You glance at the space where your dad once stood and scoff. “Melvin just…loves his reptiles. He works at a pet store and I told him that as long as he has a good watch on them and I don’t get bit by any of them to the point I’m unalived then…it’s cool with me.”

Seth raises his brows, “Wow…I’m impressed.”

“What? Why?”

“If I remember correctly you were afraid of the simplest of things like: crickets, dragonflies, and butterflies. Now you’re telling me you live with reptiles?” Seth quizzes with a smirk.

You shrug, “you can’t hold the past against me! I’m experienced such growth and we have time talk about everything right?”

Seth briefly cups your cheek, before slipping it to rest against your blanket covered shoulder, “as much time as we need.”

One thing about Seth Clearwater, he’s always been sincere and that hasn’t changed in the last five years.

“I have something for you,” you say disappearing into the house, ignoring the stares from your dads’ to grab the item before heading out back once more, “here we are.”

Seth lowers his head a bit as you get the item settled and he peeks up with a grin, “Did you make me a tinsel crown?”

“You may have missed out on the shenanigans last night but I saved you one just in case,” you tell as Seth models the shiny crown in the backyard while you clap in approval.

Seth sighs, “thanks for thinking of me…care to take a stroll and tell me everything?”

He holds his hand out, awaiting for your grasp and you don’t hesitate because you know that Seth will share the same as you make laps in the backyard together. Arm now looped with his, head resting against his shoulder as you take turns telling each other just how much you missed being side by side.

The looks of longing passed between the two of you, which answers the questions the final month of the year brings: you’ll always be the best part of each others lives no matter what the distance may bring.

Seth’s warmth and compassion reminds you that, the blues—you didn’t realize that you even had—don’t deserve a place here.

He does.

❅✧˖°･:*:｡･:*:･ﾟ.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❅✧˖°･:*:｡･:*:･ﾟ.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❅✧˖°･:

DEC. ‘23 PROMPTS FIN.

[randadrives]

"But. . . How do you make money?"

Once upon a time, questions like: “How do you live that way? Where do you get money?” were considered rude. I don’t mind it too much, because I understand where it stems from. I understand I live outside of a societal norm (though being a nomad has increased in popularity over the years). Some people wonder, like I once did, because they want to know if it’s something they can accomplish. I’m not a trust fund child. My parents didn’t gift me some large amount of ridiculous money that I am squandering irresponsibly. I'm in no way a financial advisor. And I have no hack on how to make money while living a nomadic lifestyle. However, I can offer some insight on how I live this way, and how I have seen others live in a similar way. 

At the end of 2023 I was working my dream job and being paid well to do it. There was a fresh new badge waiting for me with my new detective number on it. And I was the unhappiest I had ever been, so I was on my way out the door. It was difficult to walk away from a place that was soon to be giving me about 100k annually if I would just stay long enough to reach the top pay. I had never dreamed of that kind of salary being in my grasp, and especially not at 31 years old. I had no bachelor’s degree, I didn’t go to college for years, I had no connections with important people to get me there. I tried really hard to convince myself to stick it out a bit longer, but it did not take me long to learn that the grass really is not greener on the other side, and I was not built for the mental stress of the career I had chosen. I needed a drastic change, and I needed it soon. I am proud of my past self for being the penny pincher that I was post-divorce (even if it was from money trauma). For the first couple years after graduating the police academy, I was working several part-time jobs making low pay. Despite receiving a substantial raise after struggling financially, I never increased my spending habits. Which leads me to the first financial habit of my lifestyle:

Live below your means

It’s easy to go from making $15 an hour with no overtime or benefits, to $33 an hour with great benefits and plenty of overtime opportunities, and change your lifestyle. Buy a more expensive vehicle, treat yourself to more clothes, eat out all the time, go out for drinks with coworkers every night, buy dumb shit on the internet as a hobby, etc. Easy, but not ideal. I am a paranoid, “what if?” type of person. I like to be prepared, and I don’t like feeling wasteful. I paid off my vehicle so I didn’t have a car payment anymore, and I continued to live, for the most part, like I was still only making $15 an hour. I did not take out more debt unless I absolutely had to. If I did, it was low interest debt, like a vehicle loan, and not high interest credit card debt. All that money I wasn’t spending was going into a savings account. Not a good one, just a regular savings account with virtually no compounding interest, but it was still piling up. Once I finally decided to leave my job, I had a decent cushion to fall back on. It’s not magic or a secret, just live below your means and prioritize. I had to say “I can’t afford that” or “that isn’t in my budget” frequently, and I had to mean it. And I still do that. Fortunately, I have done some research since then and know more about High Yield Savings accounts and investing, so I like to think even though I’m making a fraction of the amount of money I did then, I do better at making it work for me. An extension of this habit is:

Prioritize wants and needs

To live this lifestyle, it takes drive. It takes making and committing to a decision that travel and living intentionally are more important than having things. I have become a person who doesn't like to receive physical things as gifts, because they take up too much space, they weigh too much, and I have to create a place for new things in my small living space. I like the types of gifts that are edible best now, but honestly, who doesn't? When I talk about priorities, I probably have a different vision than others. I don't need a new cell phone every two years when the one I have still works. I don't need to purchase new things when they can be fixed for a lower cost. I also prioritize higher quality products. I invest in a more expensive item up front if I know it's going to last longer, not needing replaced all the time because it was cheaply made. On the flip side, there are many things I choose to purchase used, and occasions I have bartered or traded to get something new I want. Even within the community of people who live nomadically, priorities can be vastly different. One of the most important things in my budget personally is fuel money, because I like to move around and explore. Others can park their rig in one spot for 2 months and be perfectly content, having a way lower fuel budget than me. Also, it may seem like common sense to me now, but I feel it necessary to point out living in a vehicle or in a camper CAN be quite a bit cheaper than owning a house or renting a living space. Your bills tend to decrease the more you downsize, if you're doing it right. Priorities also range because people are bringing in vastly different incomes. There are digital nomads, working remotely in their careers, there are retired couples living their dream of not working to live, and there are those of us working seasonally.

Seasonal jobs, side gigs, and work camping

Work camping is an employment opportunity just about anyone can do, with seasonal contracts being popular amongst those who want to explore. It was a great way for me to ease into this lifestyle with a direction and some stability for a few months, offering me a spot to stay and co-workers to lean on. I joined a website and a Facebook group to find a job and had several phone and Zoom interviews before landing one in an area I had my heart set on. I accepted a housekeeping position at a campground in Moab, Utah. That gave me a direction to drive so I wasn't just wandering aimlessly, and a free place to park as well as a paycheck. While there, I also did pet sitting and dog walking on the Rover app for extra money. I took one work camping gig after that, in Yuma, AZ, and I continued using the Rover app. I will probably look for another work camping position in the future, though right now I'm taking a break from it. Some people line these up so that each season they're in a different location with a guaranteed job, going north to south, or east to west as the year goes on. I prefer housekeeping because I like to work alone now and prefer minimal interaction with other people. But there are also desk positions, maintenance, management, bartending, events coordination, and many more. This lifestyle requires flexibility! Working in campgrounds is not the only way to work seasonally. There are ranches, farms, hotels/resorts, tour guides, National and state parks, etc. Some even provide housing/lodging and some offer campsites. Other types of side gigs could be DoorDash, Uber, house sitting, and many other independent contracting jobs. Creativity is another requirement. I have come across travelers who own businesses and offer services cleaning and fixing RVs, photography, officiating weddings, jewelry making, and just about anything else one can think of. The opportunities for work on the road are endless! For those retirees who don't want to earn an income but want to help and stay busy, volunteer opportunities are everywhere as well, such as camp hosting in state parks.

The elusive remote job

I won't skip over the topic of digital nomads. I searched for and applied to remote job listing for months before leaving my career. I continued to search and apply for months after. Occasionally, if I get bored, I'll begrudgingly open my laptop and do it again. . . Unfortunately, I haven't had the best experience. I do know others who have, but much of the time it appears these are jobs in companies they already worked for, or there was some type of "connect" to land the opportunity. I would love to encourage people to try to find a remote job and hit the road, but for many it's just not realistic. The same goes for content creation. It really works for some of those who live in their vans or truck campers, and they spend full time hours working on brand deals and creating videos for YouTube and Instagram, but for me and many others, it's just not a realistic goal. I'm not discouraging from either of these paths, but acknowledging they are not easy ones.

Choose where you park wisely

Sure, there are folks who live full time in their rigs at various campgrounds, but I am not one of them. That goes back to the "living below your means" thing for me. That is not within my means, unless I'm working at said campground and they're giving me a free or discounted spot. Finding free places to stay is much more my speed, which is why I spend so much time in the western part of the States. Public land is abundant there, and it's easy to find through apps, a search engine, or even stopping at the offices of forest service to ask. I invested in solar to be able to do this - a higher cost up front that has saved me money in the long run. When I do need a break from dry camping and want to run electricity and do maintenance tasks, or if I'm in an area of the US where there just isn't much public land, I will usually choose a lower cost type of campground such as an Army Corps of Engineer (COE) campground, a state park, county park, or city park. With a little research, you will find that these places offer full hook up or partial hook up campsites in awesome areas at a fraction of the cost of commercial campgrounds.

Cheap entertainment

Staying at these types of locations leads us into how much money hobbies cost. Like anything else, this can vary greatly based on the individual. I enjoy hiking, nature, sightseeing, historic sites, reading, writing, watching movies, stargazing, building fires, cooking, and a lot of other inexpensive hobbies. My hobbies are accessible because of the places I camp, most of the time being right in the center of all things outdoorsy. I have found free museums, inexpensive zoos, and made friends with other campers and nomads so I have people to sit around a fire and talk with. Being a cheap date is a perk in this lifestyle. I truly never feel like I'm missing out when this country has so much to offer. A long time ago I let go of any need to impress people with what I can purchase, and choose to spend my time seeking different views in nature.

When people ask me the intrusive questions like "but, how do you make money?" when discovering I don't live in a house or have a full-time job, I don't typically go into as much detail. More often than not, they are just being nosey, or they won't believe me anyway. It's more fun to answer with "I sell photos of my feet online," and shrug it away.

[the-present-is-a-gift-au]

Chapter 12: In Which Drowzee Stops by

It was always pleasant during the spring in Verdant Village. Drowzee tried to make it a point to travel through there on his way to Treasure Town whenever he made the journey to Lunar Peak. The air carried the scent of fresh blooms and clean water from the bountiful greenery and creeks that ran through the area, and the villagers were always hospitable hosts. He assumed it would be no different when he made his usual detour through the village, but something was unsettling about the atmosphere in the lush town. 

A bitter-flavored energy filled the air, so potent it was almost like he stuffed his mouth full of charred rawst berries. It mingled with the smell of florals and springwater in a way that made everything taste acrid as he inhaled. That was strange on its own, but it was even more concerning when he realized the taste was familiar. The feel of nightmares stuck to the roof of his mouth, prickly and irritating. What was going on? He certainly hadn’t eaten anything of the sort. Did he nibble on somebody’s bad dreams in his own sleep at the hostel run by that elderly hoothoot? 

His musings were cut short when he caught sight of a familiar face exiting a home at the roadside. “... Twig?”

She slammed the door behind her, and a loud thud sounded as she did so. Something must have fallen over inside. She had changed since he last saw her. She’d evolved, for one thing, though it was obvious that it was only a partial evolution— but she also held herself with a distinct exhaustion. Strange. She used to be so energetic. He recalled her nearly bouncing off the walls during his arrest all those years ago, but time changed people. She certainly wasn’t a child anymore, and it wasn’t a dramatic assumption to make that said she didn’t have a child’s energy still.

“Drowzee?” She asked. “Um. Hey! Hi! How are you? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, the last time we met was during the mess with Azurill’s nightmare. I’ve been well. Yourself?”

“Doing great! Doing great. I’ve been keeping busy. Um. Where are you heading?”

“To Treasure Town. I stop in Verdant Village when I take an annual pilgrimage to Lunar Mountain, and I didn’t change my path this year when it’s so beautiful in springtime.”

“Neat. I’ve got to head in now, sorry.”

“... Didn’t you just step outside?”

“Yep!” Her voice cracked with nerves. What was going on? Was it related to the strange air? “Yep, I just need to grab something. Um. Sorry to cut the chat short, thanks for stopping by! See you later.”

She awkwardly slipped through the front door of the home— evidently her own home, by the sound of things— in such a way he couldn’t see anything inside. He heard muffled voices come from within, but he couldn’t discern any words spoken. That was… odd. Very odd. He had never known Twig to behave in such a manner, though he admittedly hadn’t been around her very often. Perhaps she had simply grown into a more nervous soul over the years? She’d certainly been through enough to make the average pokemon crumble with anxiety.

His eyes widened when he realized that the potent bitterness in the air was thickest about her home. Something was amiss. He didn’t know what— couldn’t place his finger on why the aura was so familiar— but it made his skin itch with a sense of wrongness.He needed to leave. Now. And he needed to tell someone that something was going on with Twig.

[ofduskanddreams]

Drabble Event Masterlist

A list of all the fics written as a part of my 600 follower milestone celebration. You can find the series on AO3 or search the tag "kate's celebratory drabbles series" on my page to find them as well. All fics listed are less than a thousand words unless they are marked "*"

Give Over To The Fall ✦ Mor x Elain ✦ T

When Feyre and Nesta ditch girl's night, Elain and Mor head to Rita's alone, and long-simmering things boil over.

A Sunshiny Sound ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ G

Regency AU || Despite being friends (and neighbors) with Lucien Vanserra since childhood, Elain has spent the past months wondering if that friendship has come to an end as his letters have grown few and far between. Then he calls upon her one afternoon out of the blue, and things are not what they had seemed.

Otherworldly* ✦ Mor x Emerie ✦ G

Regency AU || Emerie leads a simple life. She has the store she inherited upon her father's death, her skill with a needle and thread, and far more independence than most of her peers could dream of. When she receives a mysterious request from the lady of the county, Emerie is too curious to deny it.

Like They Want To Lick You ✦ Azriel x Gwyn ✦ T

Modern AU || It never bothered her before, the hungry eyes that always followed Azriel wherever they went. But this is their honeymoon, he belongs to her now in every imaginable way, and she can't help feeling a little possessive.

The Sky Has No Walls ✦ Azriel & Rhys & Cassian ✦ T

Rhys and Cassian helping Azriel learn to fly.

Sensation and the Scent of Waterlilies ✦ Azriel x Gwyn ✦ M

Omegaverse AU || Azriel's heat finally ends and he feels incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful Alpha. This is just post-heat softness and Azriel being stupidly in love with Gwyn. There are only vague references to spicy things.

You're Lucky I Love You ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ G

Elain returns home from a meeting and can't find Lucien anywhere in the house. She checks the back garden and what she finds is the last thing she expects.

Reputation to Damage ✦ Nesta x Cassian ✦ M

Modern/Grad School AU || Every semester at Prythian University, a rumor goes around about a professor in a relationship with their TA. It's as predictable as gravity, but Cassian isn't sure how he feels about it this time... because the subject of the rumor might be him.

All That Matters ✦ Nesta x Cassian ✦ M

Picks up where ACOSF chapter 78 leaves off. After the ordeal of the Blood Rite, Briallyn, and Nyx's birth, Nesta and Cassian finally go home. Feelings are felt, love is demonstrated through care, and they finally get some much-needed rest.

Lack of Discretion ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ T

Modern AU || Elain has had a long week, but she's determined to beat her exhaustion and meet Vassa for drinks. They'd already had to reschedule it several times. Unfortunately, unforeseen circumstances prevent Vassa from joining her that night as well. At least the beautiful new bartender asks if he can join her when his shift ends.

This Lovely Enigma* ✦ Azriel x Eris ✦ M

Royalty AU || The law requires that King Eris Vanserra find a consort and partner within one year of taking the throne. Eris's expectations are low, and the line of prospective consorts being introduced to him is still managing to meet them or, at least, they were. Then Azriel walked into the throne room.

Truth or Dare, Azriel?* ✦ Gwynriel + Elucien ✦ M

Modern AU || It's their annual week up at Rhysand's family cabin. When Nesta and Cassian retreat to their room and Rhys and Feyre head off to theirs shortly after, the others know they'll need to occupy their time before risking going into the cabin. A tipsy game of Truth or Dare around the bonfire takes a few very interesting turns.

Warmth Lingers in the Smoke ✦ Azriel x Eris ✦ T

Regency AU || With his father recently deceased, Eris is leaving for London in the morning and all the duties that await him as the new Lord Vanserra. It's his last night walking the mile to Azriel's cottage on the neighboring estate and losing a few precious hours to the man he never meant to fall for.

[memory-redacted]

Random story idea i had a dream about and might write as a small project

I cant fully remember all that happens in my dreams so i generally dont write this stuff down cause they are too cut up for me ro remember why it was so interesting. This time tho it just seems like a great writing prompt that i might have fun with.

I remember a betelgeuse esc character as the "antagonist". More just a demon having fun doing his job. I also remember the first setting he starts the characters off in as this old pub in looking place kinda. Very brown and about 3 longish tables some cupboards and this big *seaches a pic*

This sort of thing but it also looks like it vould be some sort of window if it were outside. It had doors instead of the clock aswell and he would come out from within it. There was also a clock within the doors i think or something of the sort. From there things get super distorted as they go through sometimes dangerous and generally time bending trials till they finally get back to the same room. When they get back there is food on the tables, but one strict rule he placed at the beginning was to not eat unless it was explicitly given. He never tells what the consequences would be for this. After a second he comes back gives each a specific food that personifies each of them and how they went through the trials and one stands out for some reason i dont remember. He possesses this character and makes them go through a few more little things to get her back and eventually they leave. This happens annually for the next 3 years. The third year things go beyond his control. Before there had generally been a safety net. He never wanted to truly hurt this family and grew to like them. A bit too much for his bosses liking. His boss basically sets a ton of dangerous eel like huge flying creatures on them and he has to try his best to keep them from dying without making it too obvious. His boss gets mad when he succeeds and he gives a last farwell to the family as he lets them leave. The family doesnt realize hes gone for good and when the same time next year comes around they are confused to where their demon antagonist is. They had always seen him as an annoying villain not realizing the safety net that he had put up for them and were only slightly bothered to not have their yearly ritual as they couldn't help but admit it was quite fun family bonding. All exept for the one girl who had gotten that different dish. She had grown to be just as fond of the demon as he had of them and was very concerned that he didnt show. She always knew about his saftey nets and even sometimes had some fun playing around with his games. She manages to get her family to at least try and figure out why he was missing but in the end her and her father only get far enough to finding the place he generally takes them empty and abandoned. All but one lone peice of food (probably an apple). Her dad leaves but she stays and eventually seems to almost get pulled in by this apple. She goes to take a bite but the demon restraints her and gets pretty pissed off. His boss then shows up and decideds since he decided not to do his job this year that she would do it for him. They get thrown into an extremely dangerous game where they are both basically just yelling at eachother the entire time for being stupid. In the end they both almost die while trying to save eachother till the boss just gets fed up with them both. The boss seemingly manages to kill the girl but in reality just separated her from the demon and he no happy. She continues to put the girl through trials as he is basically acting like a toddler in a rage room. She begins to realize that he took a liking to this girl because of how she is able to see through his tricks and eventually trick him. The boss then gives her the apple and says that if she'd like her family tradition to continue she could eat the apple, but if she does then she becomes a demon aswell and must take part in the demons trickery and illusions on the same day every year and any other times they are scheduled. She then gets the info that the reason he was in trouble was because he kept grabbing the same family over and over without killing or tricking a single one into eating an ungifted food and becoming a demon. She eats the apple the boss reveals to her demom that she is still alive and he is pretty livid about all of this. In the end shes allowed to go back home to her old life, well at least her family since she opts to stay with the demon cause no rent or taxes, as long as she never tells her family about any of this. Wouldnt be fun if she did 😈

Idk why this kinda turned into a love story but yeah everything after the first 3 years was come up with after the dream and while typing this so thats kinda on me and im a bit mad at myself for it. Rn tho you can interpret their relationship however youd like. Thats all i have for now and i dont actually know if imma do anything with it just thought id share it here for organizational purposes

[ipsomaniac]

my company rescinded the benefit of giving us the days between xmas and new year off, and out of spite i refuse to take them out of my annual leave allowance, so now i am "working" the next three days i.e. logging on and doing nothing.

in theory it should be satisfying to be stealing time, but the problem is that i despise my work so much that merely looking at a single powerpoint deck is enough to induce suicidal thoughts. it's as if my mind is so bored, so intensely not-interested by what it attempts to focus on that the boredom becomes an active force of repulsion, and due to the lack of an obvious practical exit route my mind reflexively starts producing imagery of death and self-harm as the only form of escape fantasy it can come up with.

i think i have to change careers. although none of this suicidal ideation comes with intent, the fact is that i do actually experience vivid fantasies about self-harm and death pretty much every working day. when i spell it out that way it's clear that this can't continue. also, i can feel that with this much contempt for my job, i'm not going to be able to maintain a professional demeanour indefinitely. things have already started to slip a bit but i think i will start slipping in more noticeable ways before too long.

every time i open my work computer i dwell on this realisation. but i am no closer to knowing what i could do for a living instead. i desperately want to get out of marketing/advertising but changing fields will almost certainly result in a significant salary cut. i am willing and able to absorb that but it has to be for a worthwhile investment - something with at least semi-decent earning potential which won't drive me to despair in the longterm. i have to find something i actually want to aim for, and as usual i have zero internal compass giving me any sort of instinct for where to go next. i have never had a dream job or anything i wanted in particular to do. i got into marketing entirely cynically because it ticked certain boxes and i had a morbid curiosity to know my enemy. now after six years i can definitively say it's not worth knowing, and here i am back at the same awful blank drawing board.

[simplicius-simplicissimus]

A journey to the USA - a journey to myself!

Actually, you travel to discover new or foreign things. But sometimes you find yourself in the process. But one thing at a time.

I called my professor in the summer of 1993 just to make an appointment to submit my thesis. Shortly thereafter, I was employed at his technology transfer center. The federal state of Baden-Württemberg in Germany initiated many such transfer centers in order to transfer newly developed technology from universities to industry. I worked in a group of Engineers in a flat hierachy (beyond my boss there was only an assistant) and quite independently according to an annual working time model. When we reached 1,600 working hours, our obligation was fulfilled. We were able to do whatever we wanted with the overtime: take the time off, have it paid out or take it into the coming year. I used my accumulated overtime to travel for over 3 months with a backpack through my dream country at the time: the USA.

I originally wanted to travel with my best friend - but when a professional opportunity came up for him, he unfortunately dropped out. The same applied to a colleague who wanted to step in at short notice. So in the end I was left alone with my dream - and it was the best thing that could have happened to me.

When you travel alone, you are more sociable. You also always meet like-minded people in youth hostels, which I preferred for budget reasons. Nevertheless, especially in the western United States, I often found myself not speaking to anyone for days. I listened to a lot of US radio - but also noticed that in solitude you perceive your surroundings much more intensely. You are constantly thinking and reflecting on what your senses absorb. The moments leave a deeper impression on your consciousness - but above all, you don't talk such moments to death with someone else.

Although I had already traveled alone across half of Europe via Interrail, this trip was surely in a different category in terms of duration, distance traveled and planning effort. Booking portals, various informations on the Internet and mobile phones which make traveling easy today, didn‘t exist in 1996. It makes you braver when you realize that even if there are difficulties, you can always find a solution or someone who will help you in a friendly manner. For instance, I had to change a wheel for the first time in my life after a flat tire. And I certainly wouldn't have had many of the encounters at home which I had in the US. Not only because it's easy to approach Americans, but also because I was more open-minded as a traveler myself. And encounters rounded off this journey:

I met Bob in the youth hostel in Port Townsend on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. We had a nice conversation with a bald Australian who traveled the world and supported himself by writing guidebooks. Bob and I decided to visit Olympic National Park together over the next few days. This developed into a pen pal friendship that lasted for years and led to various meetings.

I briefly spoke to the Korean Pilho for the first time at the train station in Buffalo. I later met him again by chance in the youth hostel in San Francisco. We visited Berkeley together and also started a pen pal relationship. He studied in San Francisco for a year - before he returned to his homeland. Years later I met him and his beautiful Thai wife again in Tokyo - where he continued to study at Waseda University for a few more years. I heard the term “globalization” from him for the first time - because he dealt intensively with the topic.

There were many short and long encounters with simple exchanges about lifestyles up to deep philosophical and scientific discussions that even opened doors to new ways of thinking. But most of all, this trip grounded me again. After the trip I rested within myself. My inner state felt like this landscape:

Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite National Park - source: Wikipedia, Steve Dunleavy (Lake Tahoe, NV, USA)

I visited most states in the USA, spent in total over 6 months there in 5 trips and fell in love with the country and its people. I made friends there and, through my wife, I now even have relatives who live there and are US citizens. If I had been offered a job there 30 years ago, I would probably have emigrated. I dress very American and follow American news regularly. But the more I traveled overall, the more I learned to appreciate my own country (Germany). The psyche of the USA has also developed more negatively in the last 20 years - and these days I am quite critical of American politics. I now know that I already live in the best place for me - and there I will probably die some day.

Note: For more photos about my US trips - refer to my side blog „play-of-colors“.

[mbaspirant]

Learning from Experience and Fostering Open Communication

Speaker: Mr. Richard Anthony Tagle Position: President and Executive Director at E3 Alliance, Austin, Texas Inspirational Quote: “Always be in good faith. Do what is right, and not what is convenient.”

In our fifth CEO Series class, we had the pleasure of hearing from Mr. Richard Anthony Tagle. Mr. Tagle's journey is both fascinating and inspiring, starting from his days as a student at Ateneo, to migrating to America, and eventually finding his true calling. His leadership philosophy is deeply influenced by his personal journey and the lessons he has learned along the way.

When asked about his aspirations beyond his current achievements, Mr. Tagle expressed his enduring dream of creating a greater impact in the community. He envisions a future where more students achieve higher levels of education and where Public-Private Partnerships are significantly improved. His dedication to education and community development is evident, and it’s clear that his work is driven by a passion to make a lasting difference.

Mr. Tagle shared insights into what he believes constitutes a winning culture. Having held four President and CEO positions, he candidly discussed the mistakes he made in his first CEO role. He admitted that initially, he did not fully understand the responsibilities of a CEO and made numerous errors, particularly in fostering open communication with his team.

According to Mr. Tagle, the number one responsibility of a leader is to ensure that the team is fully aware of the organization's current status. This involves transparently sharing what the organization excels at and where improvements are needed. He believes that when people are aware of the organization's challenges, they are more inclined to contribute to overcoming them. If the problems are not communicated, employees are unable to assist in finding solutions.

Reflecting on this, I find this aspect of leadership incredibly important. In my previous blog entry, I mentioned my recent transition to a new company after six years with my former employer. One instance that stands out is when my previous company was striving to hit their first billion-peso revenue. My manager informed our department about the concern of not meeting the annual goal due to some delayed orders, leaving us 40 million pesos short. Armed with this knowledge, I aimed to help bridge the gap and was able to double my annual target booking, contributing an additional 32 million pesos. This significantly helped the company achieve its annual revenue goal. Open communication played a crucial role in aligning our efforts towards a common goal.

Mr. Tagle also emphasized the importance of policies that help employees prioritize their work and personal lives. While he acknowledged the concept of work-life balance, he argued that no policy can truly balance your life for you. Instead, individuals must take responsibility for managing their priorities. He stressed that while skills can be taught, passion cannot be instilled by policies alone.

I resonate deeply with this perspective. Each of us has unique situations and priorities, and it's essential to recognize that we are responsible for managing our own lives. Personally, I don't subscribe to the notion of a strict work-life balance because, as a sales professional, I often spend more time working than at home. The flexibility in my role, where I am measured by my output rather than office hours, is something I greatly appreciate. It allows me to manage my time effectively and meet both professional and personal obligations.

In my current company, we have policies that offer flexible working hours, such as starting early and leaving early to avoid traffic or adjusting work hours to accommodate personal commitments like dropping kids off at school. This flexibility has a significant impact on employees' lives, allowing them to fulfill family responsibilities without sacrificing their professional performance.

The insights shared by Mr. Richard Anthony Tagle highlight the importance of open communication, personal responsibility, and flexibility in creating a successful and fulfilling work environment. His experiences and reflections serve as valuable lessons for any aspiring leader. As I continue to navigate my own leadership journey, I am inspired to foster transparent communication, support my team in balancing their priorities, and uphold the values that drive both personal and organizational success.