#only rated T cause they’re drinking

[buff-muffin]

Bestowed The Crown

A one piece one shot: 1 827 words

Preview:

The commanders of the Whitebeard pirates laid up late on the Moby Dick, the summer air still warm on their skin even with the sun long past set. The crowd was small as it was no real celebration, they had been doing well these past days, and with a recent restock of ales, sake and other liquors they couldn’t help but treat themselves long after most of the crew had gone to bed. Just the sixteen of them up late and drinking amongst themselves, a rare yet welcomed pleasure.

They sat under the stars with candle light as a guide for clumsy hands, unsteady with alcohol through their systems as they smiled and chatted on the floor. It was a nice night, peaceful even. The ship had hauled anchor for the night and the boat continued to be washed by gentle waves. The island under their claim close to their left side helped to provide protection from the Grand Line storms and ease the night's worry.

They laughed among themselves. Empty plates at their side along with a few tossed empty bottles. The drinks did wonders to help them all relax to varying degrees. Ace was probably on his eighth now, judging by the bottles around his lap but his speech was still clear, though they could tell they were losing him a little. Thatch on his sixth was slurring a little and swaying, choosing to nurse the half empty cup in his hands. And Marco was only on his third, being much more mindful of his intake, rather preferring to avoid a hangover when the sun eventually chose to rise again.

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon��Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - August 15-21

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1. Smart hives and dancing robot bees could boost sustainable beekeeping

“[Researchers] developed a digital comb—a thin circuit board equipped with various sensors around which bees build their combs. Several of these in each hive can then transmit data to researchers, providing real-time monitoring. [… Digital comb] can [also] be activated to heat up certain parts of a beehive […] to keep the bees warm during the winter[…. N]ot only have [honeybee] colonies reacted positively, but swarm intelligence responds to the temperature changes by reducing the bees' own heat production, helping them save energy.”

2. Babirusa pigs born at London Zoo for first time

“Thanks to their gnarly tusks […] and hairless bodies, the pigs are often called "rat pigs" or "demon pigs” in their native Indonesia[….] “[The piglets] are already looking really strong and have so much energy - scampering around their home and chasing each other - it’s a joy to watch. They’re quite easy to tell apart thanks to their individual hair styles - one has a head of fuzzy red hair, while its sibling has a tuft of dark brown hair.””

3. 6,000 sheep will soon be grazing on 10,000 acres of Texas solar fields

“The animals are more efficient than lawn mowers, since they can get into the nooks and crannies under panel arrays[….] Mowing is also more likely to kick up rocks or other debris, damaging panels that then must be repaired, adding to costs. Agrivoltaics projects involving sheep have been shown to improve the quality of the soil, since their manure is a natural fertilizer. […] Using sheep instead of mowers also cuts down on fossil fuel use, while allowing native plants to mature and bloom.”

4. Florida is building the world's largest environmental restoration project

“Florida is embarking on an ambitious ecological restoration project in the Everglades: building a reservoir large enough to secure the state's water supply. […] As well as protecting the drinking water of South Floridians, the reservoir is also intended to dramatically reduce the algae-causing discharges that have previously shut down beaches and caused mass fish die-offs.”

5. The Right to Repair Movement Continues to Accelerate

“Consumers can now demand that manufacturers repair products [including mobile phones….] The liability period for product defects is extended by 12 months after repair, incentivising repairs over replacements. [… M]anufacturers may need to redesign products for easier disassembly, repair, and durability. This could include adopting modular designs, standardizing parts, and developing diagnostic tools for assessing the health of a particular product. In the long run, this could ultimately bring down both manufacturing and repair costs.”

6. Federal Judge Rules Trans Teen Can Play Soccer Just In Time For Her To Attend First Practice

“Today, standing in front of a courtroom, attorneys for Parker Tirrell and Iris Turmelle, two transgender girls, won an emergency temporary restraining order allowing Tirrell to continue playing soccer with her friends. […] Tirrell joined her soccer team last year and received full support from her teammates, who, according to the filing, are her biggest source of emotional support and acceptance.”

7. Pilot study uses recycled glass to grow plants for salsa ingredients

“"We're trying to reduce landfill waste at the same time as growing edible vegetables," says Andrea Quezada, a chemistry graduate student[….] Early results suggest that the plants grown in recyclable glass have faster growth rates and retain more water compared to those grown in 100% traditional soil. [… T]he pots that included any amount of recyclable glass [also] didn't have any fungal growth.”

8. Feds announce funding push for ropeless fishing gear that spares rare whales

“Federal fishing managers are promoting the use of ropeless gear in the lobster and crab fishing industries because of the plight of North Atlantic right whales. […] Lobster fishing is typically performed with traps on the ocean bottom that are connected to the surface via a vertical line. In ropeless fishing methods, fishermen use systems such an inflatable lift bag that brings the trap to the surface.”

9. Solar farms can benefit nature and boost biodiversity. Here’s how

“[… M]anaging solar farms as wildflower meadows can benefit bumblebee foraging and nesting, while larger solar farms can increase pollinator densities in surrounding landscapes[….] Solar farms have been found to boost the diversity and abundance of certain plants, invertebrates and birds, compared to that on farmland, if solar panels are integrated with vegetation, even in urban areas.”

10. National Wildlife Federation Forms Tribal Advisory Council to Guide Conservation Initiatives, Partnerships

“The council will provide expertise and consultation related to respecting Indigenous Knowledges; wildlife and natural resources; Indian law and policy; Free, Prior and Informed Consent[… as well as] help ensure the Federation’s actions honor and respect the experiences and sovereignty of Indigenous partners.”

August 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[allzelemonz]

Red Dead Redemption Scenarios: Spin the bottle

Pronouns: None Mentioned, masculine individual in mind while writing due to the settings/circumstances Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Kissing, references to sex Warnings: Kissing, spin the bottle, unestablished relationship, drinking, public kissing

Abe: 

A handful of the hands got drunk and invited the two of you to play when you and Abe came in from the day’s chores. Abe declined, as did you, not wanting to get stuck with someone you’d see everyday for the foreseeable future. But they pulled you along and you both joined the circle. Most of the hands don’t really care who they’re kissing or what gender they are when they’re drunk, long days call for attention where they can get it. So the bottle spins around and the pairs follow its whims.

When it’s Abe’s turn, the other hands have to encourage him. He reaches out and flicks the bottle until it spins in quick circles. He watches it closely, only one outcome in mind, and when it lands on you his face goes pink. The other hands snicker and gently push the two of you into the middle of the circle. Abe looks around nervously, only occasionally meeting your eyes. One of the hands pushes you into him and you catch yourself by gripping his waist. Abe holds your arms, helping you steady. When you look back at him he looks much more adorable than usual, so you press a soft kiss to his lips. The other hands cheer and you pull away, feeling Abe’s grip on your arms tighten just a bit. He pulls you back in, causing the hands to cheer much louder.

Bill Williamson: 

No one is more nervous than Bill in the large circle. It was Karen’s drunken idea and nearly the entire gang got roped into it. The spins have gone around, prompting unlikely pairings, but when your spin lands on Bill the circle is full of excited whispers. As if they know something the two of you aren’t quite sure of yet. Sean elbows you, urging you to meet Bill in the middle now that Javier has dragged him out. You stand, walking to meet him where he stands next to the low burning fire. Bill shifts on his feet, all eyes on the two of you.

You step closer, putting a hand on the back of his neck to pull him in. Your lips meet and the gang cheers when Bill puts his hands on your waist. His lips are dry but you don’t particularly care. Your fingers go into his hair and he melts into you. When you pull away, Bill’s face is pink under his beard. The gang is all giggles and shouts of encouragement so you take Bill’s hand and pull him out of the circle.

Charles Smith: 

Arthur dragged him into the circle, otherwise he wouldn’t have come anywhere near it. He’d rather be on watch. But as you stand to take your turn he finds himself hoping. The bottle spins and for a moment he fears it’ll stop on Arthur to his left, but it doesn’t, it lands on him. The girls lead the chorus of encouragement, all but shoving you towards him. Charles stands and you both look at each other for a moment.

“Get on with it already!” Sean calls, the rest of the circle following with a chorus of encouragement.

Charles steps close. “You don’t have to.”

You shake your head. “It’s alright.”

He carefully puts a hand on your cheek as he leans in. Your lips connect and he feels heat come over him when your hands rest on his waist. In the midst of cheers he can hear Arthur egging him on but he pulls away, not entirely comfortable with all the attention. Still, he catches your arm when you move to return to your spot and pulls you along to sit with him.

Colm O’Driscoll: 

The boys managed to get the boss drunk enough to sit him in the circle. While everyone may be terrified that their spin will land on him, everyone thinks it’s hilarious that the Colm O’Driscoll is waiting for random kisses like the rest of his gang. No one has landed on him, but he has been smirking and drinking along with everyone. When he puts his hand on the bottle the gang goes quiet. He stumbles when he steps back as the bottle spins, clearly drunker than he should be. It slows and most of you have pits in your stomach as you wait for it to stop. Then it lands on you and the tension transfers entirely on you.

Colm, however, grins and beckons to you. He’s surrounded by loyal O’Driscolls, no one would deny him and that includes you. As you approach, he pulls you down into his lap and doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours. The gang is quiet, unsure if the boss wants the attention, but as Colm continues and his hands wander over you, they continue on with the game. Colm’s bottle of whiskey is long forgotten in favor of finding an interesting place to rest between your thighs, unbothered by the presence of the gang around you.

Kieran Duffy: 

Bill told him it’s fine, joining the game, but he’s still nervous when he puts the hand on the bottle. He’s hardly drank anything tonight and going into this game sober doesn’t help the frantic beating of his heart as the spinning starts. He feels like it goes on forever, and he fears what will happen if lands on someone like Sean who hates him enough to hurt him. But then it lands on you and he feels relieved for a moment before the nerves come back when he meets your eyes.

He feels much better when you pull him in by the waist. The kiss feels real, not like the product of some game. It’s like you’re alone, like the gang isn’t there egging you on. Kieran can’t think of what to do with his hands so he just grips at the fabric covering your chest until you pull away. He can hardly breathe as you take his hand with a smile and pull him along with you.

Micah Bell: 

No one expected Micah to join the game but he sits halfway as drunk as the others as people take their turns. He sits up from his usual laid back stance when you grip the bottle and he smirks to himself when it lands on him. Javier and a few of the girls tell you you don’t have to, but you stand and sit by Micah. He removes his hat for you, a cocky look on his face because he knows you only agreed to play because you saw him in the circle. He saw the way you looked at him.

You kiss, soft and slow, and it kills him not to egg you on. He wants infinitely more than just your hand tugging at his hair. But he just kisses you back with what you give him, not keen on the gang seeing so much of you together. When you pull away he has a look in his eye that makes you shiver in all the right places. So once the gang moves on to Arthur’s turn you quietly pull Micah along with you back to your tent.

Sean MacGuire: 

He has made a comment on every spin so far. Sean doesn’t even need to be drunk for this, he’s just enjoying the game. Your spin has him quiet for a moment as he watches closely. When it lands on him he cheers like he’s won enough money to get to Tahiti. He runs over to you, pressing his lips to yours in a fury. You smile into it and your hands go to his hair as you both fall back to lay on the ground. The gang doesn’t pay attention to Sean, they know better, so they continue the game as Sean glues himself to you with the occasional giggle.

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

The Containment Diaries: Entry 5

Pairing: Virologist!Bob Floyd x Reader AND Aviator!Bradley Bradshaw

ApocalypseAU

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Warfare, Disease, Military Inaccuracies, Medical and Science Inaccuracies, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Breakdowns, Gore, I think that’s it?

- Entry 4 Here -

——————————

Additional Warning: This Entry is mostly just a whole lotta smut, more apocalypse fun to follow in Entry 6

18+ only beyond this point

——————————

You walked down the hall and stood for a moment outside room 12B. Part of you wasn’t sure if you were making the right choice in going to see Bradley, but something was pulling you to him.

You knocked three times and waited. You heard a shuffling inside and the door flew open. Bradley stood in front of you in sweats and shirtless, his dog tags dangling delicately in between his pecks. You immediately flushed bright red.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure what time to come.” You bit your lip.

“You’re right on time, come in.” He grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside.

“Right on time for what?” You laughed, hovering by the door.

“Sit, I’ll show you.” You did as he said and sat down on the small single bed you were sure was nowhere near big enough for someone Bradley’s size. He disappeared into the small en-suite and returned a moment later with a bottle of red wine and two plastic cups.

“I thought alcohol was strictly prohibited onboard?” You queried, but eagerly reaching for a cup as he poured. You needed a drink after the last few crazy days.

“It is, but… remember that Godfather I mentioned? Well lately he’s been more of a fairy Godfather, with everything going on he’s been a little less strict than usual, and he was never all that strict to begin with.” He chuckled, sitting next to you with his cup and cheersing you.

You smiled at him as you took a sip, immediately relaxing. “What’s the occasion?”

Bradley went quiet for a moment, and then looked into your eyes, suddenly serious.

“We’re flying out to the mainland tomorrow. It’s gotten bad Rue.” He nodded, a somber look taking over his usually cheerful face.

“Wait, what do you mean? Flying out for what?” You asked, suddenly filled with nerves.

“According to the CDC infection rates have skyrocketed, symptoms are slow to start but when they do they’re goddamn fast, and that’s just causing widespread panic, it’s absolute chaos. Tactical bombing has turned to just nuking whole cities, and we’re only a few days in. They want us on the ground with our army boys and girls to try and control the situation.” He said gravely, and your heart thumped aggressively in your chest.

“Bradley, you can’t…” you breathed, suddenly terrified for him.

“Don’t have a choice.” Bradley shrugged, “That’s why I was hoping to see you tonight.” He admitted. His face was close enough that you could smell the wine on his breath.

“You need to come back.” You told him.

“If I know you’re here waiting for me, I’ll do everything I can to come back.” He rasped.

You pressed your lips to his gently, suddenly desperate to feel him against you, thinking this may be your one and only chance.

Bradley took your drink from your hand and put it on his side table sloppily, wine spilling out over the sides. He pulled your legs so you were straddling him as he kissed you back, his hands remaining on your upper thighs.

You sighed into him and wrapped your arms around his neck as his strong hands squeezed your thighs, kissing him harder.

Bradley flipped you over so you were laying against his bed, as he continued his assault on your lips.

You pulled away for a moment to breathe and he moved to your neck, placing sloppy kisses down to your collar bone.

He grabbed the hem of your t shirt and pulled it over your head, and then tugged your sweats off in one quick motion.

You suddenly felt self conscious as the cool air kissed your skin, clad in nothing but your small black underwear.

Bradley took a moment to admire you, his eyes blown and his mouth hung open slightly.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered.

“Come here.” You mumbled, hooking a finger around his dog tags and gently pulling him to you. Bradley crawled back up your body until his lips were back on yours, his bare skin hot against yours.

You made out for what felt like forever, savouring the feeling of each others lips and hands as they explored one another, before Bradley’s fingers found your bra clasp, and rid you of the offending item. His hand immediately replaced the bra and you moaned loudly at the feeling, bucking up into him.

“That feel good?” Bradley mumbled in between kissing your neck. You whimpered as he ground his hips into you.

“Yes.” You hissed, and he did it again, before moving down and capturing your nipple in his mouth.

You needed more, all Bradley was doing was teasing you. It had been such a long time since you’d last been intimate with anyone, and the sexual tension from the last few days was proving to be too much.

You hooked your thumbs into your underwear sides and yanked them down, causing Bradley’s jaw to drop fully as he looked down. He sat back on his heels and slowly peeled your underwear off of your legs, gently kissing your ankles as he lifted them.

He slid two fingers into his mouth and sucked, before spreading your legs apart and making eye contact with you.

“You want this?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Tell me how badly you want it.” He growled.

“I want you so bad!” You mewled at him, growing frustrated and impatient. The man looked like a God in the lamp light, golden and chiselled, you couldn’t take it.

Bradley grinned at you and slowly ran his fingers through your soaking wet folds. Your back arched at the sensation, begging for more.

Carefully, he slid a thick finger inside you, you moaned and bucked again as a second finger entered, and he began to pump, his thumb rubbing lazy circles into your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried, and he began to move faster, pulling whimpers from your mouth as you squirmed below him.

He palmed himself through his sweatpants as he watched his handiwork unfold, your wetness growing as his fingers slid in and out.

Your stomach began to tighten but you didn’t want it to yet. “Bradley stop! I need you.” You whined, now looking at him.

“Yes ma’am.” He purred, standing to remove his sweats and underwear. His rock hard member slapped against his chiselled torso, the size of him sure to tear you apart, but you didn’t care.

He climbed on top of you and kissed you passionately, you wrapped your legs around him as he positioned his tip at your entrance. You bucked again, and his tip slid in, stretching you in a way that made you want to cry out in pleasure. You and Bradley bucked in rhythm as more and more of him slid inside you, he grunted loudly, almost animalistically when he was fully seated.

“Oh my god, you feel so good.” He gasped, thrusting slowly.

You couldn’t speak, instead a series of pornographic noises between the two of you became a sort of communication as you paid all the attention to one another’s bodies. Rocking into one another and causing the metal framed bed to pound against the wall, your legs wrapped tightly around him.

You cried out and your body shuddered violently as you reached your climax, clenching around Bradley even tighter, causing him to reach his own end. His thrusts became sloppy and fast, as he bit your shoulder, grunting loudly as he came undone.

He collapsed on top of you and you both panted together, stealing a few more kisses until you had regained enough strength to pull away.

You cleaned yourselves up and spent the rest of the evening drinking wine in your underwear and sharing kisses in between conversation, until it was 3am and you knew you had to say goodnight.

“I don’t want you to go.” You admitted, terrified of what waited for him on the mainland.

“I have to, there are a lot of people counting on me. They need me.” Bradley stroked your hair as you leaned against the open door frame.

“What if I need you?”

Bradley smiled and kissed you for a long moment. “You don’t need me. But I’m coming back for you, Rue girl.” He promised as he pulled away.

“You better.” You smiled at him one last time before you walked down the hall to your room.

————————————

You spent the next day very much unable to focus. Every time you tried desperately to focus on the very important task at hand, your mind slipped inadvertently back to Bradley, and your stomach knotted with worry.

Bob had noticed your lack of mental presence and concentration, but chose not to say anything, as he knew it was not his place.

That was until around 2pm, when due to being distracted, you had knocked a glass beaker off of your desk and it landed with a deafening crash in the otherwise silent room, everyone turning to stare at you, like you had done something unforgivable.

You couldn’t hold in the frustration and pent up emotions anymore, so you huffed, rid yourself of your lab coat and stormed out of the room, muttering that you’d be back to clean up the glass later.

Bob looked around at your colleagues with wide eyes, “Everyone carry on with your work, I’ll be back.” He instructed, running after you.

He found you down the end of the long hallway, your hands covering your face as you paced, your chest heaving as you panted through what he thought looked to be the makings of a panic attack.

He crossed the hallway quickly and took you in his arms, “Hey, hey, it’s ok.” He muttered, as you melted into him and began to cry.

“Hey, it was just a beaker, we have more.” He chuckled softly.

“No, that’s not it.” You sobbed.

“Then tell me what’s going on.” He said, pulling away slightly so he could look at you, stroking your hair.

“I can’t.” Your bottom lip jutted in a pout, and Bobs heart melted. He looked around the hallway, and gave you a quick but sweet kiss.

You hummed.

“Yes you can, you can tell me anything Rue.” He pressed. You kissed him back, longer this time, your lips wet with tears.

“I can’t Bob, just trust me that I can’t. I need a distraction.” You breathed, beginning to unbutton Bobs shirt.

“Woah woah, hey, not here.” He breathed, taking your hand and pulling you down the hall.

Once you had reached Bobs room, he closed the door, and you pushed him up against it, kissing him hungrily.

“Wait, Rue. I can’t do this when you’re upset.” He grabbed your hands gently and pushed you backwards until your legs hit the bed and you sat down.

You huffed, “Then why’d you bring me back here, Bob?”

“Because I want you to talk to me, what’s going on with you today?” The worried look on his face unfaltering. God he was so handsome, you just wanted to rip his clothes off and-

“Rue?” Bob pressed. You sighed, throwing yourself back on the bed as you stared up at the ceiling.

You contemplated whether or not it was a good idea to tell him, ultimately deciding to be honest.

“Bradley and his squad have been sent to the mainland, he says it’s gotten out of control, Bob. And here I am unable to focus enough on a stupid cure that could fix it all.”

“I’m assuming Bradley’s the other guy?” Bob sighed. You nodded.

Bob leant back so he was laying next to you, and he took your hand in his, threading his fingers in between them.

“Listen, it’s not our fault that the outbreak started, so that at least shouldn’t be on your mind. Here we are being tasked with this mammoth, burden of a responsibility that we had zero say in, and we’re doing our best. You’re doing your best. There are going to be good days and bad, Rue, don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

You turned your head to look at him, weighing up his words as you got lost in his cobalt eyes. You turned your head back to the ceiling and sighed heavily.

“Bradley and I fucked last night.” You blurted out.

Bobs eyes went wide, and he joined you in staring at the ceiling again.

“Do you want to be with him… more?” He asked.

“No, my feelings for you both are equal. It’s not fair I know, but… you’re both so different, both in incredible ways. You can tell me to fuck off if you want.”

Bob chuckled suddenly in surprise. “No, I won’t do that. I want you too badly.”

You looked at him again, and brought a hand over to caress his face gently.

You bit your lips at his words, you wanted him so badly in that moment.

“Will you fuck me, Bob?” You asked, not caring about how crass your question came across.

Bob shook his head, “No.” he mumbled. Your heart sank.

“I won’t fuck you Rue, but I’ll make love to you if you’ll let me.”

Your heart thrummed against your chest, as Bob rolled over to his side.

His hand gently skimmed the bare skin of your stomach that peaked through under your T-shirt. The feeling sent electric shocks through you.

He dipped his head and captured your lips hungrily, and your hands moved to tangle in his hair.

Bob gently drew patterns on your skin before his fingers dipped below your jeans, eliciting a gasp from you as they slipped below your underwear and through your already slick folds.

Bob wasted no time in slipping inside you as he kissed your lips, his tongue licking across your bottom lip to ask for entrance. You granted this and his tongue slipped into your mouth, expertly exploring yours.

He slipped in a second thick finger and began to pump gently, you moaned into his mouth and your chest heaved as you began to pant with pleasure. You could feel Bob growing harder and harder through his pants against your leg, and you moved your hand to rub his bulge.

Bob grunted at the feeling and you took this as permission to clumsily unzip his pants, pumping his now free cock slowly. God he was also massive, your poor body would be stretched and bruised but you didn’t care. Bob growled lowly into your lips, and his thumb moved to rub gentle circles into your now throbbing clit. You bucked your hips at the feeling and Bob picked up the pace until you were panting and whining for more than just his delicious hands on you.

Bob bit your bottom lip and pulled away, you immediately missed the stretch of his fingers and lips on yours.

Bob stood and unbuttoned his shirt while you watched, you were a little surprised at how chiselled and tanned he was below his professional attire, and once he rid himself of his pants, he no longer looked like Dr Bob Floyd from Virology, no, this man was your Bobby. Messy hair, wild eyes behind his steamy glasses, a perfect body and veiny arms, he looked different somehow.

You sat up and whipped your shirt off, and shimmied out of your jeans until you were just in your underwear. Bob held up a hand to instruct you to leave them on as he crawled back up to you. He slowly kissed a line up your legs, stopping to give extra attention to your hot core through your soaking underwear. You threw your head back against the mattress as he licked a stripe up the fabric and moved to pepper kisses along your stomach and up the valley of your breasts. He snuck a hand behind your back and unclasped your bra, using his teeth to pull it off of you. He took a second to marvel at your body below him, naked and soft and beautiful, as he dropped your bra into his lap and threw it aside.

Bob then took two large hands and wrapped them around your upper thighs, pulling you down the bed, closer to him. He rubbed his hands teasingly up your thighs, and hooked his fingers in your soaking underwear, pulling them off slowly.

Bob spat into his hand and pumped himself, before running his fingers through your folds again, dipping back inside you and curling his fingers expertly against your g spot.

You choked out a pleasured sob as you clenched around his fingers, and he slowly removed them.

Bob looked you in the eyes as he positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly pushed into you. You gasped and Bob moaned at the feeling of him stretching out your tight walls.

“Bobby!” You cried, back arching and eyes closing tight. His hands squeezed around your thighs as he let you both adjust to the feeling.

“W-want me to stop?”

You shook your head, “No, don’t stop. You feel so good, please move.” You begged, and Bob did as he was told, his mouth half hanging open in pleasure and half in a crooked grin. Sitting back on his heels with your lower half angled up towards him, he thrust into you slowly, gripping one hand on your thigh as the other moved to your hip, pulling you into him. Grunts of pleasure left Bobs lips as he thrust, and you felt you might scream from the pleasure. Bob felt incredible, there was something about his slow and intentional movements that sent shockwaves through you.

The hand that had been on your thigh moved to your stomach, and flattened against you as he pressed down gently. You now felt Bobs thick cock rubbing against your cervix walls, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your jaw hanging open.

“Oh my god!” You cried, your hands gripping the sheets as you bucked your hips into him hard.

Bob picked up his pace and began to thrust harder, now leaning over you. He grabbed your jaw and tilted your face to look at him, your brows furrowed and you bit your lip.

“Tell me how I make you feel.” He instructed, this new Bob was seriously turning you on.

Bradley had done you well and good the night before, it was pleasurable and beautiful and left you wobbling afterwards, but this was a whole new ballgame, shy Bob could fuck.

You were a blabbering mess, unable to get any words out as he ground into you.

“I said, tell me how I make you feel.” He instructed again, his thumb pushing into your mouth. You gently bit down on the digit and Bob hissed.

“Like that. That’s how you make me feel.” You whined.

Bob grinned and planted his lips to yours again as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

“You feel incredible.” He moaned into you. “Now come for me like a good girl.”

This sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling again as your back arched. Bob took one of your nipples into his mouth and swirled his hot tongue around it.

“Bob I’m gonna cum, don’t… don’t stop.” You moaned loudly, and Bob picked up the pace, thrusting harder into you as his lips moved to suck bruises into your neck.

“That’s my good, dirty girl.” He growled into your neck, and that was your undoing. You nails dug into his back as you bucked violently, clenching around him as you screamed his name.

Bob followed shortly after, the scene unfolding under him too hot to ignore, and hot ropes of cum spilt into you as he cursed loudly, his thrusting grew sloppy and ground to a halt.

Panting, he hovered over you for several minutes, admiring your beautiful flustered face, eyes black with lust and swollen lips. You lifted a hand to remove his foggy glasses so you could look into his eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck and down his red chest.

“Not gonna lie, the glasses really get me going.” You chuckled, and Bob collapsed with his head on your chest as he laughed.

You both eventually made it back to the lab, walking on wobbly legs and both very clearly having been up to something. The smiles on your faces evidently opposite to how you had left the room.

Safe to say you received a few glares from your female colleagues as you went back to work, but at least now you could focus on the task at hand.

———————————

- Entry 6 Here -

I don’t have a Taglist for this series but I will be updating my Masterlist as I go 💛

Likes and reblogs super welcome and appreciated!

[finishwhatyoustarted-event]

Finished It Friday - September 13

Happy #FinishedItFriday! Here we can celebrate everyone who has finished a project in the first two weeks of the event. I will update this thread throughout the day. Have you finished a work as part of this event? Tag your post with #IFinishedWhatIStarted2024 so I can boost it!

These first two weeks really flew by! I completely missed it yesterday, so you get it today.

Twitter post here

Fanfictions

Wish: Extras by sasuhina_gal

Miraculous Ladybug - Rated T - Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine - Lila and Adrien's Lives are Switched, Fluff and Angst, Ladybug Luka Couffaine - "Even though the wish has changed Adrien's life forever, sometimes, the past has a way of poking at you, even if you don't remember what it was."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57902863/chapters/149604478

 beloved, betrayer by ubepandeSol 

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated G - Nico di Angelo & Percy Jackson - Unrequited Crush -"|Nico knows now that he shouldn’t have trusted his father, but his sister Bianca once told him that there are a number of things he can only know for sure when he tests the waters. There are also a number of reasons why he shouldn’t have followed this advice, a number that does not matter right now. They’re Bianca’s words. Sometimes, Nico indulges this gut churning feeling that leads him to listen to the dead.| Chapter 8 of The Last Olympian, from Nico di Angelo's point of view."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58783639

Sick with Guilt by Akinasky 

Teen Wolf - Rated T - Derek Hale/Stiles StilinskiSheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski - Underage Drinking, Anxiety, Derek Hale is a Good Boyfriend - "Stiles gets drunk, has anxiety about his dad finding out about the supernatural and goes to Derek about it." 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58674040/chapters/149505505

 Too Much Pie by Akinasky 

Content warnings: Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Vomiting - The Last of Us (TV) - Rated T - Ellie & Joel, Joel & Tommy - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ellie Needs a Hug, Ellie and Joel Bonding - "Ellie's never had pie before, something happens the first time she does. She can't seem to control herself." 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58677097

 Joel's Hoodies are Safety by Akinasky 

Content warning: Panic Attacks - The Last of Us (TV) - Rated T - Ellie & Joel - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sharing Clothes, Ellie and Joel Bonding, Vaccine was Created - "Ellie doesn't know how to feel about clothes and having preferences but she knows that she feels the safest in Joel's hoodies. Sub plot: Maria's distrust of Joel is causing harm for Ellie and the Miller family has it out." 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58834027

 Only Awake, Not Really Living by Akinasky 

NSFW, content warnings: vomiting, somewhat graphic description of character death - The Last of Us (TV) - Rated M - Ellie & Joel - Canon Compliant, post episode 8, Episode Related, Fainting - "Joel and Ellie holed up in a small cabin after the events of episode 8."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58747969

 please, hurry, leave me by ubepandeSol 

NSFW - Given (manga & anime) - Rated M - Kaji Akihiko/Murata Ugetsu - Toxic Relationship, Angst with no happy ending, Implied Sexual Content, Canon-Typical Altercations -" |Stay and listen. Any story about heartbreak could still be a love story if it’s told in reverse. Let’s go back to the summer before that, then.| Two people who've broken up remained to break each other's hearts thereafter over and over again. It wasn't always like that between them."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58922758

idv kink meme fills by overmore - Chapter 4: Joseph/Aesop + somnophilia, dubcon 

NSFW, Content Warnings: Sexual Content, Dubious Consent - 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game) - Rated E - Aesop Carl | Embalmer/Joseph Desaulnier | Photographer - Trans Aesop Carl | Embalmer, Somnophilia - No summary given.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52063255/chapters/149628343

Videos

Fic Trailer for "one hand on the trigger (the other hand in mine) // 暗线"

NSFW, content warning: gun violence - Mysterious Lotus Casebook - Di Feisheng/Li Lianhua, Li Lianhua & Fang Duobing - "Ten years ago, Li Xiangyi went undercover to investigate a crime syndicate known as the Di Family Business. When his adopted brother dies during a failed sting operation, because of his mistake, he goes underground. Meanwhile, a fellow bright young police recruit named Di Feisheng, who was in the academy with Li Xiangyi, rises steadily through the police ranks… Ten years later, when his brother's only son Fang Duobing joins the police academy as well, Li Xiangyi is forced to face the secrets of the past. (The fic is still a WIP but here's a teaser fanvid first 🙈 )"

[ali-annals]

angel, don't fly so close to me (i'll pull you down eventually)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: T | CW: recreational drinking, poor flirting (not inappropriate) | WC: 430 | Ao3 | Prompt | for @otome-wandering | A/N: not beta'd & written in like 30 minutes, so feel free to point out any typos <3

Jason's not the best at flirting; luckily the girl he's interested in thinks his attempts are cute anyways

The quiet R&B tune playing over the speakers muffled the noises of the bar just after its rush hour, melding into one not disharmonious layer of noise.

Headlights passing by cast stripes of lights across a young woman’s face as she gazed out, chin propped on her hand as she bobbed a toothpick-stabbed olive in her martini glass absentmindedly. 

The man at the bar counter mirrored her position, only staring at her instead of the bleak rainy night outside. The bartender caught his attention, and he straightened, turning away from the object of his thoughts to close his tab. 

Tucking his wallet back into his inner jacket pocket, he was distracted from his surroundings, blinking in surprise when he looked up again and the woman was perched on the stool one over from his.

She received the replenished glass with a small smile and nod of thanks, sipping at the drink appreciatively.

Deciding he’d better regret the things he does that the things he doesn’t, he swiveled on the stool, leaning a little closer so he wouldn’t have to shout over the buzz of the business. 

Noticing his attempt to get her attention, she leaned in a little as well, turning her stunning baby blues to study his face. 

He cleared his throat. “Did you fall from heaven?”

Her brow furrowed at his strange opener.

Flustered, he tried to remember how the next part of the pickup line went. This was why he never tried to pick up people at bars (or anywhere else).

“‘Cause that would explain what happened to your face.”

The incredulous look on her face deepened. “Excuse me?”

She even had a cute French accent, a small part of his brain noticed, while the rest yelled at him to fix this horrible flub.

“Wait, no, that came out wrong!” Panicking, he waved his hands earnestly at her. “I’m so sorry.” He hung his head. “I should’ve stopped a drink ago…and not tried pickup lines; they’re not my style. Have a good night.”

Her soft voice paused him as he slid off his stool, prepared to leave in ignominy.

He glanced back.

She was smiling earnestly at him. “You happen to be my type, and you’re polite, even if it comes across awkwardly. It’s cute. Will you stay while I finish my drink?”

He nodded, hopping onto the stool next to her that she patted in invitation. “I’m Jason.”

“Marinette,” she grinned over the rim of her glass. She shook his hand calmly. “It’s nice to meet you. So, if pickup lines aren’t your style, what is?”

Taglist (open): @jennifer-rose123 @questioning-blob-of-fog @official-jasonette-server

[angst-fairygodmother]

Darkened Hearts (The Umbrella Academy)

It’s been ten years of trying to move on. But when Reginald Hargreeves’ death sets off a snowball of events leading to the end of the world, you may as well throw in reuniting with an ex. But can Diego and Y/N set aside their difference and fix things, before the countdown ends and the world blows up the same way as their marriage?

CHAPTER 1: BAD IDEA

Word Count: 2293 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x (fem)Reader Warnings: Drug references, references to canon-typical violence, canon-typical language Rating: T Cross-posted to AO3: here

A Sequel to Light Fingers

There were still days when your bare ring finger felt wrong, naked and exposed, or like a piece was missing. Today was one of those days, and you wished you knew why, the foreboding in your stomach heavy and almost painful. But you forced yourself out of bed anyway, forced yourself to put on your uniform and go to work for a double-shift and pretend that everything was just fine. 

~

“Hey Y/N,” one of the busboys called from where the rest of the kitchen staff were all crowded around the small television set, “Hargreeves. Isn’t that your ex’s last name?”

You frowned, setting down the cup you had been drying off and joining them. 

“The explorer and intellectual, perhaps best known for his controversial adopted children, The Umbrella Academy, was found in his home after a complete heart failure and cardiac arrest,” the reporter continued, reading from a sheet of paper. 

“Well damn, who knew he even had one of those?” you muttered, watching the images flashing on the screen as the woman continued on cheerfully, describing Reginald’s various accolades, glossing over or ignoring entirely his flaws.

“Authorities pronounced him dead on the scene, and the world now watches with baited breath for what happens next? Will the estranged young superheroes return for their father’s funeral, and will any of them claim his place as patriarch and headmaster of the once-famed Academy?”

You wondered if you should call Diego. What would you say? He wouldn’t want your sympathy, if anything he’d be glad the man was dead. But it seemed crass to suggest getting a drink together, for old time’s sake, to celebrate. 

You shook your head, forcing your eyes from the staticy screen. Probably best to do nothing. 

~

An hour or so later, the doorbell chimed as someone came in, despite the fact that the door should have been locked.

“We’re closed,” you called, not looking up from your task refilling boxes of sugar packets. 

“Y/N!” a familiar voice called dramatically. “I thought you’d be here, you workaholic you.”

“Klaus?” you startled, looking up to stare at him as he sauntered in. “What are you doing here?”

“Well. I was on my way to dear old dad’s funeral. I’m sure you heard that he croaked. And I thought, hm. I should bring a plus one, and who better than my best friend in the whole world who used to be married to my brother til he was stupid enough to let you get away.”

“That’s a long winded way of saying you’re trying to cause trouble on purpose.”

“No. I’m saying, don’t you want to see Diego? You can offer him...comfort?”

“I can’t do that Klaus. Diego and I have to stay out of each other’s lives.”

“Why?” his voice took on a whiny quality. “You’re like the only person he’s ever actually liked. I’ve never seen Diego smile before. Or since. Just when you two were together.”

You felt your resolve wavering before you swallowed those emotions back down. “It’s like...heroin.”

“What?” 

You motioned for Klaus to take a seat on one of the stools across from you, already pouring him a cup of coffee from the pot the staff had made to get through cleanup. 

“When a person gives up heroin, it’s because they know they’re addicted. They need it and rely on it, and quitting is acknowledging that’s a problem. It’s not healthy or safe or good for you.”

“Diego wasn’t safe? Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him if he did.” Klaus’s brows knit together, studying your face carefully. Despite his usual peacefulness, something in the way he said it made you believe him, and it sent a chill through you. 

“No. That’s not...stay with me here okay, please? Even once you’ve acknowledged those things and given it up, it’s not gone just like that.” You snapped your fingers. “Right? You miss it, and mourn it, and...crave it. But you can’t give into that feeling. You can’t let yourself surrender. So whenever you feel that itch, that hunger and heartbreak gnawing at you and determined to leave a hole in your gut you...chew a piece of gum or whatever instead. To distract yourself.”

“You replaced my brother with gum?” his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “No. I mean there may have been an attempt to with the cute girl from--” you shook your head, interrupting yourself. “It’s a metaphor Klaus. The point is that you can’t go back to the heroin. You can’t call it and check up on it and see how it’s doing. Or go to its father’s funeral and offer your condolences. You can’t apologize or say you made a mistake and gave up the best thing in your life and that losing it was the worst pain you’ve ever felt and I know it’s my fault and can we please please start over and try again.” 

You were near tears and turned your back to your friend to try and hide them. 

“With this conversation? Absolutely. I’m confused.” His voice had a teasing lilt that grated in the wake of how serious you were trying to be.

You growled in frustration, turning sharply back to him. “Clearly using a drug metaphor with you was a bad idea. I thought it’d help you understand but you’ve never willingly quit one in your life.”

“Hey! I’ve gone to rehab…”

“By force or for the convenience of a bed. And stole pills from the nurses’ station usually.”

“You’re being very mean.”

“You can leave whenever you want.”

“He needs you, Y/N. Not that he’ll ever admit it.”

“Klaus, please…” you sighed, closing your eyes. When you opened them again, he was gone, empty coffee cup the only trace he’d been more than a figment of your imagination.

~

Diego knew it was all bullshit, most of what Luther ever said was, but he couldn't stop thinking about it anyway. "It was personal" "someone with a grudge." And his own conclusions that there were no signs of forced entry or struggle. Not many people had both motive and means to pull it off: Reginald's five remaining children, only three of whom were in town and able to get to the Academy; maybe Pogo, although he'd never seen anything to think the chimp thought less than the best of the old man; and her. His ex-wife hated his father, maybe even more than he did, for everything he had done, directly or indirectly. And she was an expert thief, if anyone could get in and out undetected it would be her. He wanted to believe the coroner's report, to believe that at the end of the day Reginald was human enough to die of something mundane. But even if he did, Number One never would, and Y/N would be the top of his suspect list.

It would almost be for the best if it was her, if the other options were his siblings. That's what he tried to tell himself anyway as he threw a dagger to land between the eyes of a looming water buffalo. For the split second between when the blade left his fingers to when it thunked into place, he even considered how easy it would be to point Number One in that direction and let him go. 

“Diego, please. I’ve told you this already, but I’ll keep saying it until you believe me,” her voice rang in his ears, one of the few, failed attempts to sit down and work things out. “I wouldn’t have been sad if your father had been caught in the crossfire. In fact I probably would have gotten a pinata with his face on it. But I swear. On my mother, on my brother, on my father’s grave. Luther was not supposed to be there. And I never wanted anyone to get hurt.” 

Back then, he wouldn’t have doubted it for a second. But now…something just didn’t feel right. He was still contemplating the theory, turning it over in his mind like he frequently turned a knife in his hand, spinning it to the tune of the music drifting through, when a sound like thunder crashed and the room went dark. All thought of his ex and his father’s death left his mind in a rush as he rushed out to the courtyard, following the direction of both the noise, and the metal which all seemed to be suddenly magnetized toward its adjoining walls. 

~

It had been a few hours, but Klaus's words still plagued you. In many ways, he was right. You missed Diego, more than you could find the words for or even wrap your thoughts around. You had just pushed those feelings down further and further, a dammed tide as resentment and time became a wall between you. But there were still floodgates, and the mechanisms might be rusted to hell but a little grease could open them, in theory.

This was a unique opportunity. And you were concerned about what the loss, and the reunion with his siblings, might be doing to his head. It was just the nice thing, the right thing, to try and reach out.

It was a flimsy excuse, but you let it carry you and played it over and over while you toyed with the end of a sleeve and dialed the number on the old, faded post-it.

You almost hung up on the first ring, sucking a deep breath through your nose and steeling yourself when no one answered. 

The phone kept ringing, and you were just about to give up entirely when a voice you half-recognized answered.

“Hello? Who is this?” they asked.

“Uh. Hi. I’m looking for Diego Hargreeves. I’m a...an old friend, and I heard about his father…”

“He already left. I don’t know if he’ll be back for you to leave a message.”

“Oh. That’s okay. Am I speaking to one of his siblings then?”

“Yes. This is Luther Hargreeves.”

‘Shit,’ you couldn’t help thinking. ‘Of course it would be the sibling you most wanted to avoid.’

“Oh. I...I’m sorry for your loss then. I won’t take up any more of your time…”

“What did you say your name was again?”

“I...didn’t. I’m Y/N…”

“Y/N? As in--” you hung up the phone in a panic before he could finish his question and then sat, staring at the phone as if afraid it would, or daring it to, ring.

He had already left. He hated his father and that house. There was no reason to linger now, so he would have wasted no time. He was probably back at the Lion (you briefly considered calling there too, but Al was terrible at forwarding calls in the best times) or out on patrol.

You scrubbed your hands tiredly over your face and laughed bitterly at yourself. The whole idea had been so stupid.

~

Klaus rushed to follow his brother as he walked off. This day had been a laughable disaster, and it was probably a good thing that Y/N hadn't come after all. But he still wanted to do something. He missed happy Diego (he missed all of his siblings, Diego especially. Other than Ben, he had lost track of all of them a bit, or maybe more aptly lost himself. But this wasn't about him. It was about doing something good for once, and fixing Diego and Y/N's relationship, for them).

As he climbed into the back of the car over protest, he made a comment, something flippant and off-color and out of nowhere that he forgot as soon as it left his lips, and smiled when Diego cracked a smile in spite of himself. That was good, that was a start. 

They turned down dark side streets in silence while Klaus gnawed on a hang nail and tried to think.

“Hey, about what you said to Allison, the failed marriage thing,” he started suddenly.

“I don't want to talk about it Klaus,” Diego growled. “Just tell me where I'm dumping your ass so today can finally be over.”

“It's just…it felt like projection. And I'd know all about that. Do you want to talk about you and–”

“No Klaus, I just said I don't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. It's over. It's done.”

“But–” Klaus yelped as Diego turned a sharp corner and he was nearly knocked into Ben's spectral lap. He gritted his teeth as he sat back upright. The direct approach was out then, time for plan B, in this case standing for Breakfast. Or maybe it should be D for Diner? W for Waitress? 

Not long after, they were parked down by the water, Diego doing something that involved a lot of staring and brooding, which was not unusual, but left Klaus uncomfortably alone with his thoughts, which were not being very productive. The only remotely helpful thing he remembered thinking was that the diner would be closing soon, and if they didn’t get there, it would all be wasted, take two, and he wouldn’t get a third try.

Klaus heard the vague crackle of Diego's bootleg police scanner but decided not to pay much attention to it, since through the closed door he couldn’t hear what exactly was said.

“Diego, thank you for joining us, we have decided on…drumroll…” he tapped tapped a rough pattern on the back of his brother’s seat, “wwwaafflllles.”

“I’m gonna drop you off at the bus stop. I gotta get back to work.”

Klaus's heart sank. And then somehow sank again when Diego slipped his old mask on, a sure sign there was no chance of changing his mind.

So much for a reunion.

[lotusthewriter]

It's just the beasts under your bed (in your closet, in your head)

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: T

Relationships: Gus & Hunter, Gus & Belos

Characters: Gus Porter, Hunter, Emperor Belos | Philip Wittebane; CAMEO - Caleb Wittebane

Summary: Gus runs away from the gentle, haunting light, to the dark and even smaller bathroom. His eyes are blue again, so they’re the only thing lighting up the place. He uses Willow’s breathing technique over and over again, and again, and again.

And it won’t work.

It won’t work because…

Gus’ blue eyes aren’t the only ones in the room.

Word count: 989

AO3

A/N: I finally wrote down a little something for the ideas I've been having of Belos possessing Gus, after posting a couple drawings online (you can check them out on my art account, @lotusthekat!). This is mainly just a concept fic for now, I do have more plot points, but I'm still unsure this will become a full story soon. For now, I want to keep it one chapter until I have time and inspiration to continue it.

I hope you like it!

TRIGGER WARNINGS - hallucinations (illusions), dissociation, flashbacks, past death, implied death and blood, and possession.

P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

The human rain shouldn’t be scary.

The fact it can cause the power to go out, though, is scary. The thunder and the lightning are entirely unfamiliar to him.

Gus, not wanting to disturb Hunter – who sleeps through the storm without a problem, ironically enough –, decides to go upstairs and stay in the living room. Maybe the basement is actually safer since there are no windows down there; but the smaller space was going to drive Gus crazy.

The wind trying to enter the house is even more terrifying. Gus feels like that same little boy that went to his dad, crying and begging him to make his head stop. Just stop. Dad obviously couldn’t do anything like that, but at least his hugs were safe.

His father was his home.

And Gus isn’t even sure what happened to him.

In the dark, the boy weeps for his home, for everyone he knew.

Until… he hears someone coming from the basement, the steps already knowing where he went to.

“Gus?”

The illusionist doesn’t look up.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Hunter asks softly.

Without saying a word, Gus shakes his head.

When the thunder blares outside, he can’t contain his furious flinch.

That’s when Hunter approaches more.

And then…

Gus feels something warm around his shoulders.

A blanket.

His blanket, actually.

That has Gus look up and find two magenta eyes that know too much, that know entirely about crying alone in the night. Them, and the light spell illuminating them both.

“Do you want some tea?” Hunter suggests.

“Aren’t the flavors different here?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s probably not hard, right?”

Gus snickers. “We’ll probably burn down the kitchen.”

“No, I’ll make the tea for you.”

“Then you’ll set the whole house on fire.”

Hunter looks at him, betrayed, which makes Gus laugh a little less shyly.

“We’ll make it together, whether it sucks or not,” the latter concludes. “How about that?”

“Together…” Hunter gives in and smiles. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

--

The two sit on the couch together, sharing the blanket and drinking their own cups of tea. It doesn’t taste as good as how Luz’s mother makes it… but it doesn’t taste horrible, at least.

Gus and Hunter remain silent on the most part, if not for their palismen, who have joined the cocoon. Everyone else is asleep, as they have been exhausted since their arrival. Gus hasn’t slept well in the last nights, admittedly. Tonight, though, has to be the worst yet. He’s simply… overwhelmed and sad, and mournful.

Hunter can tell, even if Gus hasn’t told him anything.

The former leans on the latter affectionately, to show him that he’s here. Gus smiles, then takes one last sip of his tea. Sighing deeply, he lowers his head and stares at his empty cup.

Much to his surprise, Hunter’s hand is cupping Gus’ chin.

“Hold on, you have… some tea there,” the older boy observes.

Gus blushes at how gentle the touch is, so much that he won’t move.

“O-Oh. Thanks?” He lets out, sounding like his pre-puberty self.

Hunter snorts.

“You’re welcome, Pip.”

Gus goes cold .

“... What?”

When he looks back, he doesn’t find magenta.

He sees… brown.

Brown eyes that simultaneously look dead.

The same smile but there’s something wrong about it.

I know you’re still in there.

And he sees red.

No, not just Flapjack.

Please…

Red, red, red.

Don’t do this, Philip.

The storm is getting through, wetting him, making him feel lost and crushing him with the tears from the skies.

…

… snap.

Snapping fingers.

“... Gus! Gus ! Can you hear me?”

As soon as he blinks again, everything… is back to normal.

Hunter is there, with his magenta eyes, with the same scars, wearing cozy clothes. He’s frowning in concern, apparently sweating as well, maybe not knowing what just happened to Gus.

The illusionist feels his head heavier.

“Your eyes were blue,” Hunter points out. “Were you seeing an illusion?”

Gus can barely react.

He’s still seeing the brown and the red in Hunter, and he can’t get them out.

“Gus,” Hunter insists, “what did you see? Can you tell me? You look scared.”

It’s…

Too much.

Gus still hasn’t left the illusion.

(Has he ever?)

“... nothing.”

“What?”

“It was nothing,” Gus replies simply, trying to sound as numb as possible to disguise the shakiness in his voice.

“That wasn’t nothing,” Hunter reacts incredulously, yet not to the point of lashing out. He’s on the verge of panicking himself, and Gus feels terrible about it. “Gus, you can tell me anything, remember? I promise I won’t mess with you.”

These words are useless right now.

The black teen shakes his head repeatedly.

“No,” he mumbles.

“Gus–”

“I need to–” Gus tries to stand up from the couch, only to almost fall. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not-!” Before Hunter snaps and tries to help him, Gus raises his voice.

“ Just give me some space, okay!? ”

Something about his voice changes.

Gus covers his mouth in utter shame.

Especially at how terrified Hunter looks.

Please… don’t do this, Philip.

“I-I’m…” Gus tears up, adding quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Finally, he runs to the bathroom before things get worse.

Although he hears his name being called, Hunter doesn’t go after him, and maybe it’s for the best.

Gus runs away from the gentle, haunting light, to the dark and even smaller bathroom. His eyes are blue again, so they’re the only thing lighting up the place. He uses Willow’s breathing technique over and over again, and again, and again.

And it won’t work.

It won’t work because…

Gus’ blue eyes aren’t the only ones in the room.

When he gasps and steps back, doing a light spell, he touches and feels the mirror behind him. Which means…

This isn’t an illusion.

Despite the fact that the eyes disappear.

Panting, Gus can only sit on the floor and cry like a child.

I can’t even trust myself anymore.

[luxsombra]

oil & canvas

an upcoming chigikai fic

Blue Lock

Chigiri x Kaiser

Rated T

College AU

Preview below the cut. Subscribe on AO3 for a notification when it’s posted. Ko-Fi tips are always appreciated.

Content: college parties, alcohol use, implied sexual content, minor ReoNagi

Chigiri Hyouma hates his friends.

He’s not being dramatic. He honestly and truly hates them. They dragged him to this damn party that he didn’t want to be at and now they’re who fucking knows where doing who fucking knows what.

Actually, he can answer the second half of that statement. Each other. They’re most definitely doing each other.

So while he waits for his horny companions to return, he decides he should at least try to enjoy himself. He grabs a drink from the kitchen without questioning what’s in it. This is his 4th semester in college. He knows better than to ask stupid questions by now. He finds an empty piece of wall to lean against, tucked into the corner. The perfect place to people watch. He knows half the people here - it’s the frat house full of the jocks. Most of whom were Hyouma’s good friends since he used to be one of them. Too bad injury ended his relationship with sports, though honestly he doesn’t miss it so much anymore. At least, not when he’s watching Kunigami do a keg stand and Karasu get slapped across the face for the third time that night. Otoya’s standing nearby snickering about that and Gagamaru is practically lifting people out of the way to search for something. His hair is down so Hyouma guesses it’s his hair tie again. He’s pretty particular about it.

Hyouma wishes he had his drawing tablet.

For every person he does know, it seems like there’s three people he doesn’t. They all seem to blend together, the blurry out of focus people in the background of a photograph. Hyouma snorts into his drink as he realizes how pretentious that sounds. As if these people are irrelevant just because they’re not relevant to him.

Loud whooping and hollering sounds from the center of the room where a table has been set up for beer pong. The team facing Hyouma is an odd pair. One of them is the one hollering, his blonde hair spiked back with the tips colored pink. His partner seems simultaneously pleased and annoyed, a scowl twisted into his lips despite the way his bright turquoise eyes shine with mirth. If Hyouma had to guess, he’s pleased because they won but he’s annoyed by his partner. Either that or Hyouma’s too drunk to play the guess-the-scenario game.

He’s staring at the backs of their opponents, so there isn’t much to gauge there. Another blonde guy only the ends of his hair are blue and choppy. Hyouma can’t see his partner. Blue guy seems to have his head pressed to the table with one hand. Hyouma rolls his eyes, grateful once more that he’s no longer associated with jocks.

As if on cue to prove him wrong, Reo suddenly appears from who fucking knows where. Nagi is trailing along behind him looking ready for bed, which just proves Hyouma’s suspicions. Nagi is usually a big sleeper, to be fair, but he hardly ever looks tired. He only wears the exhaustion after a good orgasm. Hyouma knows from being the cause of it on several occasions. Which is also why he knows *Reo* knows Nagi only gets fucked in one of their dorm rooms. ‘Their’ being Nagi or Reo themselves. Hyouma had long since tapped out of that one.

“You having fun, Missy?” Reo says, reaching for Hyouma’s cup. Hyouma lets him take it, mostly because it’s empty and it’s funny to watch Reo’s face flood with disappointment when nothing comes out.

“No. Can we go now?” He asks as Nagi drops his head onto Hyouma’s shoulder. Somewhat on instinct, Hyouma lifts a hand to card his fingers though the soft white fluff, earning a quiet hum of approval from the humanoid cat.

“We just got here,” Reo protests, grabbing two abandoned drinks from the table next to them. “Here. Just drink more, you’ll be fine.”

[aparticularbandit]

Jane is visiting Eve and that causes some problems woo!

and by problems, we mean problems.

tw for homophobia because jane's having a very bad day and expresses it in a very poor way.

rated t! for teen!

but the series is rated m for mature for sexual content, so maybe don’t get sucked into it just because this chapter is rated t!

Agatha’s call comes just as Eve sits Jane down with a mug of hot lemon ginger tea.

Jane hasn’t said much, but Eve remembers that, remembers not wanting to say anything at all, remembers wanting to get as far from Ted as humanly possible (and being in a situation that – due to Brendan and her own mother’s death – forced her to be with him far more than she ever wanted).  She doesn’t force Jane to say anything at all, just makes the tea, sets it down in front of her with a comforting hand on her shoulder, and then—

Is that…is that your phone?

Eve flinches and pulls it out from her pocket.  Sorry, it’s…it’s Agatha, she says, meeting Jane’s eyes with an awkward expression.  She starts to shove the phone back in her pocket.  I can talk to her later.

No, no, you can answer it.  Jane waves a hand dismissively, resting her head in her other hand and staring morosely into her mug of tea.  She lets out a sigh.  Just remind me to….  She snorts.  Your ringtone is so bad.

It’s the default!

It’s enough, though, to see Jane smile, even for the briefest of moments.

Eve flips her phone open as she walks into the other room, one arm crossing just under her chest.  Agatha?

You called, Agatha says as soon as she hears Eve’s voice, the faintest hint of something that Eve refuses to believe is panic tinging her voice.  In the background, she can hear the quiet purr of Agatha’s car, which she knows means it’s just zooming from wherever Agatha has been (likely not the Scratching Post, which isn’t open quite this early) to wherever she’s going. You said we needed to talk?

Eve winces.  I…I did, she admits, pressing her lips together and glancing briefly over her shoulder.  But, um.  I can’t right now.

Agatha isn’t standing in front of her.  They’re on the phone.  But still, Eve can picture it, Agatha’s eyes widening, brows creeping up nearly to her hairline, as she says, You asked me to come over, hon.  Did something change?

Jane’s here.  Eve bites her lower lip, lowers her voice, and steps further away from the table, where Jane still sits, staring into her mug of tea, still not drinking any of it.

So…you want me to come by…later?

Eve’s eyes shift, not that Agatha can see it.  Jane’s going to be here for, ah, a while.

There’s silence on the other end, filled only by the gentle purr of Agatha’s car. Then, finally, How long a while, hon?

She’s….  Eve takes a deep breath and lets it out.  It’s a complicated situation, but Jane’s going to be living here.  For, um. She glances back to Jane again and sighs, a corner of her lips curling up ever so slightly, fond as can be.  For as long as she needs.

Silence again, followed by another deep sigh – this time, not one of hers.  I think you’re right, dear, Agatha says, finally.  We really do need to talk.  Another pause.  I’ll be by later, babe.

Agatha—

But the phone call ends before Eve can say anything else.  She sighs again, staring at her phone, and then turns back to Jane.  Her lips force themselves into a gentle, comforting expression, and she silences her phone before shoving it back into her pocket.  So, she says, walking back over and curling up into the wooden chair across from Jane, is your tea too hot?

No, no, Jane says again, not realizing she’s repeating herself. She heaves a bigger sigh even than Agatha’s and then holds out her hand.  C’mon, give me your phone.  I’ll help you set up something better than that default trash.  She glances up just enough to offer Eve a smile behind watery eyes, and Eve….

Eve can’t tell her no.

~

It takes a few minutes of going through the other ringtones loaded on the phone before Eve finds one that she kind of sort of likes – she likes the default, or maybe it’s just that she’s so used to it at this point that she’s grown attached to it, even if she didn’t initially like it – and then Jane brings up how her daughter taught her to make her own ringtones and load them, at which point Eve realizes she could have a Smiths ringtone, and that just blows the default and all other ringtones out of the water.  She rushes to her bedroom, stops only to open her laptop and close out her browser (she’s had enough embarrassment over Agatha finding her porn; she’s not sure she wants Jane to see it, too), and then returns to the kitchen table with excitement. I’ve got a few songs on here; I haven’t gotten a lot of them digitally, but, um.

Jane holds Eve’s phone in one hand and asks off-hand, So how did you���with Agatha, how did that….  She hesitates, then tries again.  How did that happen?  Then she glances up, meets Eve’s eyes, and then lets her gaze shift past her.  To anyone else, it would look like Jane is still staring straight at her, but Eve knows better.  Eve sees.

And yet.

Um.

Eve tucks strands of her wavy dark hair back behind one ear as she scoots into the chair just next to Jane, laptop forgotten as she holds it against her chest the way an indoor kid holds a book when they’re forced outside for recess.  It just….  She thinks about it, doesn’t know what to say.  It just kind of happened.  Her voice grows soft, and her lips curve in a soft, soft smile.  I don’t…I don’t know how it happened.  It just....

As she speaks, Eve remembers their first not-date, remembers the bar after Evanora’s funeral and Agatha wetting her finger so that she could draw the same whine from the rim of her glass that Agatha did, remembers the embarrassment of mistakenly kissing Agatha and running away, remembers the heat of Agatha chasing her down and pressing her against an alleyway wall as she kissed her, remembers Agatha leaving her confused, remembers Don’t worry, pet. / I like to finish what I start. and being so turned on again just by the texts that—

Eve flushes a bright red, eyes averted, and says, unable to keep the fondness out of her voice, It just did.

She didn’t come on to you, did she? Jane asks, breaking through the slight spell of memory and causing Eve to flinch.  She flips Eve’s phone open and then closed again, avoiding Eve’s eyes.  I mean, you’re not like that, so she shouldn’t have been flirting with you.  That’s gross.

For a moment, Eve sits there, trying to parse through Jane’s words.  Her brow furrows.  What?

I mean, queer girls shouldn’t be flirting with straight girls.  Jane’s eyes narrow.  It’s weird.  She continues to avoid Eve’s gaze, just staring at the phone still in her hands like that means something, like it means something.

Eve hears the words.  She knows she hears them. But they’re not making any sense.  Jane isn’t making any sense. She blinks twice, as if that will clear up the issue, but it doesn’t.  I’m not like what?

Like….  Jane gives a little shake of her head.  Like her.  She finally looks up and stares at Eve with the sort of expression that says she doesn’t understand how Eve doesn’t understand what she’s saying.

And maybe, if they’d had this conversation a few months ago, Eve would have. Maybe she would have even agreed with her. A few months ago, she wouldn’t have thought she was anything like Agatha, or she would have, just that barest of inklings jiggling the back of her mind, that reminder of just how gorgeous Cian and Agatha were whenever she saw them at Natural Grocers, but she never would have said that.  She wouldn’t have thought of herself as…as like them.  As the same.

But—

Jane.  I am like her.  I’m….  Eve’s brow furrows even deeper.  I’m dating her.  She doesn’t know how else to say it, doesn’t know how to explain it, doesn’t know how to put it into words that Jane will understand because she doesn’t get how Jane doesn’t understand.  Or maybe she does get it, because if their roles were reversed, she’d probably be acting the same way as Jane is, only without the thinly veiled disgust towards Agatha.  (She hopes.) Agatha’s my girlfriend.  I’m exactly like—

Yeah, but this is just a phase, isn’t it? Jane asks, tapping one manicured nail against Eve’s phone, focusing on it again and not on Eve.  You’re not actually going to—

Jane, I love her—

You loved Ted, too, and look how that turned out.

Then she gets it.

Eve’s breath catches in the back of her throat.  Tears prick the corner of her eyes.  She’s always cried so easy, but that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing now.  When she gets hurt, she’s allowed to cry.  Her eyes search the woman in front of her – her best friend, the best friend she’s ever had, other than (she isn’t thinking about him), the one who was there with her when everything with Ted and her mom happened, who has made sure every year to help distract her from the depression that sinks in on the anniversary of her discovery (other than this year, which she’s starting to think has more to do with Jane’s current situation than anything else)—

This isn’t about her.

It isn’t about her at all.

Eve reaches a hand over and places it on Jane’s shoulder.  You love Dave, too, she says, giving her a gentle squeeze, her voice just as gentle.

Jane breaks.

~

Eve spends another couple of hours with Jane.  They don’t say much mostly because they don’t need to say much.  She just sits with her best friend while she cries, offering her more tea when she finishes her first mug, this time changing out the lemon ginger for honey vanilla chamomile to help soothe her.

After Jane finishes crying, eyes rimmed with red; after she returns from blowing her nose, from splashing her face with cold water; after she fiddles around with Eve’s phone and computer (raises one eyebrow at the long list of porn sites in Eve’s browser history, but doesn’t say anything about it (yet)) until she’s changed Eve’s ringtone to one that Eve likes much better than the default, she swallows once, hands the phone back, and says, Could you….  She hiccups, tries again.  I didn’t take anything with me, and I don’t want to go back there.

Just let me know what you need, Eve murmurs, meeting Jane’s still red eyes with a gentle smile, and I’ll go get it for you.

Right before she leaves, Jane says, almost so soft that Eve can’t hear her, I’m sorry.  She doesn’t even look up.  For what I said.  Agatha…she seems really nice.

She is.  That fond smile comes back, tracing Eve’s lips.  She really is.

~

Of course, that smile freezes and then fades when Eve walks outside and finds Agatha sitting on her front steps, hands clasped on her knees, staring up at the star-covered sky.  Then she takes a deep breath in and steps forward, sits down next to Agatha, and then rests her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.  Funny seeing you here.

Told you I’d be by later, babe. Never said I’d come inside.

Eve turns just enough to kiss Agatha’s cheek.  Do we have to talk right now?

No.  Agatha’s head lowers, and she glances over to Eve.  Is your friend doing okay, dear?  Her eyes search Eve’s, pools of sunlight in the crowding darkness.

Eve considers, wets her lips, and then lets her gaze drop.  She can’t say it.  So instead, she just shakes her head, a very clear, nonverbal no.

As she shakes her head, Agatha’s fingers wind through the hair at the nape of her neck then stroke her skin very gently.  Do you need me to go?

Eve hesitates and then shakes her head again.  Stay with me, she murmurs, voice soft, as she curls closer to her.  Please.

As long as you want me, dear.  Agatha kisses her forehead.  As long as you need me.

[im-no-jedi]

MLWTBB: Master and Commander

Part 11 of the “My Life With The Bad Batch” series, a (mostly) canon compliant self-insert story set in “The Bad Batch”  

rated: T warnings: descriptions of food and eating, implied self-harm, gun violence  relationships: Hunter/self-insert, Omega & self-insert (adopted siblings), The Bad Batch & self-insert chapter word count: 3000+ words

✨MLWTBB masterlist✨

summary: when Hannah’s already hectic life becomes almost too much to bear, Master Gildish gifts her a new companion to help ease the burdens, as well as give Hannah a new friend to live with. however, the Bad Batch are not so thrilled with Hannah’s new robotic ally, which causes major tension in Hannah’s relationship with Echo and Hunter.

notes: we’ve finally made it to this story!! this was an idea I came up with fairly early on for this series (which I’ve already hinted at in a previous story 😉). I absolutely love droids - hence the existence of Master Gildish and Buddy - and ironically, one of my favorite types are the Battle Droids. they’re so silly and adorable, so naturally, I had to give myself one for this AU! 😊 but before we get to that, let’s have some good ol’ angst, shall we?✨

A/N: this story has not been proofread by anyone other than myself. so apologies for any uncaught errors 😬

Chapter 1: Too Much Work, Not Enough Play

______________________________________________________________

Things had changed a lot for Hannah over the past several weeks. Her life in general had been rapidly changing since moving to Ord Mantell, and she never knew what to expect when waking up every day. It kept her on her toes, which was very different from her old life on Astreon.

Hannah had never been a very active person, even as a child. She and her original family often jokingly called her “lazy”, even after realizing most of her behaviors stemmed from neurodiversity. But it never stopped her, despite how hindering it could be. If anything, the bartending job and the group of people she’d adopted as her new family motivated her to do more, be better, and act accordingly.

That didn’t mean it was easy, of course. And there were definitely days that were harder than others.

“Hey, can I get a refill over here?” A Pantoran man sitting at the bar counter called out. He waved his empty cup in the air for emphasis.

“Yup, be with ya in a second!” Hannah hurriedly replied. The towel in her hands was just a blur from how quickly she was wiping down the counter.

“Oh, scrag!” A human woman in the corner of the room suddenly exclaimed. Another woman she was talking to groaned loudly and called out to Hannah, “We got a spill over here!”

Hannah sighed loudly and called back, “Just leave it, I’ll deal with it in a minute!”

A male Nikto started loudly shouting and hitting the game machine he was at, spooking Ketch, who was at the machine beside him.

“Hey!” Hannah aggressively called out to the Nikto. “No acts of aggression against the machines!” She quickly refilled the Pantoran man’s drink and began walking over to the two women with a larger towel.

The Nikto growled and hit the machine one more time before stomping away, intending to leave.

“You break it, you buy it!” Hannah continued to say as she blotted up the spilled drink on the floor.

“Hey, could you be a dear and refill my drink once you’re done there?” The woman who’d spilled her drink asked.

“Of course,” Hannah replied, sighing to herself.

Once she’d finished cleaning the mess on the floor, Hannah stood up and stretched her back with an audible groan. All the work she’d been doing was clearly starting to catch up to her, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She was the only one working in the parlor, after all. If she wasn’t on the clock, she would’ve outwardly lamented about it.

It didn’t take long for Hannah to refill the woman’s drink and take it to her; however, the woman’s friend asked for a refill as soon as Hannah had handed the drink over. Hannah had to fight off an eye twitch as she told the woman she’d be happy to do that for her, speaking in her forced, fake happy tone.

In the midst of refilling yet another drink, Hannah noticed another person approach the counter in her peripheral sight and inwardly groaned. “Be with ya in a sec,” she said, keeping her attention on what she was doing.

“Take your time, sweetheart,” the person replied. “I’m not in any rush.”

The calm, husky voice of the person was immediately recognizable, and Hannah felt a wave of solace wash over her. Another sigh escaped her lips, this one out of relief, as she turned to see the composed face of her partner staring back at her with a half-smile.

“Hunter, you have no idea how happy that makes me,” Hannah told him, shaking her head incredulously.

To Hannah’s continued relief, the woman who’d asked for a refill came over and got her drink once it was finished, leaving Hannah at the counter for what was most likely just a brief moment of respite.

“Busy day today?” Hunter asked, leaning against the counter on one arm.

“Oh yeah,” Hannah replied with a forced chuckle. “It’s normally busy on the weekend, but...” She let out an exasperated sigh and leaned against the counter on her elbows. “I dunno, things have been weird around here ever since that fiasco with Roland. D’you know I still get people coming in here asking about him?”

Hunter’s face scrunched up in confusion and disgust. “That was weeks ago. You’d think people would’ve gotten the message by now.”

“Right??” Hannah scoffed. “It’s ridiculous.” Another sigh as she shook her head. “Anyway, you want the usual?”

“Nah, I’m not here for that.” 

Hunter’s plain reply made Hannah squint her eyes at him.

“Oh... then, why are you here? Did Cid call you?”

“No,” Hunter plainly replied again.

“Soooo, why are you even here?”

Hunter looked at her for a moment, staring into her eyes in what was best described as disbelief. “I just came to see you, love. Nuthin’ else.”

Hannah returned the stare of momentary silence, then laughed. She’d gotten so caught up in work that the mere thought of someone just coming to see her didn’t even cross her mind. Then again, that was a normal thought for her, so it wasn’t that unusual. 

“Ya know, if things were that hard for you,” Hunter continued. “You could’ve called one of us here sooner.”

Hannah opened her mouth to respond, but angry shouting from a nearby game table stopped her.

“He’s cheating!” Bolo shouted as he pointed a finger at the man sitting across from him.

“You can’t prove that!” The man retorted.

“Tell him he’s cheating!” Bolo shouted again, this time addressing Hannah.

Sighing through her nose, Hannah gave Hunter an annoyed look before coming up closer to the game table. “Bolo, I told you before, I can’t be monitoring your games for you. You want a referee, ask Ketch.”

Ketch piped up, still playing on one of the game machines. “No thanks! Not unless he pays me to do it!”

“Why would I pay you to do it?” Bolo replied, throwing his hands in the air. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Oh, as ridiculous as you claiming your opponents are cheating every time you start to lose?” Ketch briefly turned to Bolo to give him an unamused look.

“What?? Now you’re just making stuff up!”

“Alright, enough!” Hannah exclaimed, throwing her hands out to stop anything else from happening. “Bolo, if you have a problem with this guy, take it up with Cid. It’s not my problem!” With a loud huff, she returned to her spot behind the counter, leaving Bolo to continue to air his grievances.

After holding her head in her hands for a moment, Hannah looked back at Hunter with a forced smile. “I don’t have the luxury of asking for help at this point. And I don’t expect you guys to come to my rescue all the time either.”

Hunter scoffed slightly and shook his head. “You never have...”

“And I shouldn’t have to. You guys have enough of your own problems to deal with. Plus, I survived on my own for several years, I can handle more than you think.” A dirty cup nearby caught Hannah’s attention, and she swiped it off the counter and began cleaning it with another sigh.

“So what’s that then?” Hunter nudged toward Hannah with his chin.

“What, the cup?”

Hunter shook his head, then held out his left hand, clearly looking at Hannah’s left hand at the same time. It took a moment for Hannah to understand, but after looking at her own hand, she grew more self-conscious and nearly dropped the cup. The bandage around her thumb was all too obvious, and out of instinct, she tried to hide it.

“It’s nothing,” Hannah replied, keeping her focus on the cup instead of Hunter. “Just an accident, don’t worry about it.”

“A true accident, or a self-inflicted one?”

Again, Hannah sighed through her nose, turning her face towards the ceiling. The hand holding the cup fell to her side, and she pursed her lips in frustration.

“You don’t have to hide that sorta thing from me,” Hunter continued, softening his tone so only she could hear him. “I know ya only do it when you’re stressed.”

Hannah set the cup back on the counter and leaned in closer to Hunter, speaking just loud enough for his ears only. “That doesn’t matter. It’s still embarrassing. And...” Her gaze went down to her hand again, and she began fiddling with the corner of the bandage, like it was a flap of skin. “I don’t try to make myself bleed, it just happens.”

Hunter’s hand gently rested on top of hers and held it, causing a small smile to appear on Hannah’s face. “I know,” he tenderly said to her. His other hand took her by the chin to tilt her gaze back up to his. The warm, understanding look he gave her nearly brought her to tears. “I know,” he repeated, somehow more tender than before.

There was nothing Hannah wanted more than to collapse into Hunter’s arms after that. She didn’t even care if anybody saw it, she just wanted him to hold her and tell her everything was going to be ok. 

But she couldn’t. There was still too much to be done, for both of them.

Sure enough, the moment was interrupted by the recognizable voice of Cid coming into the room. “Ahh, good, you’re already here.” She appeared next to Hunter with arms crossed, not even seeming to acknowledge Hannah. “Come in the back with me, I got a mission brief for ya.”

Of course she did. Because of course something had to come along and tear Hannah’s family away from her when she needed them the most. Hannah didn’t even try to hide the disappointment on her face as she urged Hunter to go with Cid, saying she had other stuff to do anyway. Hunter gave her a brief apologetic look before following Cid back to her office, leaving Hannah with her duties once again.

Hunter wasn’t gone for long, and when he returned, Hannah was pouring drinks out for two new customers who’d come in while he was gone. “So?” she asked once Hunter came back to the counter. “Tell me the bad news. Or good news, however you wanna phrase it.”

“Well, I think the only bad thing is the fact that we have to leave at all,” Hunter replied. “But the good news is, not only is it a quick supply run, but it’ll be one less crate in your apartment too.”

“Oh, well, I guess that’s not so bad.”

“We should only be gone for a day at most too.”

“Even better!” Hannah managed a small chuckle and a smile before letting out a quick exhale. “Well uhh, I guess good luck with that and everything. I’ll... be here. Like always.” Her smile forcibly grew, and she began wiping down a portion of the counter passive aggressively.

“Yeah, about that...” Hunter sat down on the stool in front of her as he spoke. “I was thinkin’ since this is such an easy mission that... maybe you’d like to come with us.”

Hannah’s eyes widened for a second before she let out a forced chuckle. “That’s sweet.”

“I’m serious.” Hunter leaned in closer, trying to get in her line of sight. “You’ve always said how you wanna come with us on our missions. And you’d only be gone a day; I’m sure Cid wouldn’t mind.”

It was impossible for Hannah not to smile at hearing all that. Hunter had always been the one to be more hesitant about her going on missions with them, and it touched her to hear him outright asking her to come this time. 

But again, she knew she couldn’t, despite how badly she wanted to. Her smile turned solemn, and her head shook disappointedly. “It’s not that simple, Hunter. I wish it was...”

“Why isn’t it?” Hunter continued to lean closer, practically forcing her to look at him. “What’s stopping you? Besides yourself?”

A brief scowl appeared on Hannah’s face. Too many times, she’d been told her insecurities were holding her back, both by herself and others. And although she still struggled with that problem, she knew that wasn’t the case this time. It was almost upsetting to hear Hunter not even realize that.

“Unlike the rest of you, I doubt Cid would pay me for going along. And as much as you guys need the money, I need it too. And there’s a lot of repercussions we’re still dealing with from Roland. It’s...” Like she’d been doing most of the day, a sigh left Hannah’s lips. “It’s not like I don’t want to go. I’m just being realistic.”

Hunter had leaned back by this point and was now staring Hannah down with his signature unamused scowl and arms crossed. “And here I thought you’d be willing to have some fun...”

Fun? Did Hunter of all people just say “fun”? Now it was just getting ridiculous.

Hannah let out a scoff and gave Hunter her own scowl. “Don’t give me that! You know I’m right!” She let out an angry huff and turned away to start aggressively cleaning some cups.

“That’s not the point,” Hunter said after a moment of silence. “I’m tryin’ to get you to not work yourself into the ground, Hannah. There’s a difference.”

Hannah scoffed again. “Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, don’t gimme that...”

Another scoff, this time more amused. “Wow! Irony!”

Everything went silent between them after that. Hannah continued to clean her cups out of aggravation, and when she finally turned to look at Hunter again, he was looking away like an upset child, arms still crossed with an even harsher scowl on his face.

“I don’t expect you to understand, Hunter,” Hannah eventually said. “We have a lot in common, but not everything.” Her body leaned forward on the counter, drawing his attention. “I’m not like you when it comes to work. It doesn’t come naturally for me. I have to force myself to do it. I spent years of my life doing nothing, literally nothing...”

“I know,” Hunter interrupted. “I know all of that.” He leaned in close enough that only inches separated their faces. “But do you hear me saying you don’t have to work so hard? Especially on your own?”

“I do,” Hannah replied, forcing another smile. “But I also know that if I don’t give it my all, I won’t do it at all. It takes twice as much, if not more effort for me to do things than the normal person. That’s just how my brain works.” 

Briefly, Hannah looked around to see if anyone was watching them. After seeing they were being ignored, she pressed her forehead against Hunter’s as she stared into his eyes with unusual harshness. “And you know how hard it is to do things when your brain is working against you.”

Hunter took a moment to just stare back at her before replying, his tone laced with solemness. “I do. And I wish you’d let me lighten that burden for you more often.” 

The shared touch between them was broken as Hunter stood up from his seat and turned away again, letting out a sigh of his own. “If ya won’t let me do it, then you should at least get someone else to help you. Someone without their own burdens.”

A small scoff from Hannah. “Yeah, that’d be nice. In an ideal galaxy, maybe. And you know Cid refuses to hire anybody else for this job.” She turned away as well, going back to cleaning cups, but with more solemness this time. “You should get going. We both have work to do. Tell the others bye for me...” A shaky sigh escaped her throat. “I don’t have the time...”

There was no response. All Hannah heard was the music of the jukebox and Bolo continuing to gripe at his opponent. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and pursed her lips to keep from getting too emotional.

The sound of credits clinking on the counter caught her attention, and she turned to see Hunter sitting in the stool again. “Changed my mind,” he said. “I’ll have that drink after all.”

Briefly, a small smile crossed Hannah’s face before she rolled her eyes and got to work preparing Hunter’s usual drink for him. When it was done, she held it out for him as opposed to setting it down, keeping her gaze away from him. His hand brushed against hers as he took the cup from her, causing a tingle to run down her spine. Then before she could move, Hunter grabbed her hand with his free one, shocking her enough to get her to look at him again. His grip was just tight enough that she would’ve had to forcibly leave it, and his eyes stared her down intensely. Hannah’s heart was beating so fast, she could barely breathe.

Unlike Hannah, Hunter didn’t seem to care if they were being watched. His gaze never left as he took a sip of his drink, still gripping Hannah’s hand. One sip was all he took before setting the cup down. Then he stood up slowly and took Hannah by the chin again to pull her face closer to his. The sensation of Hunter’s breath on her face made Hannah’s eyes flutter, and her own breath stuttered as Hunter placed a kiss on the corner of her lips.

“Keep the change,” Hunter said, barely above a whisper. Then he turned to leave, giving Hannah’s hand one last squeeze before letting go.

Before he got to the door, Hannah called out Hunter’s name, getting him to stop. He turned to see her giving him an almost desperate look. Then her lips turned up into a smile as her hands pressed together to form the shape of a heart against her chest. Hunter returned the smile, his real heart overflowing as he formed his own heart shape back at her.

That was the last thing Hannah saw before he was gone.

Left in the parlor again, Hannah could feel her duties beckoning her. Regret fluttered at the edge of her mind, but she didn’t give it any attention. She still had work to do. And by golly, she was gonna do it. No matter how much she hated it...

[next chapter]

[autobot2001]

Refusal to Eat

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: T Warning: Poor mental health and eating habits, suicidal thoughts. Paring: None Description: The lenth of time since Jamie last ate causes her to feel dizzy.

@whumpril day 6; dizziness

With both Crosshairs and Drift having to work today, Lightning is with Jamie. Jamie knows why this is done, and hates it, but she knows telling her friends this won’t change anything. This only reminds her of her mental health and adds to her feeling worthless and wanting to be dead. This is why the Autobots decided not to leave her alone except for the bathroom. Jamie questions if this is why she can’t help anyone working at the base.

Lightning is hoping to get Jamie to eat. The Autobots know depression makes someone not want to eat. They don’t consider it a good thing depression also happens to Cybertronians, allowing them to know what they’re dealing with. The concern is the consequences of not eating since last night. Lightning knows she can’t force Jamie to eat.

Noon marks sixteen hours since Jamie ate. All she’s been drinking is water. Crosshairs and Drift walk into the room and realize there’s a problem. They can tell Jamie’s long duration of not eating is causing issues. “Jamie?” Drift says while sitting her up. Jamie feels dizzy. She leans on Drift, which he finds concerning. “I don’t think food is going to help,” Crosshairs comments, “we better take her to the medbay.” The three know this is urgent.

[finishwhatyoustarted-event]

Finished It Friday Masterpost - SFW Fanfictions

This special post celebrates all of the Safe For Work (rated G and T) works posted during this spring Finish What You Started event! This will include ones only included on previous twitter threads, as well as ones in tumblr posts and ones from the AO3 collection.

If you do not see your work, please let me know! It may have slipped through the cracks.

--

Wish: Extras by sasuhina_gal

Miraculous Ladybug - Rated T - Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine - Lila and Adrien's Lives are Switched, Fluff and Angst, Ladybug Luka Couffaine - "Even though the wish has changed Adrien's life forever, sometimes, the past has a way of poking at you, even if you don't remember what it was."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57902863/chapters/149604478

 beloved, betrayer by ubepandeSol 

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated G - Nico di Angelo & Percy Jackson - Unrequited Crush -"|Nico knows now that he shouldn’t have trusted his father, but his sister Bianca once told him that there are a number of things he can only know for sure when he tests the waters. There are also a number of reasons why he shouldn’t have followed this advice, a number that does not matter right now. They’re Bianca’s words. Sometimes, Nico indulges this gut churning feeling that leads him to listen to the dead.| Chapter 8 of The Last Olympian, from Nico di Angelo's point of view."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58783639

Sick with Guilt by Akinasky 

Teen Wolf - Rated T - Derek Hale/Stiles StilinskiSheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski - Underage Drinking, Anxiety, Derek Hale is a Good Boyfriend - "Stiles gets drunk, has anxiety about his dad finding out about the supernatural and goes to Derek about it." 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58674040/chapters/149505505

 Too Much Pie by Akinasky 

Content warnings: Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Vomiting - The Last of Us (TV) - Rated T - Ellie & Joel, Joel & Tommy - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ellie Needs a Hug, Ellie and Joel Bonding - "Ellie's never had pie before, something happens the first time she does. She can't seem to control herself." 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58677097

 Joel's Hoodies are Safety by Akinasky 

Content warning: Panic Attacks - The Last of Us (TV) - Rated T - Ellie & Joel - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sharing Clothes, Ellie and Joel Bonding, Vaccine was Created - "Ellie doesn't know how to feel about clothes and having preferences but she knows that she feels the safest in Joel's hoodies. Sub plot: Maria's distrust of Joel is causing harm for Ellie and the Miller family has it out." 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58834027

If You Could Leave a Light On Please by Edai

Naruto - Rated T - Inuzuka Kiba/Kankurou, Gaara & Kankurou & Temari - Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Illness, Psychosis, Disability, Polyamory, Trans Character - "|“You’re still bleeding.”    “Have you considered maybe that’s why I want to be left alone?” “Have you considered maybe that’s why I don’t want to leave you alone?”| In which Kankurou wins a hospital stay and a boyfriend."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34313401/chapters/85376500

surrender my heart by ubepandeSol

Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo - Rated T - Hanne Brum | Ilya Grimjer/Nina Zenik - Pre-Book 2: Rule of Wolves - "|The dream started the same way, with a bullet hole ripping Matthias’ chest open. Then it continued differently: some nights the boat would sink them all to the bottom of the ocean; some nights Matthias’ face disappeared; some nights the smoking gun was in her own hand; some nights Matthias was replaced with Inej, and then Kaz, Jesper, and Wylan. Last night, it was Hanne.| Nina and Hanne execute a high-stakes rescue mission to free drugged women from their slavers.    All this while Nina, still grieving Matthias' death, is on the cusp of falling in love with Hanne."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58861555

The Bitter Taste Of Victory by TheStarGayzing EtherianCollection (TheStarGayzing Etherian)

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power - Rated T - Adora/Catra, Bow/Glimmer - During Canon, Missing Scene, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst - "After capturing Glimmer and Bow at Princess Prom, Catra ponders her victory, her feelings for Adora... and if staying with the Horde really is worth it."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59143801

5 Times Joel was an Overprotective Caretaker and 1 Time Ellie Tried to Be by Akinasky

The Last of Us (TV) - Rated T - Ellie & Joel, Maria/Tommy - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Vomiting, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - "Times when Joel was an overprotective caretaker in the hospital.  Turned it into a 5+1  Prompt 9: Overdramatic patient/caretaker"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58978831?view_adult=true

Taking up Space by Akinasky

The Last of Us (TV) - Rated T - Ellie & Joel - Canon Compliant, Episode 8 Follow Up, Protective Joel, Ellie Needs a Hug - "Getting Ellie away from Silver Lake was the easy part, Joel seeing her in a catatonic state was much harder.  Directly follows Episode 8 and can be read as a prequel to Only Awake, Not Really Living.   Prompt 17: Brain Fog/Spaced Out"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59071114

She's Sick, Not Terminal by Akinasky

Teen Wolf  - Rated T - Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski & Original Children of Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski - Hypochondriac Tendencies, Derek Hale Doesn't Understand Human Sickness, Derek Hale Needs a Hug, Anxiety, Panic Attacks - "Claudia is sick as an infant and poor Derek is freaking out! Stiles and Derek will work it out like they always do in this series.   Negasonic Series Addition.   Prompt 19: Hypochondriac Tendencies"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59072170

New Reality by Akinasky

The Last of Us (TV) - Rated T - Ellie & Joel - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anderson Died before they Arrived, Ellie & Joel Bonding, Depression - "Ellie wakes up in a hospital bed in Salt Lake City with a very different reality than the one she expected before they were hit with that flashbang.   Sicktember 24: Prompt Alt Hospital Bed"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59311240/chapters/151266412

She Takes on the Pain by Akinasky

The Last of Us (TV) - Rated T - Ellie & Joel - Headaches & Migraines, Vomiting, Ellie trying to deal alone, Good Parent Joel - "Ellie dealing with a migraine and just wanting Joel to help her while trying to be independent at the same time."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59341183

so lucky to be loving by ubepandeSol

Haikyuu!! - Rated T - Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Kita Shinsuke/Miya Osamu - Post-Haikyuu!! Time Skip, Casual horoscope talk based on pop astrology - "|He remembered subscribing to this newsletter during one drunken party last year when Atsumu couldn’t stop grumbling about retrogrades. Now, Osamu read through the astrological forecast for his signs again, with equal amount of exasperation and incredulity. Little did he know that this would come up again later in another conversation with Atsumu, which wouldn’t even involve any alcohol.| Osamu cheers up a heartbroken Atsumu by baking him a cake, the day before their shared birthday. Atsumu thanks him by imparting very wise astrology-related information. Some time later, Osamu (secretly takes this astrology-related information seriously and) finally works up the courage to ask Kita out on a date properly."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59456566

Even In a Different Life You Still Would’ve Been Mine by DogsAreTheBest312

Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (TV Movie 1996), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio), Rose Tyler: The Dimension Cannon (Big Finish Audio) - Rated T - The Doctor/Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler, Eighth Doctor/Rose Tyler - Anthology, Alternate Universe — Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe — Human, Alternate Universe — Modern Setting, Dimension Travel, dimension hopping Rose Tyler, Kid Fic, too many AUs to tag, There’s 31 of Them, Some Plot - "Rose’s search for The Doctor is far from easy. It takes her through dozens of parallel worlds, each one different from the last. In many, she encounters parallel versions of her parents or other people she loves. And in some, she comes across parallel versions of herself and her Doctor.  'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine We would've been timeless"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57670348/chapters/146758819

Subterfuge by ubepandeSol

A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Rated G - Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Nehemia Ytger - Fix-It, nehemia lives - "|All Nehemia knows is that she lives. She lives to tell the tale, she lives to hold her beloved’s hands, she lives to breathe the air prophesied to leave her body permanently. At the core of this tale—a nightmare, tossed sideways and turned upside down. Years and years later, this is all she’ll remember. This is the story she’ll tell.|   Nehemia lives to tell the tale—of spending time with, and working with Aelin. The two of them break a curse."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59503534

Stars and Roses by NoseBridgePinch

South Park - Rated G - Stan Marsh, Sharon Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Shelley Marsh - family fight, Childhood Trauma, Mother and Son Relationship, Sibling Rivalry, painful hug - "Stan gets into a huge fight with his mom when she takes Shelley’s side. He ends up sending himself to his room. Kyle joins him to fangirl about Persona 5.    Whumptober 2024"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59932120

climb with me by OverthinkingThis

陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF, Chinese Actor RPF - Rated G - Wang Yi Bo/Xian Zhan | Sean - Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Rock Climbing, Love Confessions - “Relax, Zhan-ge,” Yibo says, patting Xiao Zhan's well-muscled back comfortingly. “It'll be just like we practiced in the gym.” “But it’s nothing like we practiced in the gym! There are no candy-colored plastic holds to tell me where to put my hands and feet.” Yibo laughs, and the croaking sound of it melds into the pulsing background song of cicadas, the rustling of the trees all around them. Yibo loves his job at the climbing gym, but he feels so alive when he’s out in nature like this, drinking in the wildness of it all, reveling in the way it tests his limits. There isn’t anything quite like it, and he’s excited to finally be able to share this experience with the man he loves.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58625368

aristotle and dante and their symphony of love by pouler

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz  - Rated T - Aristotle Mendoza/Dante Quintana - Prom, Missing Scene, Canon Divergence - It's the season for senior proms, and Aristotle and Dante have no interest in going if they can't be each other's dates. Fortunately, their friends help them find a way to make sure everything ends up perfectly.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58802329

Tell Me About Catra by TheStarGayzingEtherianCollection (TheStarGayzingEtherian)

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power - Adora/Catra, Adora & Scorpia, Netossa/Spinnerella, Perfuma/Scorpia - Rated T - During Canon, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, One-Sided Catra/Scorpia - "Despite Etheria being in the middle of Horde Prime's invasion and the Rebellion pushed to the brink, Adora can't stop thinking about Catra. And there's only one other person who knows Catra as well as she did. (Catradora, Canon, Fluff/Angst)"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60090280

First Kisses by TheStarGayzingEtherianCollection (TheStarGayzingEtherian)

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power - Adora/Catra, Tarangela/Succubug - Rated T - Pre-Canon, Catra is in Love with Adora, Abusive Shadow Weaver, Kissing, Adora and Catra are about six or seven here, Angst, Hurt/Comfort - "On yet another day of life in the Fright Zone, little Adora and Catra stumble onto something that opens up their world… and their feelings for each other. (Catradora, Canon, Hurt/Comfort/Fluff)"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60090733

That's My Seat! by TheStarGayzingEtherianCollection (TheStarGayzingEtherian)

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power - Adora/Catra - Rated G - Fluff, Post-Canon, Silly, Dorks in Love, Outer Space, Minor Bow/Glimmer - "One morning aboard Darla, Adora finds that her girlfriend has comitted a most unspeakable crime... she's stolen her seat! (Catradora, Canon, Fluff)"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60103723

Just Like Magic by edupunkn00b

Sanders Sides - Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders - Rated G - Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, blooming platonic loceit, Past Abuse Referenced, Minor Character Death - "There are no mages in the South. There are no mages in the South. There are no mages in the South. There are mages in the South."

Tumblr promo - https://archiveofourown.org/works/33598879/chapters/83489710

The first wave of love… by sasuhina_gal

僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia - Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto - Rated T - Mermaid Melody AU, mermaid shouto, Surfer Midoriya Izuku, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Video Diary entries - "Izuku figured something about himself involving Shouto. Now he just needs to figure out something else about him."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33846982/chapters/84150544

find me in the world of yesterday by tellmeyoufool

전지적 독자 시점 - 싱숑 | Omniscient Reader - Sing-Shong - Kim Dokja & Shin Yoosung - Rated G - Post-Canon, Omniscient Reader Epilogue Spoilers, Angst, Hospitals, Temporary Selective Memory Loss, Platonic Relationships, Hopeful Ending - "|When Shin Yoosung opens the door of the hospital room, there are no more [Story, “Savior of a Star” has started its storytelling.] messages to see. There is no more warmth stirring in her chest when she’s felt her Story resonating and reaching out to her Constellation. In a world without the Star Stream, the absence is loud.|  Or: Kim Dokja is back, but some parts of him are still lost across time and space."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60193591

the way it was before by tellmeyoufool

Content Warning: Major Character Death - Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle - Kamui & Subaru & Sumeragi Hokuto, Kamui & Subaru, Kamui & Subaru & Sumeragi Hokuto - Rated T - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Acid Tokyo Arc (Tsubasa), Vampires, Angst, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, can you mourn a sibling you don't remember having?, Parallel Universes, Time Paradoxes - "Before there was Subaru and Kamui, there was Hokuto and Subaru and Kamui. Or: surrounded by water in a strange, new country, Subaru dreams."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60193744

Moonstruck by heyholmesletsgo for ayoforbetterdays

陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) - Song Lan | Song Zichen/Xiao Xingchen - Rated T - Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Fierce Corpse Song Lan | Song Zichen, Flirting, Full Moon, Identity Reveal, Minor Violence - “The cloud passes by, casting them in full moonlight.   Xiao Xingchen’s eyes sink to Song Lan’s neck.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60167524

Potya’s Night Out by ubepandeSol

Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) - Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky - Rated T - Pre-Relationship, group chats, direct messages - “Yuri and Otabek go through a rough patch in their friendship. Told from the POV of Potya, and in the texts Yuri exchanges with Otabek, and his skaters plus coach group chat.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59066806

[sor-vette]

III. Lovers, Forever Cherished

• type: Jungkook x reader (+ ot7 x reader)

• genre: fantasy! & vampire! au, (sort of) exes to enemies/friends/annoyances/lovers it’s complicated and they’re stupid

• t/w: blood and blood-drinking, heavy violence and gore, murder, biting, near-death and main character sorta death (don't click off pls), brainwashing, please I sincerely apologize for the smut, this truly is not it but it had to be included..for reasons, smut (rough sex, fingering, creampie, overstimulation, fucking someone into near unconsciousness, oral (f & m receiving), facefucking, cumplay?, manhandling, stomach bulging)

• rating: explicit • w/c: 9.9k

• tagging: @introlxv; @pinkcherrybombs; @leannsw; @ilsan-seoul; @mageprincess7 • dedicated to @mayla548 (sincere apologies that this took way too long to finish)

• main masterlist • series masterlist

• a/n: this came to me suddenly and with a great effort, hope you enjoy, it was not really read through but ehh. You can now tip me on kofi which is not neccesary but is greatly appreciated :)

Keynan sat shivering on the library chair with a glaring Jungkook hovering not a metre away as you pushed the cup of tea towards him. He wrapped it with both hands, blowing shaky air at the steaming surface.

"Are you sure it was Matthias?" you ask.

"Of course, I'm sure. He... had been acting strange, ever since Kayla disappeared. We thought it was because they were hooking up, but this is, this is something else. That day when we..." he falls silent, throwing an anxious glance at Jungkook whose jaw was audibly grinding. "When we...went past you, he was furious. He started yelling, punching shit. He pushed me away and when Ethan stepped in he just started beating the shit out of him. I tried to pull him off, but he threw me against the wall. When I came to it, I heard screaming in the courtyard and Eugene..." he choked and folded in on himself.

"Matthias is no church boy but Jesus fucking Christ, he's lost his mind."

"Did you go to Kang? Or to anyone?"

"I gave an anonymous tip to the police but fuck all it did! They searched his room but they found nothing. I...I didn't try after that 'cause he kept staring at me like he knew I gave the tip, so I just kept quiet. I-I don't want to die."

"How noble of you," Jungkook hissed and Keynan shrunk in on himself.

"My mom's picking me up tomorrow. I ain't staying in this hellhole anymore!"

A sudden bang against the library's door has you all falling silent. Keynan nearly faints on the ground and you yourself barely keep your heart working in your chest and not in your mouth.

Jungkook lazily rises from the chair and traipses towards the doors with ease. The way he moves, languid like a panther and relaxed like nothing could hurt him, further cemented in your mind who exactly your impromptu friend truly was.

With bated breaths, you wait. He rips the door open, Keynan squeals!

Nothing. There's nothing on the other side.

"Unless you want to pee yourself, filth, stop spewing bullshit and get out of here," Jungkook warns, turning the side of the face so Keynan could see the irritated expression and without much discussion, he does so.

"Can I?" he only mutters to you, pointing at the thermos.

"Sure, knock yourself out."

Keynan swipes it and then limps with his crutch down the hallway, leaping every so often at the slightest noise.

"Boo!" Jungkook whispers in your ear, and you jump out of your skin before smacking him and closing the door behind.

"Everything has gone to shit, has it, Dearest," he mumbles, laughing, and you carefully look him over in the faint library light.

He looked extremely exhausted, blue bags hung underneath his eyes and his face had even fallen gaunter. There was almost a palpable sickness clinging around him.

"Staring again," he teased. "How do I look?"

"Terrible," you are quick to admit, and he snorts, fingers playing with the book spines.

"When was the last time you had blood?"

He freezes and the howling wind rattles louder against the window.

"Never as a normal human being," he lies, quite awfully at that.

You scoff.

"Normal human being, my ass."

He makes no indication of moving or stopping the ridiculous charade, so you stomp the library's window, library hinges creaking in protest when you yank it open. The library sat on the third floor, facing not a nice little patch of grass but a steep incline of a rocky hillside. Eyes widening in terror, Jungkook watches you get on the ledge.

"The fuck are you doing?" he bellows.

"Well, goodbye then, normal human being," and without further ado, you fall backwards.

For a second you wonder what would happen if you were wrong. Other than the fact that you would be in great agony, it'd actually be quite hilarious.

Your pondering doesn't last much longer as you hang suspended in the air, Jungkook grabbing you by the waist while his other dug into the wall. You give him a self-satisfied smirk and then find yourself with two feet firmly on the ground.

"Stop doing that!" he screams in your ear and your backside starts to sting. Around strike eight you realize it's because he was spanking you, like a disobedient child. Still, you can't help but bloom in a broad smile. Jungkook was still frowning when you throw your arms around his neck.

"Please, tell me it's you, please, tell me you've come to take me away!"

He stills in your hold then wraps his arms in return, squeezing ever so lightly as if you'd break at any given second.

"I'm back, my love, I'm back."

You sway in each other's hold as you breathe in his scent. Jungkook was, however, holding his breath.

After a moment he pushes you away, eyes closed and a deep wrinkle festering between his brows.

"When did you become certain it was me?"

"Oh, just now."

His eyes tore open.

"You didn't know, and you threw yourself off the roof?!"

"Well, I was convinced for twenty-five percent," you reason and Jungkook stares at you dumbfounded before whipping you around and laying a series of stern, echoing slaps against your ass.

"You're impossible," he grunts and upon any movement shoves you harder against the desk. When your legs start to wobble, at long last he relinquishes his death grip and pouting, you press your hands against the sore spot.

"It stings now," you whine, and he casts you a dark glance.

"Be grateful that's the only thing that hurts."

You want to tease him further but the way he suddenly collapses against the chair washes a wave of worry over you.

"When was the last time you fed?"

He glances sideways.

"I had...a squirrel a couple of hours ago."

"Can you even consume animals?"

He tosses another indecipherable glare.

"Jin sure did a number on your memory."

Hearing this, you gently smack him against the shoulder.

"Why did you make me forget, you assholes?"

"We didn't know Luara was your friend when she stormed the castle! Namjoon was worried that if you'd be taken hostage, they'd torture the information out of you. So he forced Jin to wipe your memories, so you'd be let go or at least would be classified as no use to the coup," Jungkook protested weakly. "Never did we imagine they'd drop you back here, outside our reach."

He shudders in contempt. You hum to yourself to fill the silence.

"What gave me away?" he suddenly asked, pushing a chair towards you.

"Seriously?" you arch an eyebrow, but Jungkook looks on as confused as he was.

"You show up from nowhere, you wear strange clothes," to illustrate the point you wave over the breezy white shirt he had tucked into his leather pants. "And also your habit of sniffing my clothes and my neck. Real subtle."

"I was trying," he grumbles.

"Were you?" you snort.

"Don't make me spank you again," he warns, and you throw him an evil smirk.

"Oh, no, how horrible that would be."

He momentarily smirks, but that is replaced by a pained grimace and he slumps heavily into the chair, jaw tightened.

"You need to eat something. Here," you push a wrist towards his nose

"No," he whimpers out, veins on his neck standing out black now.

"Oh, come on, you're starving yourself to death!"

He opens his eyes, and they stare bold red back at you. Mutely, he reaches to yank the neck of your sweater, tearing it slightly open. It reveals your shoulder on which there stood a patch of discoloured skin. It was jagged and deep and the tissue was elevated creating an ugly scar that would stay with you for the rest of your life.

Jungkook narrowed it down with a stormy expression.

"Who do you think did it?" he asks you, low, regretful. "It wasn't trolls or goblins or witches or any other filth rolling around the dark. It was us," he pushed the flats of his palms against his eyes. "It was us... If Jin did it, what will I do?"

You gently place a palm against his head, carding through his long hair.

"How about just a gulp? Like a teeny tiny little bit?"

He frowns up at you like you're insane.

"Woman, do you have no self-preservation skills?!"

Truth be told, you didn't. If you did, you wouldn't be so desperate to return to them, to stay in school where Matthias wanted you dead. In comparison, Jungkook to you seemed no more than an aggravated cat, growling but doing nothing to harm you.

"Not really," you shrug. "I hate my life here, might as well risk it for a better one."

In a blink, Jungkook's face is centimetres away from yours. Your teeth rattle as he shakes you, hard, face growing unrecognisable. Deep, black veins stretched underneath his skin and his eyes were completely obscured save for the red rings around the dark that was supposed to be his iris'.

"Shut up! Don't say it like your life means nothing!" he snarls. "Your life is precious! How-how dare you to throw it away like that?!"

'I'm not throwing it away, I'm offering it out of my own free will," you amend, staying as calm as possible. Paradoxically, you were not the one afraid.

Jungkook licks at his lips, fangs poking out. The longer his gaze grows fixated, the hazier his expression gets. You find yourself pushed not backwards but rather pulled towards.

"Just a bite, right?" he weakly utters, tone breaking. Sharp claws dig into the side of your arm. It brings back a sense of déjà vu.

He leans in, sneaking one arm to pull you by the hair while licking at your neck.

"Just a bite..."

And the world implodes.

Literally. The sturdy doors of the library shatter, raining down splinters all across the room. Your stolen thermos jangles on the ground as Keynan is thrown through the doors, his neck standing out at an abnormally sharp angle.

His mouth hangs open, and his eyes stare back at you unseeing.

But the worst of it stood on his forehead. Large, bleeding letters of "YOU'RE NEXT" carved into the skin and with a quickly rising bile, you realise that they were most likely created while he was still breathing.

Your exhale creates large white clouds as you're desperately trying to keep up with Jungkook's incessant pace. Your ears still rang when he had simply tucked you over his shoulder and leapt out the window down onto the cliff face. As you glanced back, windows one by one lighting up, like spreading fire, you realized now more than ever there was no going back. Thermos had your fingerprints and the sign would be interpreted as a threat to others, instead of what it actually was - a noose on your neck.

"Quit stalling," Jungkook growled and yanked you by the elbow. You blinked away a few tears and his expression unwound.

"Why are you crying?"

"No reason," you huffed back. "Let's just go."

And go you did but even in the distance you could hear the horrified screaming. Matthias had somehow managed to take even the very last that you had in this world. You now had nothing but the clothes on your back. Nothing. But also Jungkook.

As you gripped his hand tighter, you comfort yourself with that idea. Still, it was hard. The night was cold and the walk treacherous. The undergrowth of the forest often tripped you, hence slowing you down but it was nothing compared to Jungkook. He was slow and weak, breath growing more laboured with every kilometre put behind. In the end, you had to drag him along, support him on your shoulder while he whispered faint, barely audible directions.

Just when you thought your legs will give out, you finally found the obscured robust block of cement Jungkook was raving about. One of the twenty abandoned bomb shelters built during the Cold War, now laying in disrepair.

You laid Jungkook down on the snow, straining to open the metal doors with all the remaining strength you had. They thunked open with an incredibly loud boom that seemed to reverberate through your bones and throughout the whole forest. Uncannily making you think that if anyone was on your tail, you just gave them a clear cut location of your whereabouts. That knowledge pushed you into a frenzied state of terror. Unceremoniously you pushed Jungkook down the stairs and spot a white, rapidly moving blur rushing inside but more horrifyingly an elongated shadow following in its footsteps. You just barely close the door shut, when it thunks against it. You're left completely blind in the shelter with Jungkook not even breathing as you push him behind you, backing away from the door. But the dark only pronounces every sound to a new cataclysmic height. Every rattle of the door's bolt, every petrified squeak of Mr Red, every pause in which there was a pause and a sniffing noise, raised the hairs at the end of your neck. You gripped Jungkook tight, praying like never before. And to miraculous mercy, the creature stopped and soon there were no sounds but the woosh of the wind. You stand rooted to a spot for quite a while. Only when Mr Red nudges at your ankle with a wet nose, do you scream and then finally cautiously relax.

You pad your way blindly through the room. It was fairly small and after a few steps, you feel something soft, akin to a mattress. You push Jungkook on top of it, feeling sick at how lifeless his head lulled around and quickly try to find some source of lighting. Your fingers trace a lamp and more importantly the candlewick inside it. There are matches nearby and after a few attempts, in your shaky fingers there blooms a tentative light. It allows you to move faster and with more precision. Jungkook was laying drenched in sweat and not breathing. As a vampire, he may not need to breathe but he looked...lifeless. He didn't rouse at any of your attempts to shake him away, nor at the proddings of Mr Red. Not even when you pushed your wrist against his lips did he make any indication of movement. Tears began to stream down your neck, you looked around and upon seeing nothing sharp to cut your veins, you smashed one of the lanterns. Driving the glass shard deep into your wrist, you popped his mouth open and tried to pour as much as you could. When he didn't wake even then, you collapsed on his chest, pressing your bleeding wrist into his mouth.

"I gave it to you, of my own free will..." you sobbed. "How dare you reject your own life for the sake of mine?!"

Pain. Paralyzing pain erupted all over your hand as it was gripped and a pair of fangs stuck into your gaping wound. Terrifying, low snarls came from Jungkook's mouth as he fed with abandon.

"But I don't feel anything," you frowned, tenderly touching the rapidly healing bite mark on your shoulder. You sat on Jungkoo's lap, bathwater steaming all around. He reached to touch it as well, carefully prodding at the bite. You hissed at the sensation but it felt more like a paper cut than a serious wound.

"It's the venom," he explained, lazily leaning back onto the marble edge, broad expansive chest on show.

"It lulls you into not feeling any pain, in order to keep the victim subdued and increase the feeding time. The only time the venom doesn't course is in extreme cases."

"Such as?" you ask as tugs you closer, your breasts squeezing against his chest.

"Don't know, fatigue, starvation. Though don't need to worry about that, do we?" he wiggled his eyebrows and playfully nipped at your neck.

Didn't need to worry then, perhaps, but now... It wasn't the same pleasant haze that settled upon your senses like a heavy dose of anaesthesia that you were familiar with before even in the back of your mind. It felt every bit what it was, teeth like razors sinking into the soft of your wrist and blood being forcibly pulled out of it. You whimpered softly to yourself, braving the pain as best as you could. Becoming increasingly light-headed you tried to pull away. After all, you had offered for Jungkook to drink, seemed slightly silly to back away now but the gnawing worry persisted - the worry of was he even in there to stop when needed?

Feeling the slight struggle, Jungkook growled and preemptively tightened his hold. You tried to instead push his head away but he would not budge. The pitiful slaps of your hands did nothing, didn't even make him blink.

"You're going to kill me," you whispered laying your head down on the dusty mattress. You felt so weak, nausea and vertigo occupying every single thought in your brain. You just wanted to rest. As your mouth hung open, desperately pulling the air that seemed to be not present in the room, the pain abruptly ceased.

Your head lulled on the side and he caught it, eyes wide and unfocused chin dripping in your blood. But he was back, the fear on his face told you as much.

"See? I told you," you smile faintly, lying. "You wouldn't hurt me. Not all the way."

When you come to it, your head is caught in a vice, pounding away at every heartbeat. You clutch at it, trying to alleviate the pressure but to no avail.

"Give it minutes ten to fifteen," a quiet, seething voice orders. Jungkook's quiet and seething voice. He sits in the faint light of the lantern, situated by the table, wood creaking as from a slab or unrefined branch he was carving out a stake. His jaw was clenched, and he spared you not a single glance.

"You're alive," you sigh in relief, but Jungkook doesn't echo the same sentiment.

"And so are you," he snarls. "Miraculously."

"Don't start -"

The stake is thrown against the wall where it bounces back and rolls onto the floor. Mr Red, who previously had lied on your chest unperturbed, scurries off.

"What the hell were you thinking?! Do you know how close you were to dying?!"

"Or how were you?!" you yell back and for a second Jungkook seems almost startled; you never had yelled at him before.

"All this talk about how precious my life is, blah blah. What about yours, huh?! Why am I not allowed to feel appalled by you being in danger?! Why am I not allowed to help?!"

He stares at you back, eyes dark and reflecting the candlelight. He looked like a proverbial Devil, but you happened to love sin more than virtue.

"You're -"

"Human?" you interrupt before squeezing your eyes shut and lowering your pulsating head onto the mattress. "If you're going to keep saying dumb shit, then shut up."

He exhales, fuming but tempered like a bull trying to reign in his tantrum.

"You're the most precious thing in my life," he finishes at last, resolute.

"So are you," you mumble, "but I'm not allowed to show it."

You feel his hand on your head rather than hear his steps approaching near.

"Does it hurt a lot?" he questions, tone softening.

"What do you think, genius?"

A pregnant pause lingers in the air before Jungkook stretches a bleeding finger underneath your nose. You glare at him.

"What do you want me to do here?"

"Suck on it."

Your glare grows even more unamused. Jungkook sighs.

"You know what I mean."

You put his finger in your mouth, shuddering at the iron-like taste of blood but lo and behold, the headache does retreat.

"Are we safe?" you ask wiping your mouth clean and for the first time noticing that he too was clean, though his shirt remained stained with blood. It popped starkly against the white fabric.

"For now. The school is in an uproar but the Lycan is nowhere to be seen, and I couldn't smell anything."

You sit silently for a bit until you realise he was standing as far away as possible, nearly moulding himself into the wall.

“Are you…are you trying to get away from me?”

His eyes widen and he swallows.

“No,” he replies, clearly lying.

To rest out your theory, you get out of bed and take a step forward. He nearly bashes his own skull, desperately drawing back into space that did not exist.

“You are still hungry?” you ask, worried, but Jungkook avidly shakes his head.

“No. Not like that.”

“Then what?”

He glances away, lips thinning.

“Oh, you’re…excited.”

He breathes a deeply suffering exhale.

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”

“Whatever do you mean,” you purr, blooming into a broad smile. It is not reciprocated.

“I’ll have you know that it is a perfectly normal reaction to feeding.”

“Of course, it is.”

“And I’m not -”

You brush your hair away from your neck and stretch it to the side. His eyes remain glued there.

“- I’m not some kind of mindless beast,” he weakly continues.

“Whoever said that?”

He was subconsciously leaning forward, gripping the bunker wall for some restraint.

“I can control myself,” he wearily finishes, and you sagely nod along.

You agreed to wait until the break of dawn to leave and out of four remaining hours two had already passed. And Jungkook was suffering. This was hell, he imagined or better yet - purgatory. Cleansing him, taunting to sin. While the fear of losing it and killing you was still strong, thrumming with every pseudo beat of his dead heart, he had not lied when he told you about the natural reaction. It was, however, more of a causality of feeding on you specifically. He tried his best to summon the vilest and most unpleasant images he could muster, but his body, after nearly a hundred years of being deprived of your blood, was desperate for more. More blood, more pleasure, more you. He recalled you once laughing, saying that he’d Pavlov’d himself and while he did not understand what it meant, he figured he had.

You were sitting idly by, careless as ever, often tracing a lone finger down your neck that trailed lower and lower…Jungkook dared not to look.

“You okay?” you ask, full of mirth.

You’re laughing. He’s suffering and you’re laughing.

He wanted nothing more than to spank you immobile, driven up the literal wall, but he dared not. One would leave to two, two to three, and he’d be cock deep in you, forcing one high after another. There was an emergency at hand, and it would not do for him to be distracted. Even if the list of “why’s” was rapidly shrinking.

“I’m fine,” he growled through gritted teeth.

“You sure? You’re shaking.”

He was shaking. Slightly sweaty as well. Hold it, just hold it, he ordered himself, but the voice was too meek for his liking.

“I’m getting rather bored and lonely here,” theatrically, you sighed, accidentally sliding the jumper off one of your shoulders.

“Just wait until I get my hands on you,” Jungkook warned, squeezing his eyes shut though it did little damage. He had plenty of memories to seek inspiration from.

“And do what?” you dared and his nails sunk into the steel. “Can’t you control yourself?”

“I almost killed you, woman!”

“Almost doesn’t count,” you amend, smugly.

“I can’t stand you.”

“Sit then.”

His eyes wrench open and he finds you pulling the jumper even lower, revealing the slightest peek of your cleavage. Revealing but not displaying. And he was rather tired of it.

“I wonder how far I can go.”

He watches you adjust yourself to sit on your knees on that piss poor excuse of a mattress and slowly brush your fingers downward.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, eyes turning darker and darker but it falls on deaf ears.

“Or what?” you slip them past the waistband and Jungkook stops breathing. If he stays away, he loses, if he bends you over and makes you regret your words in tears, he also, somehow, loses.

Shocked into a stupor he holds the wall with his dear life, shaking from head to toe. Even his fangs were again nipping at his bottom lip.

With a soft, keening moan you start to ride your own fingers and if he could produce tears, he’d wail like a newborn baby.

“Mmm…feels lame,” your face contorts into disappointment. “I’d ask for help but I guess you’re not my good boy anymore.”

He swallows hard and mind drawing a blank for a second, releases the wall. He feels himself walk forwards, licking at his itching fangs, mesmerized by the sight.

“I am. I’m still yours, Mistress.”

With eyes closed, your lips curl into a sharp, pleased smirk. Gentle monster, Namjoon called you and he was right.

“Hmm. But do you know what I want, Jungkook?”

“What?” he was a breath away from you, more than half resigned to the cruel fate. You open your eyes and pin him down with a coquettish glint.

“I want a really, really bad boy.”

Should he guess, Jungkook would say it’s your daring that broke the camel’s back but it could also be any number of thousand other things, none of which he cared about.

Gripping your hair, he pulled your face in for a harsh kiss. The skin of your lip breaks and it bleeds into his mouth. He lets out a prolonged moan.

Trembling all over and his skin feeling like a furnace, he grasped the neck of your jumper and ripped it open.

“Wait…no! That was my fav-!”

Fangs on display and eyes blown back into their regressed stage, he grasped your cheeks, snarling.

“Shut your mouth or I’m going to gag you with it.”

He thinks, he hopes this will put a stop to your nonsense, but it doesn't.

"Oh, as if you would," you whine petulantly. "You're too much of a good boy, my kind little vampiric bunny-"

He narrows his eyes at you, gripping your hair just a little bit tighter.

"Don't test me," he growls in your face and to his own exhaustion saw you literally bloom in happiness.

Oh, how much you enjoyed driving him into lunacy.

"Or what?"

He grips your jaw and brings it forth to his crotch.

"Pull it out on your own or I swear to every unholy thing on all existing worlds, I'll tie your hands behind your back and fuck your throat raw."

He actually could swear that for a moment you had the audacity to quirk your mouth upwards in a smile. Still, you complied and he hissed at the feeling of your hands grasping around his length. He allowed you a few quick breaths before hooking your mouth open and sliding it in. Immediately, your eyes closed as you frantically tried to breathe through your nose. Already the muscles in your jaw ached, gag reflex working in overdrive but slowly he slid it in.

"You can make this easy for yourself," he grunted, trying his hardest not to buck up into your mouth as he observed how your eyes watered at the intrusion. "We can go nice and slow-!"

Without warning you plunged your mouth forward, taking him all in and hollowing out your cheeks. Propelled into the high skies, he threw his head back and let out a long, starved moan, hands automatically coming to clutch your head to keep it in place.

Your throat was fighting and the feel of it fluttering around his cock had him shivering and abandoning all reason.

"I actually hate you," he muttered, pushing up into you and for the umpteenth time he could only marvel at your nerve - you simply put a thumbs up in reply, even as tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were gagging at his every movement.

He pushed your mouth further down his length, bobbing it and mindlessly chasing his own pleasure, whilst your nails ripped into the mattress, clawing at it from the lack of oxygen. He pulled himself out of your mouth and you gasped, precum sliding down your chin.

There was a vague faintness in your eyes like already he had fucked you out of all inhibitions.

"Baby-"

"No, you're baby," you counter, voice barely audible and rasping.

His jaw clenched, as his fingers pulled your hair back, forcing your head to tilt upwards.

"Insult or term of endearment?"

"Absolutely an insult."

This time he was significantly less regretful of the sounds you made as he fucked your throat. You yourself could swear you're going to pass out, body falling limp and jaw screaming from the way it was forced open but seeing him so out of control, made you, despite the position, feel good. They did nothing but drive you wild, mad, and all-around crazy, it was only fair you could ebb away at their decorum just a little bit.

Right on the cusp of losing consciousness, he pulled away and you panted large mouthfuls of air, throat screaming from what it was put through.

Jungkook slid your hand down his length, eyes hazed over and switching in between the masked and their true state.

"Open your mouth," he hissed and you did so, at the moment, not wanting any more punishment. He came on your tongue in large spurts and it dripped down your chin.

"Don't swallow."

"Don't?" you weakly echoed, still getting your bearings, battling a sudden bout of dizziness.

"I like the mess," he explained in a growl, watching you brace yourself on your arms, panting and spent, his cum dribbling down your tongue.

“Get on your back and spread your legs.”

You threw him an exhausted glance but the way his face stood stony and resolute, there was no arguing to be done. You hadn't just pushed his buttons, but broken them, smashed them into little pieces, threw those pieces out the window and let the earth consume them. You did as he ordered but for Jungkook, it was still too slow. Yanking you closer, he forced your legs open, diving in without hesitation.

“You’re…you’re being…too rough,” you chided.

“If you want this, you’ll get all of this,” he grunted back, simultaneously plunging his fingers in your pussy and his fangs into your inner thigh. Your walls were quivering, trying to somehow deal with the intrusion. As you tossed your head back, a broken whine leaving your mouth, his other hand tapped away. Five, he would go no more than five and then the feeding would stop. While incredibly hard to do so, he did pull himself back, licking at any stray droplets of blood, turning then back to suck on your clit. You crashed unexpectedly for both of them, walls squeezing his fingers, hands pulling at his hair whilst screaming into the pillow.

“Turn over,” he ordered and your eyes widened.

“Give me a hot second, Je-!”

His growl vibrated all the way to his chest and he flipped you over like a ragdoll.

“Now.”

You gulped. One was for certain, you will not walk ever again.

“You’re trying to rip me open here?” you half-joked and Jungkook tugged the hair out of your neck.

“Actually trying really hard not to,” he mumbled, laying a gentle kiss by your ear.

“Promises, promises,” you smiled as he tugged your shaking legs open again.

“You good with this?” he asked, frowning.

“Yeah…just remember that I’m still human.”

“Could have fooled me,” he breathed, pressing one last kiss to your neck before driving his fangs and his cock in. The numbing poison had kicked back in once the initial feeding was done and put you in a state of removed consciousness. Unable to think or move, you could just take and did Jungkook give.

Growling as he drank in a frenzied haze, he pushed all of himself in, forcing your legs apart and into the mattress. You screamed a half-choked sob, unable to cope with everything all at once. He smacked his hips against yours, the aged bed rattling with all its remaining life force.

Once five was counted, he unclenched his jaw, sinking his claws all the way into the metal springs. Soon enough you started shaking, your walls convulsing around him, stretched to the absolute limit.

“Hold on for me, okay, baby,” he pleaded, gently trying to ease the overstimulation by carding his fingers through your hair but it did not help. You twitched and thrashed underneath him, mouth open in incoherent moans.

“Just one more, just one,” he lied, biting in your shoulder again, sitting down on his legs and tugging you along with him. Completely caging you in his arms, he physically forced your body down his cock, harsher and harsher and harsher until his own mind and vision began to blur. You had tossed your head on his shoulder, eyes rolling back into your head, choking on a string of broken gasps. Seeing your stomach rhythmically bulge, he snuck his palm down to press against your stomach.

“Fuck, I can feel myself in you,” he groaned, delirious. “Look what you do to me. I’d do anything for you. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

With a few brutal thrusts, he came inside, shivering and mouthing nonsense against your ear. You have grown still. Worryingly still.

Jungkook leaned over your shoulder, seeing you gasping for breath, saliva sliding down the corner of your mouth. He wiped it away.

“You’re not dead, are you?” he laughed nervously but checked your pulse nonetheless, gently cradling down your high.

“Dude, I nearly did,” you whispered, voice a mere whisper.

“Dude,” he snickered. “Only you would call someone dude who just broke your back.”

When he softened enough, he, as carefully as possible, pulled himself out. Nonetheless, you winced.

“Shit, does it hurt a lot?” he caressed your back, a fresh wave of guilt washing over him as you laid down on your side, trembling from the aftershock.

“Yeah, because you’re a beast.”

He bit the inside of his wrist and pushed it underneath your nose.

“Here,” he put a palm under your head, to help you get up.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t enjoy sipping on your veins like a Capri Sun,” you wrinkled your nose in disgust, eyes falling shut from exhaustion. Despite it, after a moment of contemplation, when one movement caused a sharp spike of pain flame throughout your spine, you put your lips against the wound, timidly drinking from it. While you fed, Jungkook tried to comb through your hair - unsuccessfully so.

You gagged and pulled your blood-stained mouth away.

“That is so gross,” you shuddered.

“Are you truly okay?” he fretted, worry etching even deeper as he examined the large bite marks left behind, painting your skin red and blue. “I was…I was too much…”

“Yeah but I kind of liked it,” you admitted in a whisper, head falling limp in his arms.

“You’re a freak,” Jungkook breathed out in faint wonder, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, keeping a finger on the pulse of your wrist.

“Says the blood-sucking beast from another reality.”

“So, you know it’s bad.”

Namjoon pulled Taehyung's head down as the blast decimated the part of the rock that previously served as their shield.

"I'm tentatively assuming they do not want us here," Taehyung yelled over the explosions.

Jimin slid to the ground, cowering from the blasts and crashing into Hoseok's legs.

"The gate -" he panted, "the gate is 60 kilometres that way."

The hand he threw encompassed both south and west and north for good measure.

"They're tightening the security because they got a Lycan clan also moving into the territory."

"What the hell is going on?" Yoongi cursed as he picked up a rock and threw it into the crowd, by the sounds of it managing to hit at least one bastard.

"Taehyung mentioned that he smelled a werewolf in his last letter," Jin recounted, deep in thought as shards of rock and pine rained over him. "But he also killed it?"

"There has to be more than one!" Jimin insisted, a worried frown pulling at his face. "The Lycan forces are moving in on the Gate to retrieve someone. Maybe... a master? Perhaps the wolf that Jungkook killed was just an underling."

"As nice as that theory is," Yoongi grunted, pushing Jin out of the blast zone, glaring back at Luara's imperial guard, advancing forth on their territory. "We can't sit here and discuss it further. We need to move!"

"If Jungkook and _____________ come through without our help the Lycans will rip them apart!" Taehyung fretted pulling Namjoon into a sprint.

That is if they're not killed already on the Other World, he thought grimly. As they ran bats scattered from high up the treetops and took a hasty flight.

"What do you mean no?" Jungkook asked, palming at his temples. He maybe not exactly alive anymore but he could swear you were capable of giving him a headache.

"I mean it in the most literal way. We have enough time to go meet professor Wilkins, get the evidence from the roof and then swiftly disappear through the Gate."

"Need I remind you there's still a werewolf roaming around," he hissed, wincing at the glare of the bright, dusking sun reflecting back from the gathered snow. "Quite possibly the same fucking prick that threatened you and you want to climb onto a roof?"

"Exactly. If Matthias is a werewolf who's to say he won't go on a killing spree from spite! He needs to be put away!"

Jungkook groans and rolls his eyes.

"Who cares about him? Let's just wait for the full moon, be safe and then go through!"

"You don't care that he could slaughter the entire school?"

"No? Am I supposed to?"

You glare at him. He glares back but after a few seconds relents.

"I should have fucked you harder. So you couldn't walk into stupid shit."

You smile wryly.

"You'd paralyze me in that case."

When you sneak into the courtyard, much to the help of Jungkook, professor Wilkins was coughing into a handkerchief.

"Ah, ________________ how good that you came! ....and you, young man," he greets Jungkook cordially who grunts into annoyance. The bare slivers of orange sun peeked over the forest and you look back to it, longingly, holding its light in your gaze foreseeably for the last time.

"So what is this evidence you want my Mistress to search for?" Jungkook snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. If Wilkins has any questions about the term, he does not express them, instead of sniffing into the handkerchief once more.

"I saw Matthias after Eugene's death limping past and part of his shirt was torn off. I presume that as the boys fought it was ripped off during the struggle. It could hold a DNA strand."

"All presumptions," Jungkook clenched his jaw and you elbowed him.

"He'll go take a look at the roof, bring the evidence and then professor Wilkins you have to make sure that Matthias is arrested. He's dangerous."

"Are you not planning on being here?" Wilkins raises his eyebrows, glancing toward Jungkook.

"We...have a place to return to," you explain and the last slip of light disappears over the horizon, plunging St. Augustine's into darkness. You shuddered and Jungkook's hand immediately covered your lower back, tracing soothing circles.

"Very well then," Wilkin's shrugged. "Let's go, we need to move quickly."

The path to the roof was extremely complicated. Every inch of every floor was covered with patrolling policemen. Briefly, you glanced at the stairs to the library and found them bearing smeared bloodstains. Jungkook turned your head away. It didn't help much that Wilkins' cough was getting progressively more dry and hacking. This man's lungs were practically coming out of his mouth.

"Perhaps you need to go rest, professor," you recommend with a frown but he merely presses a handkerchief against his lips, stifling the horrible sound, waving his hand.

"No, dear, thank you for worrying. This is quite normal."

How, you wanted to ask, but you were already nearing the roof and that pushed the worry for his wellbeing far away. Plunging the aged, large keys into the keyhole, the small doors up the rickety staircase were popped open, wafting with it a stench of mould and wet wood.

Jungkook tensed by your side.

"What is it?" you whispered as Wilkin's crawled up the stairs.

"Lycan," he muttered back, eyeing every part of the surroundings.

You pat his hand, trying partly to calm yourself down, and he offers a small incline of lips, that falls too terse to be of any comfort, whilst pressing a wooden stake in your hand, mutely gesturing for you to hide it into your jacket. Sensing the same oppressive aura of something evil skunking around, you obey him, just this once.

You, Jungkook and Wilkins reach up the large shaft that reaches the roof and he gestures for Jungkook to go up.

"Well, young man, you look spry and athletic, please go forth."

Jungkook eyes him darkly and then growls, voice edging to fall two octaves deeper.

"If anything happens to her, professor, I'll personally guide you to the gates of hell."

Wilkins grimaces but raises his hands, as though to say he won't. Jungkook tosses you an anxiety-ridden glance and then climbs up the small stairs through the hatchway. In the cramped, odorous space a single, flickering lightbulb is illuminating your way

The way it sways back and forth worries you. The entire atmosphere suddenly feels much too cold and without wanting your mind begins to wreck with anxiety.

Wilkins taps his foot, back slumped, against the ground, peering deep into its crack.

"So where do you need to return to?" he asks lightly but does not raise his head.

"Just a place," you evade. "One I used to call home."

Wilkins falls silent and the longer he does the tenser you become. The tension had become so thick your mouth is refusing to properly work.

"I also would return home."

You surreptitiously take a step back.

You're not quite certain why but it feels like the right thing to do.

"Is it far?" you question, trying to keep the conversation going while putting larger space between you and Wilkins. His numb staring at the floor is offputting even if physically he still looked like half a rodent.

"Very far," he muses dreamily. "So far, in fact, most people can't find it. So imagine my surprise when you and Luara did."

Your heart freezes and you take a bold step back, fingers brushing against the stake in your jacket. Wilkins raises his head and there's a new glint in his eyes. One of sneer and contempt. Never before you'd seen an expression like this on this sleep-deprived, mousy man's face.

"Which would be fine," he hissed, stretching abruptly a bit taller, whilst looking down on you. "If not for that bitch casting a prohibition spell on this gate. You came back a second time and funnily enough, you know, what I discovered? I couldn't go back. The gate now has to be opened from the other side and only on a full moon," as he spoke, his tone dropped lower and increased in confidence, vibrating through your ribcage.

"And because of your stupid vampiric lover, only one single chance is left to go through it while the prohibition spell is still standing. Your precious Luara made sure that people no longer could waltz back and forth."

Your back smacked against the small door leading up to the rooftop. You were almost relieved to be out of the small, enclosing space only for a sweaty arm link around your throat, pressing all air out of your lungs.

"Hoseok, it's not worth it!" Jin yelled, clawing his way out through the bloodied mass. Hoseok was snarling back at Ereghin. Without a doubt, both men recognised each other and especially how the former set the latter on fire during the invasion of their home.

Hoseok's lingering on Ereghin caused him to not see one of the bigger Lycan's lunging straight for him. Namjoon kicked his own enemy in the jaw, causing the neck to snap against the ground and quickly pulled the wolf off Hoseok, presenting its throat to Yoongi who ripped it out with his teeth.

It was a bloodbath.

The moon shone brightly above their heads in the everlasting night and all, Luara's private guard led by Marquis Ereghin, Lycans and vampires, were caught in a fierce battle for the gate that was glimmering to open. Like a crack in space and time, it stood some distance above a small rocky hill, waiting for who would be the person to come through.

Lycans rushed their way to achieve higher ground and guard it closer but Jimin and Taehyung were holding the front. Both drenched in blood and littered with claw marks they ripped to frenzied abandon. Jungkook one of their strongest had left. They remained six. Six against a pack of thirty Lycans and fifty-five Luara's men who were dropping like flies and dealt little damage to the wolf pack.

Bats scattered with loud cries across the battlefields, tearing at the eyes and escaping the snapping jaws of the wolves before diving through the gate, guided by Namjoon's signal.

As soon as Jungkook stepped on that ledge of the roof he knew he had made a colossal mistake. The stench was almost overpowering. No longer the slight saccharine stench lingering in the halls but potent. Potent and old. So old that no youngster like Kayla or Matthias could ever possess.

He heard your heart rage in fear downstairs but the hatchway for some reason did not budge even though he pulled it with all his might. It was bolted such with perhaps a rudimentary piece of magic, but one Jungkook being a vampire had no power to break.

"Please, sir," to your surprise Matthias whimpered. He sounded too scared for a man who was strangling you. Your nails dug into his skin, drawing blood but he paid it no attention. Only shaking and crying out but Wilkins' face remained unchanged.

"Please, sir, please, please, don't make me kill again, please!"

Dark spots were swimming in your vision as you clawed for your breath.

"Please, don't make me turn!"

"STOP SNIVELLING, BOY!" Wilkins' abruptly yelled and Matthias' flinched, covering himself behind you even as his hand tightened to the point you thought your head would snap off.

"I GAVE YOU SO MANY CHANCES AND YOU COULD NOT KILL A HUMAN TO SAVE YOUR LIFE!"

Matthias despite still squeezing your throat in a chokehold was taking slow steps backwards and upon seeing it Wilkins' launched into a new bout of rage.

"TURN, BOY, TURN! THIS IS AN ORDER!"

"No, please, no... it hurts, sir, it hurts..."

"TURN NOW!"

"Please...I don't want to kill anymore..."

"I SAID TURN!" Wilkins' eyes momentarily erupted in bright gold and Matthias' lurched forward, retching and shaking, a heavy layer of sweat covering his forehead. Released from his grasp, you fell against the wall, trying to regain both your breath and control over your shaking legs.

As Matthia's turned he was crying and pleading all the way and despite the misery, he had put you through, your heart ached at the sight of him begging for the pain to stop. His limbs broke and then stretched to unnatural degrees, fur begin to grow all over his skin and not long after instead of a boy, your classmate, stood an impossibly large wolf. His eyes were dull and you didn't dare to hope Matthias was there to have any say in what he was doing.

"Find the vampire," Wilkins ordered, "and kill him."

Matthias launched through the door, raining down shards of wood like he presumably had done that night at the library.

"And now back to you," Wilkins turned around once by the sounds of it Matthias had clawed his way to the roof.

With shaky knees, you pulled yourself upright and as Wilkins advanced forward you pulled the stake Jungkook had given you and stabbed it deep into his abdomen. He grunted in pain but other than that made no sign of being mortally wounded.

"Are you fucking braindead?" he growled, pushing you with one hand so impossibly hard it sent you flying down the hall. "You are supposed to stab it through the heart."

Upon the roof, Jungkook had managed to grasp around Matthias' throat, trying his hardest to sink his teeth into the wolf's artery but he was much stronger and much more delirious than Kayla had been and still partly starved Jungkook found himself quickly losing ground. A full moon shone upon the valleys of the St. Agustine's forest and in the distance, he spotted the betraying gleam of the Gate standing open against the ticking clock.

Using this minuscule moment of him being distracted, Matthias sunk his jaws deep into Jungkook's shoulder causing him to let out a pain-filled scream. The wolf tossed him down and Jungkook rolled down the roof, grabbing onto the ledge at the last possible second. As Matthias advanced ready to gnaw Jungkook's hand should he need to, a large, screeching shadow rose from the trees and rapidly flew towards the roof, like a black, unescapable mass, obscuring the moon. Bats. Namjoon's familiars.

They surrounded Matthias in an instant, nipping and clawing every place they could reach and it wasn't long before one of Matthias' eyes was gouged out. The young wolf howled against the moon.

"Thank you, Joon. Thank you so much," Jungkook whispered and proceeded to crawl himself upwards.

"Taehyung, to your left!" Jimin called out, but Taehyung was encircled at this point. Luara's men all but two had been slaughtered and there were twenty wolves against six vampires. Jimin was desperately trying to fight one whose breath was on his face, while Taehyung dodged the attacks of two.

Jin pushed himself in front as one of them delivered a swipe of bared claws. He took it to the chest, hissing in pain but managed to punch the wolf down the mound where Yoongi was swift to break its ribcage.

Ereghin was one of the last men standing, backing up into snarling Hoseok, forgetting that this too was no friend of his. Without much empathy, Hoseok laid his palm against the man's back and after enjoying the short-lived moment of the man's eyes widening in terror, he pushed him into the advancing wolf mass. They ripped him apart without a second thought and Hoseok used the opportunity to lead Namjoon and Yoongi up the cliff. Jin was cradling his chest, injured but alive and Jimin had managed to get his hands around the wolf's jaws wrenching them apart until Lycan's face split in two.

They all panted into the cold air, teeth bared and ready to fight until death for Jungkook's and your safety of coming home once more.

"Well, gentlemen," Jin heaved. "What a glorious life this has been."

As you hit the ground for the third time, tossed much like a ragdoll one of your ankles snapped, producing a sickly, wet crunch.

Despite his appearance, Wilkins was far from being an old sickly man though he could not turn or so you surmised.

He grabbed you by the hair, harshly pulling up and you screamed in pain, trashing in his hold.

"Youngsters these days," Wilkins sighed sounding almost bored. "They just have no brains. Kayla was so useless and honestly, I was glad that vampiric whore put her down but then Matthias? Not much better. All he did was cry about how he didn't want to kill his friends but how else would I have you desperate enough to be lured here. You would have gone through the gate and where would that leave me? Marooned here. Forever. No thank you," after saying that he put his wrinkled hands against your head and forcefully turned it to the side.

He was going to snap your neck.

Suddenly the horrible pain in your nape lessened and Wilkins screamed. You glanced back, blood seeping from your mouth and a white spot had jumped on top of Wilkins' face, clawing anywhere they could reach.

Mr Red had come to your aid.

On the roof, despite the injured shoulder Jungkook was faring much better than he did before. The bats did not stop screeching and tearing out chunks of Matthias' flesh. The wolf batted at them, striking some down, but each time he did, Jungkok was quick to dive in, deal damage to his vital areas and then flee out of the way. Overwhelmed, Matthias was blindly backing up to the very end of the roof, desperate to escape the clawing hands but in doing so he was nearing the large drop down into the other side of St. Augustine. Where the fall did not end in the courtyard but the large, rocky cliff-face Jungkook himself had barely managed to safely jump down upon. He waited until the right moment before ramming all of his weight into the wolf. Matthias' hind legs caught in the empty space and he began to slide down into the chasm. For a split second, Jungkook saw recognition in the wolve's dark eyes. Recognition and a twisted sense of peace. During the very last second, Matthias struggled no more and simply let his claws skate against the roof tiles before falling all the way down and out of sight.

"________________!" Jungkook breathed.

Mr Red squeaked as Wilkins got a hold of him, roughly tossing the rabbit against the wall. It fell down on the stone floor unmoving. With a sense of unsurmountable grief, you watched his small red eyes grow vacant.

Wilkins' face was gashed up into something frightful. He roared as he clutched at it and shaking from head to toe, you put forward all you had, squeezing the stake firmly in your hands.

Wilkins stumbled and shrieked, haphazardly clawing and hitting the air. You dodged his attacks and dived forth, wielding the stake and as he so kindly reminded you right into his chest. You overestimated your own strength and while it did push the wood through his chest, breaking bones and plunging into his heart it also staggered you against and through the window. Wilkin's was first to fall, most likely dead already. His body smacked against one of the sharp peaks of the small, decorative towers and his head cracked open, smearing the light brown stone in dark stains. You managed to catch onto the windowsill but with only one hand. Looking down, it was much higher than the fall before. You would die if you would let go.

You grunted and tried to crawl upwards but your strength was running out.

"______________! Don't let go!" Jungkook's voice could be heard from down the hall and even now you smiled upon hearing it. Your eyes watered. How will you explain to him that Mr Red was dead?

One by one your fingers slipped away from the windowsill. You felt the air rush against your skin as Jungkook ran forth but right at the second he reached for your hand, his shoulder flared up with pain and instead of grasping firmly by your hand, his fingers merely grazed against yours and you fell.

"Come on, ____________, what's the worst than could happen?"

You could only see Jungkook's scream and his big terrified eyes as he grew smaller into the distance. Your ears were full of rushing wind and Luara's faint teasing voice.

You both stood before a peculiar glowing circle, etched into the air like smudged paint.

"A magical glowing portrait appeared out of nowhere and you want to step through it?!" you scoffed and Luara laughed in response.

"Of course! Who knows, maybe you'll find someone who really loves you on the other side."

Jungkook, at last, had grown so small, you could not see him and as you hit the ground, you could no longer see anything.

They all trembled, barely standing on their legs, dead wolves littered all around. Hoseok supported Jin and Jimin tried to mend Yoongi's broken leg to the best of his abilities.

Namjoon stared at the gate, gnawing on his lips, hands shaking in fright.

"Come on, Jungkook," he whispered. "Come on, come through."

At the moment when they thought all hope was lost a curly head peeked through. At first, they pulled a deep breath of relief, but upon seeing Jungkook's tear-stained face, it was replaced with debilitating fear. He carried you in his hands as gently as he could, setting you down on the ground and then placing his head against your stomach.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I'm sorry."

They all perked their ears, to hear once more the delightful fluttering of your heart.

Only silence.

"No..." Jimin cried, hiding into Jin who could only stare, uncomprehending.

Namjoon's knees buckled and he fell beside you in the snow. In your death, you looked so small and vulnerable. He took a hold of your hand, pressing it against his forehead. Everyone gathered around, weeping.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love."

Namjoon exhaled, for the first time in his very long life, feeling helpless.

Something flicked against his forehead.

He wrenched his eyes open and stared at your face. He could not hear your heartbeat but your pinky was twitching.

"Jungkook, Jungkook!"

"I'm sorry..."

"Jungkook, sober up! Did you give her your blood?"

As they garnered no response, Taehyung yanked Jungkook's face upwards, shaking him.

"Did you give her your blood?"

A grimace of confusion passed his face as he tried to think of anything other than wanting to die along with you.

"Yes," at last, he croaked out. "A little bit in between..."

Yoongi kneeled next to Namjoon tossing him a terrified, albeit tentatively hopeful glance.

"Is...is a little bit enough?"

"It could be," Namjoon replied, voice shaking. With their breaths bated they could only wait and steadily, one by one your fingers began to twitch and then...you stirred.

Jimin rushed to your side, gently caressing your head.

"Hey," he forced through the tears. "Hey, angel, come on, wake up, you can do it..."

At the first crack of your eyes, they did not even know what to say.

"You're home again," Hoseok whispered in a faint, barely audible whisper.

Your lips parted and you pulled in a deep breath. It was very cold but you felt no pain.

"Finally," you exhaled into the wintery air of the Other World.

The moon dipped behind the horizon and the Gate closed with it.

THE END.

© sor-vette, 2022

[strawwritesfic]

Clint Barton x Female!Civilian!Reader: Pusher

Summary: Holding out for a hero never does you much good...until tonight.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (alcohol; alcohol consumption; language; threatening behavior; possible abduction; meet-cute)

Challenge: "120 Bits of Random" challenge by SugarLandBabyGirl on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​​

Pusher

Even with the alcohol running through your system, you knew a bad situation when you saw one. The guy herding you toward the bar parking lot had seemed nice enough back at your table when he’d came by to keep you company while your friends were out dancing. Now something about Jared just screamed creep.

“What’s the hold up?” he asked as you hesitated once again to look at the dance floor. 

You had hoped you’d be able to wave a friend over to rescue you. If any of them remained in the club, they couldn’t see you any more than you could see them. As far as you could tell, the only person near enough to hear or see you was some drunk guy slumped over at a table to your left–and fat lot of good he would do you in a pinch.

While you were busy trying to fighting through the haze of the shots you’d consumed that evening, Jared smiled and pushed you toward the exit again. 

“Come on,” he said in a hard, sugary voice. “I haven’t got all night.”

Unable to control your tongue well enough for a sharp response, you only laughed weakly. Were you drunk? No. But you were pretty buzzed, and Jared wasn’t having much trouble shoving you exactly where he wanted you to go. Once outside, nobody would see you. Maybe you couldn’t think straight, but you knew you didn’t want this complete stranger to get you to a secondary location.

“You weren’t teasing me earlier, were you?” he asked.

You shook your head frantically before attempting to dart around him back to the relative safety of the crowd. 

Jared blocked your way, still grinning. “Running off on me wouldn’t be very polite, especially after I bought you a drink and all.”

“I–” Finally, words! Well, a word. Thank God said word started an excuse: “...need to get back. I’m the designated driver tonight.”

“You’re in no state to drive yourself. How about I drive you home?”

“No, thank you. They’ll worry if they can’t find me when they’re ready to leave. We’ll call a cab.”

He placed his hand on your shoulder, then slid it slowly down your arm. His smile didn’t put you at ease. You tensed under his touch with your mind racing uselessly. 

“Don’t be like that. We’re really hitting it off here.” The hand on your arm thrust you backward, causing you to stumble. “We’re almost to my car already. So let’s just–”

“I think the lady’s made it perfectly clear she doesn’t want to go anywhere with you.”

Both your and the man’s heads whipped around toward the table where the drunk guy had been slumped only minutes before. He wasn’t drunk anymore. Now you didn’t think he hadn’t been drunk at all. His blue eyes were sharp and clear as they trained on your companion’s face, and his smile remained polite as he waited for an answer.

“You stay out of this,” Jared said stiffly. 

The-not-so-drunk guy smiled more widely and shifted in his seat. Suddenly, the nocked bow he held under the table became very apparent, and it was trained right Jared’s head.

“Let’s try this again,” said the not-so-drunk guy calmly. “I think the lady’s made it perfectly clear she doesn’t want to go with anywhere. If you’re in such a rush to get home, why don’t you go ahead and leave?”

You froze in place, still with his hand clutching your arm. Who brought a bow to a club? Whatever the reason, aggravating this intruder probably wouldn’t do you any favors. Best not to attract his attention.

Jared apparently didn’t think the same way. “You–You’re fucking crazy. Bet you can’t even shoot that thing properly,” he said.

“Maybe I am. You want to keeping standing still there? We can find out real fast if I’m a decent shot."

Your possible hero tapped several seconds off with his foot. You guessed that Jared must have decided you weren’t worth the trouble of a possible arrow to the brain, because he made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat, threw you out of his way, and walked out the door, muttering darkly all the while.

You didn’t thaw out right away. Who knew? Perhaps Jared would pop back inside and drag you out to his car after all. When several minutes had passed and he didn’t return, your muscles  slowly unwound. Once they did, you had calmed enough to notice the not-so-drunk guy’s bow was gone. His unusually sharp gaze fell now upon you.

“You all right?” he asked. 

You nodded shakily. 

“Need some help getting home?”

After the near-disaster you had only just avoided, was it any surprise that you quickly shook your head again? What if that guy had only rescued you so he could get you somewhere alone himself? You didn’t want to be rude, though. Swallowing roughly, you managed to rasp:

“My friends are around here somewhere.”

“Busy with their dates?” 

You shrugged.

He pulled out the chair next to him and pointed at it. “How about I sit with you until they’re ready to leave, then? I promise I won’t try to take you anywhere.”

You hesitated. The thought of waiting somewhere alone again made you shiver. Without speaking, you walked swiftly over and sat down.  Neither of you spoke for a long while. Eventually, he stopped watching you and turned his attention to bartender a few feet away. About half an hour later, your voice and your manners returned.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

He turned to you with a smile. “It was my pleasure.”