#she’s like a bartender that has heard too many stories from too many strangers

[happytobeherekinda]

ballora is the self insert we all (me) need. just going around befriending everyone morally questionable just cus you think they’re interesting. not condoning their actions but still being a friend cus they’re cool and they need one. going along with the chaos of it all cus what the hell! also you’re incredibly attractive and gay

[sp0o0kylights]

You know what I want to see, I want to see more of Steve, Eddie, and Robin being 1980s small town kids from Indiana, by which I mean;

Robin is The Source of Gay Knowledge purely because her parents host Hippie Christmas and she managed to sneak away to find a neat bookstore in Indiana once. 

Her knowledge is not in depth. It's patchy, woven together through rumors, stories she heard or things she picked up from her parents' old pictures. She's got a handful of zines, one book, and some movies she managed to order for Family Video behind Keith's back.

She acts like she's Queen of the Queers because in Hawkins she pretty much is.

(Max and El ask her what a lavender marriage is once, something they overheard snooping around. 

Robin confidentially answers that it's code for when one woman dresses up as a man, fooling officials into wedding two woman.

She does not live this down two years later when they find out what it actually means.) 

Eddie doesn't spend every weekend in Indianapolis. 

Gas is expensive, his busiest days of his "job" is Friday and Saturday, and he has no fucking clue what the hanky code is. 

He's wearing that bandana because Metallica front singer James Hetfield has one on all their tour posters. 

Eddie does make it down to a gay bar though, by accident. Rick needed some back up for a shady deal. Promised Eddie a boatload of free drugs to sell if he agreed to just stand there and look mean. 

He was warned the bar they were meeting in was 'weird' and to not 'freak out' --which Eddie thought was hilarious given his nickname and general appearance, but whatever.

He doesn't understand when they get there, because it's just a bunch of hot men with hanky's in their back pockets everywhere.

Then he sees two women kissing and it clicks. 

He can't out himself in front of Rick, but one of the bartenders playfully dresses him down for his own hanky, letting him know all about the code and teasing him through his embarrassment. 

He's got an offer to come back and learn what color and which pocket his hanky should actually be in, a prospect Eddie was salivating at until Chrissy Cunningham up and died on his ceiling.

(He still wore the hanky, because the feeling of that bartender tugging it out and stuffing it back in might be the closest thing he's ever had to sex and he absolutely wants a repeat. 

He's young and horny, sue him.) 

Steve Harrington may not be academically smart but he's not dumb. 

He figured out a while back that the basketball team as a unit probably crossed the queer line more than once--or at least it did before Hargrove came in. 

( Brad Handly for example, went around slamming kids into lockers and screaming slurs like a fucking movie villain one Monday because the varsity team got dead drunk at Laura's party on Sunday and hey, look, there weren't that many girls there, okay?

They all had fucking hands and mouths. Everybody but Tommy was single and hot to trot. Nothing gay about it.

Its not even like they were kissing or treating each other like chicks. It was just Brad's first time and they got to tease him later for overthinking it. 

Dude graduated soon enough after and given Steve was on the team as a sophomore, he hadn't thought about the guy and why he might be freaking out so bad in years.) 

Robin's entire panic attack at Starcourt, and a few more after had Steve replaying that whole incident. Reframed it a bit, and, yeah.

In retrospect that had been extremely gay, actually. 

It sat with him a lot easier than he'd thought it would. Partially because of Robin, but mostly because that's just who he was.

Stranger things had happened to Steve and this one didn't want to kill, maim or otherwise eat him, so it got filed under 'interesting facts he should never tell his parents if he wanted to keep his trust fund' and then he went about his day. 

(Or he tried too, anyways.

It caught up to him when Eddie and Robin somehow figured out the other was queer and dragged him along to some bar Eddie had a standing invitation at, with demands for Steve to do what he did best.

Babysit.

Their magical trip was utterly destroyed when Brad Handly happened to be the very same bartender who had given Eddie the invite.

 Considering Brad's immediate bark of laughter followed by a hug and introducing himself as "Steve's gay awakening", Steve ended up having to speedrun through Eddie and Robin both having a crisis for him.

It didn't help that Steve had politely, and laughingly, corrected Brad with a casual; 

"Pretty sure that was Tommy man, but if it helps I think that tongue of yours gave Matt Burdon a crisis."

--which ended up with him answering a lot more gay sex questions with Brad than he cared too. 

At least he, through Brad, was able to help Robin connect to some local lesbians and--after a second crisis from Eddie regarding how Steve managed to have more sex than "the resident town freak and guy who actually knew he was gay, Steve!"-- even helped Eddie out by catching the metalheads tongue with his mouth later that evening.

The last one landed him a boyfriend, trust fund be damned.) 

[linkemon]

First meeting headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Venti

✧ He is very likely to be found in a bar. Angel's Share is a place where he stays much more often than he should. Mainly because one bottle of wine is not enough.

✧ Your first meeting would be there. Tired after your trip to Mondstadt, you wanted to spend some time in the famous tavern. Even if you don't drink alcohol, the bartender Diluc also offers drinks without it. And Venti himself would be completely drunk, you can be sure of that.

✧ At first you didn't feel like interacting with him. He seemed very pushy. He began telling strange stories, most of which sounded like complete nonsense. How were you supposed to know what had happened hundreds of years ago? You didn't last long as you made your way out.

✧ But then the stranger announced that he would give a concert. You were about to leave when you heard a beautiful melody. The slightly drunk voice spoiled the effect a bit but you felt enchanted. Lyre seemed to dance at the stranger's touch.

✧ All the guests in the tavern were stunned. When the song ended, they clapped happily and some even whistled. They asked him to play again. He agreed on the condition that he would get another bottle of wine. You decided to stay and listen to him.

✧ Standing on the table, he introduced himself as the bard Venti, then almost fell off, but someone in the crowd held him before the fall. He cleared his throat and exclaimed that his next performance was dedicated to the beautiful [Reader]. Several people patted you on the back and others gave you interested looks. You felt slightly embarrassed, but stayed until the end of the concert. Then you had a few more drinks with him. It wasn't until the next day that it dawned on you that you'd never introduced yourself to him and yet he knew your name from somewhere.

Zhongli

✧ After you got a job in one of the famous and old restaurants in Liyue, you immediately got a lot of detailed instructions from older colleagues about what and how you should do.

✧ When you first picked up an order from a handsome man with a deep voice, you didn't think he was the legendary indebted customer. Especially after he praised your tea brewing technique. You learned it when you were still a child. Your village was small and usually hardly anyone knew it in the capital. And yet this man recognized where you came from only by the way you prepared the drink.

✧ You should be getting ready to serve other customers, but as soon as you were about to leave, a man named Zhongli would find a new topic to talk about. He had so much information that you listened to him with fascination. You got so caught up that the old waitress had to come over to remind you that you're still working. You have been humbly asked for forgiveness. You couldn't be angry with Zhongli, so you just said it was okay, waved your hand and walked away.

✧ It wasn't until you entered the building that you forgot to ask for the bill. You completely panicked, but the older waiters just laughed that, like another new person, you fell for it. Every single one of them went through this with their famous penniless client.

✧ Some time later someone from Fatui settled the bill, so you breathed a sigh of relief. You promised yourself that the next time you meet Zhongli, you will definitely get money from him in advance.

Ei

✧ Your first meeting was extremely strange. Mostly because you met her puppet first, and then her. You helped Aether escape the death penalty with Thoma. With a death sentence hanging over your heads, it was hard to like Raiden Shogun anyway.

✧ However, when Ei left her meditation spot to see how Inazuma had changed, you looked at her a bit differently. You imagined a haughty ruler, but it turned out that she has no idea about many things.

✧ When you said you liked dango milk too, she bought a hundred and had them delivered to you. You had to give it to all your neighbors for another week so it wouldn't go to waste. Even Aether and Paimon couldn't finish them.

✧ Enemies attacked you during your little trip. She saw that you were going to draw your sword, but she stopped your hand, saying there was no need. She crushed them herself with one slash, then went back to admiring the view.

✧ In the evening you gave up the idea to cook something to end the day. She said she absolutely couldn't cook. When you started to laugh, she gave you a murderous look, so you stopped, remembering what happened to the previous attackers. The woman just sat and watched what you and Aether were preparing for her. When you handed her the sweet soup, she took a sip and then announced that she might start leaving her lonely place more often.

[colormepurplex2]

As Fate Would Have It | 'Kismet' My Ass

↳ Producer!Yoongi x Bartender&TattooApprentice!Jungkook ⤜ Reincarnation/Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,490 ⚠️ Crass language, drinking, smoking, vaginal sex, anal sex (mm)

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

Jungkook

If it weren’t for the lack of being paid during his apprenticeship at Electric Fox Tattoo, Jungkook wouldn’t be working the bar at Chuck’s. But, as it is, the lights don’t stay on with hopes and dreams. He’s nearing the two-year mark of his apprenticeship and is hopeful he won’t need to sling drinks for much longer.

Tattooing isn’t Jungkook’s first love, but it’s the one he chose to pursue. Maybe, once upon a time, he tried following his dreams, but it always felt like something was missing. So, instead of trying to fulfill some unobtainable fantasy, he turned his sights elsewhere…something much more tangible.

“Whatcha dreamin’ ‘bout, sugar?” Jocelyn’s throaty voice snaps Jungkook out of his fugue and back to the raucous din of the pub. Jocelyn laughs, the sound all gravel and sex. “Hope it was me.” She winks at him before grabbing his hips as she slides around him to the other side of the bar.

Jungkook clears his throat and directs his attention to the man waiting patiently on the other side of the bartop, a polite smile on his face. “I’d be dreaming about her, too.” The man chuckles. “And maybe you,” he adds with a wink. “I just need another round of beers and a bottle of soju, please. Can you add it to the tab for our party?”

It’s not uncommon for large groups to gather for one occasion or another at Chuck’s. After all, it is the best place to get cheap drinks in large quantities. Jungkook glances over the man’s shoulder, accessing the room and his mental catalog of party tabs that are going on tonight.

There are only two groups this evening, though, one a bachelorette party and the other a birthday, he thinks. “The birthday party, right?”

“That’s the one!” The man flashes Jungkook a broad smile, deep dimples popping in his cheeks. “Not every day your best friend turns thirty.”

“Yeah, guess not,” Jungkook says. “It’ll be just a moment.” He moves to begin pouring a set of glasses with the beer on tap. It’s a new blend, some sort of IPA hybrid, he believes. Heard it was good, but he’s yet to try it himself.

“Thanks, man!” the guy says. He tries to gather as many glasses as he can but is short on grabbing the last few and the bottle of soju. “Um, would I be able to get a hand? If you’re not too busy.”

Jungkook looks at the handful of patrons waiting and is about to apologize to the guy when Jocelyn steps up beside him and pats him on the arm. “You take care of it, sugar. I’ll be fine servin’ these handsome gentlemen,” she tells Jungkook. However, her attention is sweeping across the men standing along the bar, the words intentionally smoky and full of dripping sweetness.

Jocelyn is all charm and Jungkook is confident she could flirt the pants off a priest if she wanted. “Thanks, Jo,” Jungkook mutters, leaving her to pander and flirt her way to hefty tips from the guys waiting to order. With her luscious, umber skin and mischief-filled light brown eyes sitting atop the tight leather mini skirt and purple lace corset she has on, he’s sure she won’t have any problems doing so.

Grabbing the extra cups of beer and the bottle of soju, Jungkook uses his hip to pop open the access door hidden in the bartop. It clicks shut behind him, and he follows the man towards a cluster of partygoers waiting on the other side of the bar.

A tingling sensation slices across the back of Jungkook’s neck, making him roll his head back to try and itch it away. It lasts only a moment, the movement of his head helping to dispel the sudden sensation, though it lingers like a phantom, sending chills over Jungkook’s arms. He tries to shake it off, putting his attention back on the man he’s following.

“I’m not getting drinks on my own next time,” the man proclaims, breaking through the conversation hanging around the table. “Had to borrow one of the bartenders. Everyone say ‘thank you’!”

A loud round of gratitudes greet Jungkook as he hands off the drinks, setting the bottle of soju off on the table once the glasses have all been taken. “It’s no problem, guys. Enjoy.”

As Jungkook turns to head back to the bar, his eyes catch on the man sitting quietly at the far side of the table. Deep brown eyes meet his through a fringe of black waves. There is something about the man that—

A hand clapping on his shoulder breaks his line of thinking and pulls him around. His gaze shifts to the owner of the hand, the man he helped.

“Thanks again, truly.”

“Sure thing.” He continues to turn back to the bar but something seeping into his periphery has him slowing his retreat. A deep, dark green tinge, the color of fresh cypress needles, bleeds in around the edges of his vision. No matter where he looks, he can’t focus on the source. “Fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Maybe I’m finally going crazy.”

Jocelyn has cleared the queue around the bar and a lull settles in as Jungkook pushes back through the divider. Long lacquered nails drag along his tattooed forearm as Jo gains his attention. “You okay, sugar? Why don’t you take another fifteen? Things are slow here, and you look like you could use it.”

Jungkook blows out a quick breath. “Sure, yeah. But, you yell if you need me, okay? I’ll just be out back.”

“Let me need you later, and we’ll call it even.” She bites her thick bottom lip and winks at him.

Despite the weird feeling he’s experiencing, Jungkook can’t help but smile at her antics. They’ve been fooling around for months now, and maybe that’s just the thing he needs tonight to get his head straight.

Jungkook isn’t even sure what’s wrong. He just suddenly started to feel out of sorts. Thankfully, the green hue has dissipated, and that tingling on the back of his neck is gone. With a heavy sigh, he pushes through the door that leads to the kitchen just as a rowdy, out-of-tune chorus begins behind him.

💞💞💞

Yoongi

“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Yoongi, Happy Birthday to you!” The singing fades, replaced by jovial whoops and a chaotic round of applause that draws most of the eyes in the pub to the table Yoongi is sitting at with his friends.

“Okay, okay,” Yoongi says, holding his hands up in front of himself. “That’s enough. Thank you, guys.”

His friends settle down, giving him good-natured claps on the back and holding up their amber-liquid-filled glasses in cheers and salutes. Yoongi plasters what he hopes is a genuine smile on his face as he holds up his own beer in salute before taking a small sip.

As far as birthdays go, this one is apparently supposed to be special. Though, Yoongi doesn’t quite understand what all the fuss is about. He doesn’t feel any different. He might as well still be twenty-nine for all the difference a year has made.

Yoongi is certain that he could have spent today, like any other day, at home, and it would have been just fine. But Namjoon insisted they go out to celebrate. Yoongi doesn’t mind, he really does love his friends. He likes to think they help keep him balanced with their extrovert natures.

“How’s that new track coming along?” Hoseok asks before flagging down a passing waitress. “Can we get another order of wings from the kitchen, please?”

“Damn, I knew I forgot something,” Namjoon adds, giving Hoseok an apologetic smile. “I think I was distracted by the eye candy behind the bar.” The whole table titters with laughter and low whistles.

“I can ask for her number for you if you want.” The waitress smirks, jutting her chin in the direction of where the scantily clad bartender is slinging drinks behind the oak bar top.

Namjoon drops an elbow on the table and rests his chin on his upturned palm, eyeing the waitress with open amusement. “As beautiful as she is, she’s not exactly the one I was talking about.”

That earns him a giggle from the waitress. “Hmm. Well, I’ll go put this order in, and if you need anything else, his name is Jungkook, and I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help you…” she trails off, her top teeth scraping over her bottom lip.

More laughter fills the space around the table as she saunters away. Yoongi sighs, trying not to groan aloud as he shifts on the hard surface of his seat. He’s used to his friends' antics, but for some reason, hearing Namjoon talk so boldly about the attractive male bartender has a surprising amount of jealousy coursing through him.

Which is completely absurd but doesn’t change the fact that as soon as Yoongi laid eyes on the man when he approached with the drinks and soju, Yoongi felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs and that the world was closing in on him; tinged in green and licking heat across the nape of his neck. The sensation lasted only a moment, but the jealousy that swept through him from seeing the man so close to Namjoon lingered.

“Sorry about that,” Hoseok says, leaning in toward Yoongi. “I was asking about your latest track. How’s that going?”

Yoongi presses his lips into a thin line, trying to concentrate on his friend. He gratefully accepts the small measure of soju that Seokjin pours for him, throwing back the shot and finishing off his beer in quick succession. Hoseok waits patiently, and Yoongi can feel his friend's eyes flicking over his face as he does so.

Finally, unable to stall any longer, Yoongi opens his mouth to speak. Only for the thick, bitter taste of cigar smoke to get lodged in his throat and choke him up. Namjoon reaches over and slaps him on the back a few times as Yoongi coughs through the burning sensation.

“I-it’s good. Al-almost d-done. Sorry, ex-excuse me,” Yoongi wheezes out, pushing back from the table. “I’ll be right b-back.”

💞💞💞

Jungkook

“Man, fuck off with that,” Jungkook coughs, waving a hand in the air to dispel the thick grey-blue cloud of smoke that Taehyung just released into the air. There is already the astringent taste of alcohol burning the back of his tongue, though he hasn’t consumed a single drop, and the last thing he needs is something else to clog his throat.

“Come on, I’m celebrating!” Taehyung pulls another drag from the thinly rolled cigar of tobacco.

As much as Jungkook loves his friend, he doesn’t care for the finger cigar he’s puffing away on. “Whatever happened to celebrating with champagne? Or, you know, just something less stinky.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but stubs out the cigar on the outer brick wall in the alley behind Chuck’s. He followed Jungkook out here a few minutes ago, pulling off his kitchen apron and tossing it aside. “What’s crawled up your ass and died? I literally just told you that I landed that huge contract so I can finally quit this joint, and all you can do is gripe at me about my choice of celebratory treat?”

Jungkook puffs out his cheeks and kicks back one of his feet to lean against the wall Taehyung just stubbed his cigar out on. He looks up at the night sky, squinting as if he might see the stars amid all the light pollution of the city.

“Sorry, Tae. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I can’t seem to keep my head on straight tonight.” Jungkook drops his head, chin meeting his chest, and rubs at the back of his neck, fingers pushing at the neckline of his shirt.

Taehyung steps closer to Jungkook. “Since when do you like flowers?”

“What?” Jungkook asks, glancing sideways at Taehyung.

“Your tattoo,” Taehyung says.

Jungkook drops his hand and looks at the tiger lily tattoo on his arm. “I’ve had this for years. What do you mean?”

“Not that one,” Taehyung huffs before grabbing at the back of Jungkook’s shirt. “This one. Looks fresh.”

A fresh tattoo?

“A flower? I don’t have a flower on the back of my neck.” At least Jungkook doesn’t think he does. He has so many tattoos at this point that it’s possible he forgot about one. But, surely, he believes, he’d remember getting a flower besides the one on his arm.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of the back of Jungkook’s neck. “Are you sure about that?”

The picture on Taehyung’s phone has ice threading through Jungkook’s veins. A cluster of long, thin pink and coral-colored petals with soft scalloped edges in bright, vivid detail sits right at the base of his neck.

“What the fuck is that?” Jungkook exclaims, snatching Taehyung’s phone away to get a closer look. The momentary flash of tingling he felt earlier comes back to him, and that ice melts into a hot gush of magma. This could only be one thing; but—no, Jungkook shakes his head, that’s impossible…there’s no such thing. “It can’t be.”

“Can’t be what?” Taehyung asks, his attention waffling between the picture on the phone and the peek of the tattoo above the neckline of Jungkook’s shirt. “Looks like a peony to me.”

“Nothing. Forget it.” Jungkook shoves Taehyung’s phone back into his hand and kicks off from the wall. “I’ve got to get back inside. Congrats, by the way, about the contract,” he mutters.

Jungkook knows he’s being rude, leaving Taehyung hanging like that. He just can’t muster up the ability to do better right now. Not when he’s pretty certain that—no. Again, no.

It’s. Not. Possible.

Slipping back inside the restaurant brings an assault on Jungkook’s senses. The din is too loud, the smells too pungent, and the lights far too bright. It’s a short trip down the hall to the bathroom. Jungkook rushes, fearing he might sick up on his own shoes if he delays even for a second.

The impact of Jungkook’s body slamming into a person coming out of the dining room pulls him up a few feet short of the restroom. His stomach heaves, a dry cough choking its way up his throat. As he sucks in a sharp breath to regain his constitution, all Jungkook can smell is the intoxicating scent of whoever it is he bumped into. It’s a soft mixture of cologne and clean laundry, a scent Jungkook enjoys above most others.

“I’m so sorry,” the man gasps, reaching to steady Jungkook with large hands on his shoulders, but Jungkook moves away before he can make contact. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No, you’re okay. I shouldn’t have come down the hall so quickly. Sorry about that.”

“Are you okay?”

Jungkook waves a hand in the air, wanting to dispel the situation as quickly as possible. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Don’t worry about it. Excuse me.” He goes to step around the man, but a hand on his shoulder stops him once again.

Frustrated, Jungkook snaps his eyes up, a biting remark laced across the tip of his tongue. The words die there, slipping away like a smooth sip of water down his throat.

Beautiful dark eyes sitting beneath a fringe of dark hair meet his. They widen slightly, the lips below them popping open on a soundless gasp. The man from the birthday party gathering in the dining room stands before him, seeming far more familiar to him than just from the passing moment earlier.

“Do…Do I know you? I swear I've met you somewhere before,” the man says, his brows pinching in consideration.

Jungkook clears his throat, throwing up one of his shoulders in a nonchalant half-shrug. “I’m one of the bartenders. I helped your friend bring out drinks earlier.”

The man licks his lips, and Jungkook can’t help but watch the motion in utter fascination. “Right, okay.” His eyes drop to the floor, and he shakes his head before looking back up at Jungkook. “It’s just—well, it’s not that. I don’t think so, at least. I swear, I know you from somewhere else. I feel like I know…” He trails off, shaking his head again. “Never mind, sorry. I must sound completely crazy.”

Only, it’s not crazy. It’s not crazy at all. Well, yes, it is. But, not like that. Jungkook knows precisely what the man is talking about because he feels it, too. There is a resounding alarm ringing in his head, telling him exactly what this means—confirmation of what this means. Yet—no. He refuses; he’s never believed in that.

“Don’t worry about it, man.” Jungkook pointedly steps back, putting distance between himself and the man.

Jungkook watches as confusion and uncertainty cloud the man’s eyes—eyes of such a beautiful, deep, rich color that it hurts a little to think he can’t stare into them for a moment longer.

“Okay,” the man says slowly, as if he draws out the word, which will grant him precious seconds longer with Jungkook. Jungkook shares this sentiment but refuses to acknowledge it…because that’s a very dangerous line of thinking.

The man blows out a shaky breath before giving Jungkook a tight smile and moving around him toward the bathroom door. Jungkook clenches his fists by his sides, doing everything he can to resist reaching out and touching the man as he passes.

It’s such an intense and visceral feeling that Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Better the ache of pain in his mouth than focusing on the way his chest constricts watching the man disappear behind the door to the men’s room.

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls under his breath, forcing himself to turn on his heel and march back to behind the bar.

For the remaining few hours that Chuck’s is open, Jungkook loses himself in work. He avoids the birthday party, even when asked for by name. Colette, one of the waitresses, apparently offered it to the group, which only added to Jungkook’s surly attitude, though he tried not to take it out on her or anyone else. 

By the time he’s clearing down the bar with Jo, she’s picked up on his mood and has promised to make him forget all his worries. It’s a familiar routine, taking her home on the back of his bike, her body pressed against his, and her warm breath tickling across the nape of his neck as she holds on tight.

Only, tonight, he doesn’t like the feel of her breath on his neck, which still tingles if he thinks too long about it. He tolerates her body against his until he pulls up outside his apartment and kills the bike’s engine. Jocelyn is all nimble fingers and hungry lips as she keeps her promise of trying to make him forget his woes.

It works for a while, the slap of his skin against hers, the feeling of her tight cunt sucking on his cock with every snap and roll of his hips. She likes it when he’s rough, so the fist around her braids and the feral growl that rumbles in his chest has her keening loudly and meeting every one of his thrusts with enthusiasm.

Jocelyn arches her back, letting her body move under Jungkook’s will. Letting loose the handful of her hair, he grips the meat of her hips and doubles his efforts, pounding into her at a relentless, punishing pace.

Ever the eager bedmate, Jocelyn tosses her head back and looks at Jungkook over her shoulder. However, instead of her lively eyes of light mocha staring at him, all Jungkook can see is a pair of darker browns, like rich espresso. Eyes that met his just hours ago, yet ones he’s certain he’s known for longer—eyes that see into his soul.

“Jung—”

Jocelyn’s moan of his name turns into another, deeper, spell-binding sonnet.

“—kook! You have to stop before we are caught!” Those brilliant eyes meet his over a shoulder covered in layers of blue and white silk.

Jungkook laughs softly, the man hushing him for a second before they both fall into fits of quiet laughter that soon dissolve into heady moans of pleasure. “I’ll never stop. Can’t when you feel this good…when my heart sings for you so,” Jungkook groans, swiveling his hips against the warm ass pressed against his front.

Yards of silk bunch around his hips and drape over his thighs, a cooling kiss against his heated skin. The beautiful call of a swallow in the distance draws Jungkook’s attention from the man bent over and writhing on the length of his cock. The thick weave mat digging into his shins stretches out around him, meeting corner to corner of the small room.

Large, open windows look out on a garden that is quickly succumbing to the thick blanket of twilight. Lanterns hang from the exposed beams overhead, illuminating Jungkook’s hastily discarded lamellar armor and helm. A beautiful Hwajodo folding screen separates the sleeping space, where Jungkook and the man are, from the seating area, where there is a low table with an abandoned teapot and half-filled cups littering the top.

“I love you,” the man moans.

Jungkook gasps, jerking back and falling off the edge of the bed and right onto his ass. “Fucking hell!” he barks, pain smarting up his back from the sudden impact.

“You okay, sugar?” Jocelyn whips around and crawls to the edge of the bed, looking at him with bewildered concern.

Jungkook shakes his head, trying to dispel whatever the fuck that was that invaded his mind. It felt so real, like an intense wash of deja vu, only instead of fucking Jo, he was balls deep inside—

Jungkook rubs a hand over his face to ward off that thought and the erotic image it produces.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Shit.” Dropping his hand from his face, he gestures at her with it. “Turn that ass back around, I’m not done with you yet.”

Jocelyn laughs, the sound sultry and inviting. It has Jungkook’s half-hard cock kicking back to attention. He pushes up from the floor and climbs onto the bed, grabbing handfuls of her ample hips as leverage. 

The warm, silky walls of her sex welcome him back in. She moans in appreciation as he uses the grip on her hips to work her over himself. Jungkook watches with rapt attention as the thick length of his cock disappears into the snug heat of her body over and over again. He’s so wrapped up in the sensation that when her soft, rounded hips turn into firm, angular ones under his fingers, he barely notices.

Layers of silk obstruct his view, but he knows if he were to lift the fabric, he’d see a glorious ass resplendent with porcelain skin—skin untouched by others, skin that is pampered and cared for as is customary with the royal blood that pumps beneath it.

The prince, whose name is a fleeting caress across Jungkook’s mind, turns those molten brown eyes on him once more. Strands of inky black hair escape the knot on the top of the man’s head as he throws it back in ecstasy—pleasure brought to him by Jungkook.

As quick as the flash of images comes, Jungkook finds himself once again on his ass on the floor.

“What’s goin’ on with you tonight?” Jocelyn asks with a sigh, slumping to the side and staring back at him with a furrow between her brows. “If you didn’t want to fuck tonight, all you had to do was say so.” Her eyes pointedly drop to his quickly deflating erection.

If only she knew what had just happened, maybe she’d understand why his body isn’t responding how he wants it to. The all-too-real feeling of his body railing the prince lingers with confusing sensations. Jungkook feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on his head, sending icy threads down his spine; he’s all too hot and cold at the same time.

“Fuck it,” Jungkook growls. He draws his knees up and rests his elbows on them, dropping his face in his hands. Peeking between his palms, he silently curses his dick for faltering once again. Not even the prospect of Jocelyn’s wet cunt can bring him back around at this point. “Just get out.”

Jocelyn scoffs, “Whatever, asshole.” She rolls her eyes as she climbs off the bed and begins to snatch her clothes off the floor. “Knew I should never have hooked up with you to begin with. It’s always the hot ones. Why is it always the hot ones?” She’s grumbling to herself as she tugs on her clothes, and before Jungkook can even think of apologizing, she’s gone, his apartment door slamming shut in her wake.

After a quick wipe down with a washcloth in his bathroom, Jungkook flops onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling, not bothering to put clothes on. His thoughts are far too scattered and incomplete, making his head ache too much to do more than sulk.

“What the fuck is going on with me?” he whispers into his quiet room, the words laced with anguish and the subtlest hint of dread—because, deep down…he knows exactly what’s happening.

💞💞💞

Yoongi

The beautiful warrior places featherlite kisses along Yoongi’s shoulder, the blue and white silk gujangbok long since discarded. As much as Yoongi was worried about being caught with his lover, he was more concerned about trying to explain the cum and dirt stains on his ceremonial garb.

“I should go,” Yoongi whispers into the quiet of the evening air. The swallows have nested for the night, leaving just the chittering of insects and other dark-dwelling nightlife.

More kisses nestle along Yoongi’s throat, slowly stirring his passion to life once more. “Stay with me. I will sing for you, but only if you stay.”

Yoongi sighs, turning over onto his back so he can look up at the exquisite being looming over him. Shiny black hair, tendrils hanging loose from where they’ve escaped the knot at the back of his head, and liquid brown eyes that frame a straight nose; he is absolutely breathtaking.

Even with the lamps casting harsh shadows across his face, his lover is still the most strikingly handsome man Yoongi has ever laid eyes on. Yoongi considers himself blessed with the luck of a thousand star wishes to have found him.

“I wish I could. But, I have a duty to fulfill.”

The man sighs, pulling back from the trail of kisses he was leaving across Yoongi’s chest. “Your duty is to me. I am your—”

“You are my sun, my moon, my stars…everything to me. And I swear it now, by the gods, that I will have you. But…”

“But, you were a prince before you were mine. I know this. I accept this. I just wish I did not have to share you with the rest of the world.”

“Soon. Soon, my heart, you will not have to share me. As soon as the succession—”

Yoongi wakes with a start, his alarm blaring and his heart aching in his chest as the dream slips away with the fog of sleep. Before silencing his alarm, he presses the tips of his fingers against his mouth, trailing them along his jaw and down his throat, following the line where he swears he can still feel pouty lips lingering. It felt so real, more a memory than a dream.

But, that’s impossible, considering he’s certain that dream took place somewhere in the past. The Joseon Dynasty, if the setting was any indicator. And, he’s certainly no royal prince. But, perhaps the most prominent indicator is the fact that the other man in the dream was the same one from the bar last night. A man he’s certain he’s never met before, despite feeling like he was coming together with an old friend—or lover?

Letting out a long breath, Yoongi sits up in bed and shoves a hand through his hair. Clearly, his attraction to the bartender last night infiltrated his dreams. Not that he could help it, truly. In fact, Yoongi is reasonably sure most people who have laid eyes on him—Jungkook, the waitress said was his name—probably dream about him, as well. Him or the other bartender, definitely. She’s attractive but didn’t draw Yoongi in the way Jungkook did.

It doesn’t take Yoongi long to get ready for his daily gym session with Namjoon. They keep each other accountable. Yoongi makes sure Namjoon works out, and Namjoon makes sure Yoongi gets out of his condo; otherwise, it would be weeks at a time before Yoongi ventured out of his safe space.

Working from home has its perks, yes. But it’s also led to some concerns from his friends. Yoongi has never been much of a party person, preferring the comfort of his own home to society's chaotic expectations.

Even if Yoongi only goes as far as the complex’s gym, it’s still considered a win in Namjoon’s book. Yoongi knows this as the delight that graces Namjoon’s face when he walks into the gym says it all.

“Ready to have some fun?”

Yoongi suppresses a wince. He’s not sure he would include the gym and the word fun in the same context. Especially not when he’s still feeling a bit off-kilter about his dream. There’s a sensation of discombobulation that he can’t see to shake from it, like there is something more that the dream was trying to tell him other than that he was horny for some random bartender.

Going through the motions of the workout helps. The breakdown of his muscles and the fatigue that wanes his energy pull Yoongi’s focus to a singular, thready point: just making it through the next set of reps.

“...eighteen, nineteen, twenty.” Yoongi groans, his arms trembling as he reracks the bench press bar. Sweat glistens across his forehead and soaks his unruly mop of hair. His entire body is sticky with it, causing his shirt to cling to his chest as he sits up. “I’m going to hit the sauna before a shower,” he tells Namjoon.

Namjoon executes a perfect squat, the last of many he’s performed in the last hour of their workout, before lowering the set of dumbbells in his hands. “I’ll join you in a second once I get these put away and wiped down.”

“Okay.”

Yoongi already cleaned his equipment with a sanitizing wipe, so he leaves Namjoon to it and makes his way toward the locker rooms. The showers are separate, but the sauna is a shared space that requires towels or robes at all times.

After tugging off his sodden clothes and throwing them in the mesh net laundry bag he keeps in his designated locker, which has his condo number on it, he grabs a fresh towel from the complimentary towel bin.

The complex that Yoongi and Namjoon live in is gated and fairly high-end, with exclusive amenities for the residents, including an Olympic-sized pool, tennis courts, a dog park, the gym and sauna, and even full-scale laundry services.

As he makes his way to the sauna, towel firmly secured around his hips, Yoongi hums the beat of the latest track he’s working on. Once a reasonably successful rapper, after too many years of anxiety-inducing sold-out stadium tours and endless press interactions, he decided to replace his mic with a channel mixer. Being a producer is far more his style, letting him live outside of the spotlight while still pursuing his passion for music.

“What the fuck, man!?” Namjoon’s outburst startles Yoongi, dragging him from his internal scrutinizing of the musical track on repeat in his brain. “When the hell were you going to tell me you got another tattoo?”

Yoongi stares blankly up at Namjoon as his friend plops onto the bench beside him in the sauna. “What are you squawking about?”

“The tattoo!” Namjoon practically shouts, gesturing animatedly at Yoongi’s back. “The fucking tattoo!”

Confusion etches its way across Yoongi’s face. “Another tattoo? Namjoon, I just have the one…same as you.”

“Hey, don’t play me like I’m crazy, Yoongi! I can plainly see it right there.” Namjoon prods a finger just below the top center of Yoongi’s back. “Unless it’s one of those fake stamp ones, and you’re just trying to fuck with me.”

Yoongi leans forward and swats away Namjoon’s hand. “Seriously. I haven’t gotten a new tattoo.”

Namjoon sits there for a second, his eyes boring into the spot he was just poking at. “Oh my…oh my fucking hell! Yoongi, do you know what this means?!”

Before Yoongi can respond, Namjoon grabs him by the wrist and begins to tug him out of the sauna. The sudden movement nearly makes Yoongi lose his towel, only keeping it up with a quick fist around the tucked knot at his hip.

“Slow down,” Yoongi grouches, trying to pull his arm from Namjoon’s grasp.

“No can do, not until you see what I’m talking about.”

True to his word, Namjoon doesn’t stop tugging Yoongi along until they’re both in the men’s designated locker room and in front of a set of mirrors. Namjoon urges Yoongi to turn his back toward one mirror and then points dramatically to another across the way.

Yoongi narrows his eyes at his friend, but with another exaggerated gesture from Namjoon, Yoongi lets his gaze follow the line of sight. His stomach drops as soon as he gets a clear view of his back.

Sitting at the juncture where his neck and back meet is what appears to be a fist-sized tattoo—just as Namjoon said. A cluster of long, thin pink and coral-colored petals with soft scalloped edges in bright, vivid detail stands in stark contrast to his pale skin and dark hair.

“What…the…fuck.”

“It can only mean one thing,” Namjoon echoes Yoongi’s own internal realization.

Yoongi swallows hard, chin dipping in a jerky nod. He reaches back over his shoulder and brushes the tips of his fingers over the mark. “Soulmate,” he whispers.

And Yoongi knows, without a doubt, who.

💞💞💞

Jungkook

After the disaster of last night, Jungkook dreads facing Jo at work so soon. But he can’t afford to call out. So, whether he likes it or not, he shows up at Chuck’s on time and goes about the hour-long prep process before the pub opens for the evening.

Thankfully, Jocelyn seems to be ignoring him as much as he’s ignoring her. Which only hurts a little because he typically enjoys her light-hearted ribbing, and it helps him get in the zone before the chaos of the night begins.

“Hey, JK,” Jocelyn’s voice startles him. He turns from where he’s elbow-deep in restocking one of the coolers they keep garnishes in and raises a brow in question. “Some guy is out front asking for you.” 

“Some guy?” he asks.

Her shoulders kick up in a nonchalant shrug, making the tight hot-pink minidress she’s wearing ride up her thighs. “I don’t know, just some guy.”

She disappears into the kitchen before he can inquire further. “Well, okay,” he mutters to himself. Jungkook shoves the rest of the containers into the cooler and closes the lid. He grabs a handtowel on his way out from behind the bar, drying off his hands before draping it over one of his shoulders. Jungkook regrets walking to the host stand as soon as the person standing there comes into view. “Fucking hell.”

“Um, hi.”

“What do you want?”

Jungkook wishes he could take back the snappy words as soon as they’re out. The flash of hurt on the guy's face is like a kick in the gut, but there is no way Jungkook can let himself entertain a cordial conversation with this man.

The tip of a pink tongue swipes over lips that Jungkook knows would look so beautiful wrapped around his—

“I, uh, I…this is going to sound—it’s just that last night…well, you may not remember, but we ran into each other last night. Outside the bathroom.” The man nods in the general direction of the hall where the bathrooms are.

Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest. “I remember.”

“Oh,” the man brightens marginally. “Well, I said last night that you seemed familiar…and I think I know why. Or, I don’t think…I do know why. You’re my—”

“Look, man, I don’t know what you think you know. But you’ve got it all wrong, okay?”

There is evident confusion clouding the man’s eyes. “Are you—no, I’m certain of this. I know what’s happening,” he says, hand automatically going to the back of his neck. The action makes Jungkook’s own neck prickle, drawing awareness to what he knows is beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. “I’ve read The Kismet Theory. All the signs, there is no denying this.”

“The hell there isn’t. There’s no such thing. Just a bunch of fairytale nonsense,” Jungkook scoffs, forcing himself to turn away from the man, intent on returning to work. “Kismet, my ass.”

“Please, no.” The words echo in Jungkook’s ears, made even more prominent by the hand that lands on bare skin of his forearm. It’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket, there is a feeling of clarity and rightness that settles along his body and psyche with that one simple, skin-on-skin touch.

Jungkook doesn’t like the way his stomach plummets when the man drops his hand away just as quickly. The sudden bereft feeling is troubling. There’s no reason he should feel that way about a stranger's touch. Only he knows why it does…and, it seems, so does the guy now staring at him with an open expression of awe.

There is no more denying it, no more fighting it…he’s not sure why he even tried to begin with; it was only delaying the inevitable and torturing himself for no reason. How silly, he thinks, to try and fight fate…only, it can’t be that simple.

“W-what’s your name?” Jungkook asks through quivering lips.

The man smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing Jungkook has ever seen. He hates he’ll be the reason that it disappears. “Yoongi. My name is Yoongi.”

“Well, sorry, Yoongi.” It takes every ounce of willpower Jungkook holds in his body to force out the next words. He never asked for this, never desired it…after all, who wants to acknowledge the fact that their life is predestined and every choice they make is not their own? “But, I don’t believe in soulmates.”

The fresh lie tastes bitter on his tongue, but there’s no way he can allow the string of fate to bind his hands…nor his heart.

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-07-16 ColorMePurplex2

[jjurassicxslytherdor]

hi there! this is gonna be my first tumblr story so I hope you enjoy it. I have other works on other apps but I will not be sharing that haha.

I’m gonna start with just some y/n drabble that I have muse for. I’m open to notes and for requests ;)

Title: After Life

Warnings: mentions of death

Tags: x reader, fantasy, stranger things, eddie munson

Fandom: stranger things

Characters: eddie munson x reader

An old phonebook. An old, dusty, water damaged phonebook sat at your fingertips. It had to be ancient- no one used these things anymore. The world had Google! Or yellowpages even! Although, that seemed a bit outdated as well. The year was 2023. You flipped through the old pages which made a crunching sound each time they were turned. You knew it was a shot in the dark, but you also couldn’t help but be curious as to what possible outcomes there could be from this experiment. Your finger traced down the words of the book until they landed on one name: Eddie Munson. The section was equipped with his phone number and address. There had been other words next to the name, possibly some numbers, but they had vanished with the time and with the weathering of the book. You jotted down the name and address and put the book back on the shelf.

You gave it some time before deciding to act. You had almost forgotten about your soon to be pen pal when you stumbled upon the note you had taken. You figured it was a sign. You grabbed a pen and some paper and began writing.

Eddie,

I know you don’t know who I am… I don’t even know who you are… but I was hoping to find a penpal. What better way to do so then randomly!

This was starting to feel strange… maybe it wasn't such a good idea… he could be an old man for all you knew! Something inside you urged to continue anyways…

Feel free to reply, but do not feel pressured to. My address will be attached as the return address. My name is Y/n L/n. I live in the US.

It's good to not be super specific in cases like this.

I figured this could be a judgment free zone. I had to get this out to someone, and there aren’t many people here who would take the time to listen to my problems. I don’t have any friends… at least not anymore. Not since I decided I liked my life better when I was being true to myself. My friends didn't end up liking the me I chose to be. Have you ever felt like an outcast?

Yours truly,

Is that too forward?

Your humble penpal, Y/n.

Within the next day or so, the letter was signed, sealed, and delivered so to speak. Days went by, you figured it had gotten lost or that the receiver simply tore it up. You had no idea of the journey this little envelope took.

The afterlife is a concept which not many people can fully agree upon. It has been portrayed many different ways throughout the years. In this case, the afterlife was a blue tinted village that lay underground. Tunnels connected thousands of villages and the blue light extended through them all. The light didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere in particular. It just washed over the village and its residence like a filter. Eddie sat at a bar, tended by an older man who loved nothing more than serving drinks. He poured a glass and handed it off to the curly haired man. Eddie still wore his green vest and a bandana around his head. It wasn’t because he had to. He had died in it after all. But he chose to keep it on. He feared he would be unrecognizable without it. Like if his friends ever joined him, not for a long while he hoped, they would be able to recognize him instantly. A buzzing sound was heard in Eddie's ear as a small creature appeared.

“Mail for the deceased.” It said in a gravelly but high pitched voice. He handed an envelope to Eddie and one to the bartender. The bartender gently laughed.

“She’s sent another one… she still thinks about me.” He said. It was from his wife who had outlived him. It had been nearly 10 years, but she never failed to write him love letters. The postal service was funny like that. Sometimes, mail is sent to the afterlife. If you’ve ever wondered where that Amazon package was lost… it may have ended up in the hands of the deceased. Boy do they love getting gifts like that.

Eddie had only ever gotten one letter. It was one written by his uncle as a final goodbye. Eddie read it and couldn’t bear going back to see him. He had the option- to haunt somewhere- but he knew he would be much happier moving on. He could see his friends in the afterlife eventually anyways. He didn’t recognize the name on the envelope. “Who is it from, boy? You've been dead for a while now…” He started, before he remembered that time worked differently there. Though Eddie had been dead for nearly 20 years, he’d only been in the afterlife for about 10.

“I don’t know…” He said. He looked into the other room where a stage was set up. He still played music in the afterlife. He had received a copy of his guitar and continued to play it. Sometimes, the afterlife reminded him of the Upside Down. But it was much calmer. No one was watching. He kept on his merry way. An eternity in a happy place.

He ripped open the envelope and read its contents. “It's just… someone who wants to be a penpal.” He said. He laughed softly. “Poor thing…” he read the words.

Have you ever felt like an outcast?

He shifted in his seat. Of course he had! He was boiling with advice he could give to this person! Advice he could give to you!

“But we can’t write back to them, can we?” He shrugged it off. The bartender was about to chuckle and agree with him. However instead he stopped in the middle of cleaning a glass and tilted his head.

“Well… I don’t believe I’ve ever tried.” He said. “By all means, boy! Write back! If you can communicate across planes… then I could talk to my wife! My Carol!” he said. He didn’t want to try the experiment out himself because… well… because what if it did work? It might do Carol more harm than good… but this new penpal of Eddie’s… they had no idea that he was dead. They would never suspect it. Eddie could give his advice and not have to cause a disruption between life and what comes next!

He bolted out of his bar stool and ran to a room he called his own. He pulled out paper and a pen and began writing.

To be continued

[marvelatthetwilight]

Crying in the Club - 2nd April 2022

Beefy bouncer Bucky x female reader

Part of my Birthday Challenge - Masterlist

“I’ll be right back, just gonna get another drink.” You shout across to your friend Emma and she nods absentmindedly, all her focus being spent on dancing as the alcohol floods her system.

You can’t help but laugh to yourself, pushing past the hoards of guys unable to keep their eyes off of her. This was your life, you were so used to it by this point that it almost didn't phase you. Almost.

Eyeing up the cocktail menu behind the bar you manage to catch the eye of a bartender and quickly make a decision.

"Sex on the beach please!" The alcohol already in your veins has you laughing childishly at your own order, calling the attention of the man to your left, who eyes you with a hunger that is completely lost on you in your tipsy state. He licks his lips and leans in closer.

"We could just leave and I can offer you that right now, my car is out the back, the beach is only 20 minutes away." He whispers into your ear, the thick smell of whisky clouding your senses.

I move to pull away from him but your legs are unsteady beneath you and I end up stumbling towards him instead. He wraps an arm around your waist and leans in again.

"Woah there gorgeous, you could just ask, don't have to throw yourself at me, eh?" He winks at you and gently begins tugging you towards the exit.

"No, no thank you, I'm here with a friend, I better get back to her..." Pulling away from him, you gesture towards Emma on the dancefloor, who had now chosen one of her many admirers, dancing close to him in the centre of the dancefloor.

"Looks like your friend is busy darling." He smirks, then pulls you back towards the exit. “I’m John.”

"No, I don't want to thanks. I'm just gonna head back to the b-..." you make to pull away, making desperate eyes at anyone who will make eye contact, but the bar staff are doing their job and everyone is too drunk to notice your subtle looks.

"Not so fast sweetheart. You don't get to dress like that, and look at me with those eyes and just walk out on me." He yanks you back towards him and drags you towards the exit again.

“We’ll have a good time, I promise, you won’t ever want to leave…” the hand resting on your hip gives a squeeze and he presses a disgusting wet kiss to your neck, it sends shivers down your spine, but not for the reason he thinks and he preens in excitement. “Look at you reacting to me already.”

Before he can pull you through the door into the brisk New York night, a figure blocks his path. Pulling away from his fingers gripping at your chin, you look up, and up, until you meet the kind eyes of the new terrifying stranger.

“What are you doing idiot, we’re trying to leave?” John spits towards the stranger, his bravado quickly disappearing when the door opens ahead of you, the streetlights behind him emphasising just how big he is. John visibly gulps.

“I can see that.” The stranger eyes you carefully. “Are you ok doll? Do you know this man?”

John’s grip on you tightens, threatening you to say the right thing, to keep to his story.

“She’s my girl bud, so if you’d just let us get home…”

Your eyes widen in panic, but the strangers eyes do not leave yours and he gestures for you to speak.

“No, I don’t know him and he is making me leave with him, please help.” Your voice feels like a whisper, but it is clearly heard over the thumping music from behind.

“You little b-“ before John can finish his sentence, the stranger grabs him by the collar of his shirt and holds him against the wall. John’s legs flail underneath him, gripping onto the strangers muscular arms desperately.

“That’s no way to talk about a lady.” The stranger growls, holding John higher so he’s at least a foot off the ground. “Apologise.” He demands.

John’s eyes flicker from the stranger’s to yours, as you stand to the side watching helplessly, trying to pull your flimsy jacket around your body. When John doesn’t speak, the stranger moves his hand from the collar of John’s shirt to his throat and John makes a panicked gargle before his feeble apology. “Sorry!” He squeaks.

The stranger doesn’t seem happy with the response, but you’ve had enough, you take one last look at John, deciding that you were safe as long as the stranger had him, and you run. Back through the club in search of Emma.

She’s gone. Not even a text to say that she’s left, just gone. Poof.

The revelation pushes you over the edge, and as the bathroom door closes behind you, the avalanche of tears begins, until you are slouched against the door in a blubbery mess.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you hear a knock at the door. Holding your breath so the sobs aren’t as obvious you pause, waiting to see what happens. A knock again before a familiar voice.

“Doll? Are you ok?” The stranger, although his voice is gentler, kinder. “The bastard is gone, police have taken him away, I made a statement for you, but they want to know if you want to make any charges. I said I would find you and -“ he pauses as you slowly open the door, looking up at him through the small gap you make.

The familiar kind eyes find yours immediately, and somehow soften as he searches your face, seeing the marks of tears through your makeup and the redness of your eyes. “You’ve been crying.”

Even in your sad state you can't help but roll your eyes. "Obviously." You mutter, causing the stranger to flush pink and laugh.

"Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. Can we start again?" He holds out his hand through the gap in the door. "I'm Bucky."

Every part of your mind was screaming at you to close the door on him and phone Emma, your mum, the police, anyone who could help. But something in his eyes has you trusting him. He saved you once before. Narrowing your eyes to observe him once more, you open the door wider and hold out your hand to his, giving him your name. He repeats it, sending your stomach into somersaults.

"Do you make it your mission to save damsels in distress?" You slide back down the wall to the seat you had made on the floor, Bucky props the door open on a wedge, sliding down to sit beside you.

"Only the pretty ones." He smiles at you, then immediately panics at the startled look on your face. "That was stupid, I'm so sorry. Ignore me, please."

You shake your head, causing a single tear to slip down your face. "Not stupid at all, I just...your kindness is a bit of shock after everything back there." Gesturing back towards the dancefloor, a shiver runs through you and your eyes tear up again.

"Hey." Bucky says softly, lifting an arm and motioning for you to come closer. "Come here." You lean into him, breathing in the heavy woody scent from his shirt, trying to calm your breathing.

"Surely this ruins your scary bouncer persona if anyone were to walk in?" You whisper against his shirt, and he laughs, the vibrations of his chuckles shaking your frame.

"I make it my mission that a club isn't a place where you cry. It should be a place to be free, to be happy, so, that's what I'm doing." He rests his hand on your shoulder and gives you a little quick squeeze. "Right. That's it. No more crying in the club."

"Just like that?" You laugh at his sudden confidence to cheer you up. "How do I just do that?"

"I have a plan."

Bucky stands up, winking at you before offering a hand down to you to help you stand to join him. He leans down, his breath tickling at your ear.

"Come on, let me show you how your night should have ended."

Marvel Taglist:

@arethosepotatoes @immelissaaa @gothkitteh @ambeen @wolfers-stufff

Join my Marvel taglist here.

[softholand]

pot valiant - t.h

pairing: bartender!tom x reader

summary: pot-valiant, definition; bold or courageous under the influence of alcoholic drink

warnings: drinking, swearing, smut, dom!tom

words: 4.3k

a/n: i did it!!! bartender!tom was always present in my mind and after that picture (thanks paddy!!) i couldn’t help myself ;))) i hope you guys like this and please let me know what you think <3 enjoy!!

Two weeks, three days, 5 hours, and 22 seconds. That was the time your best friend Briana gave you to mourn your last failed relationship. Once that time had passed, she broke into your house, made you take a much necessary shower, forcing you to shave and wash your hair, while she took care of the mess that was your house. Plastic food containers and cans of beer and Coca-Cola littered both the kitchen and the living room floor, making the house smell like a garbage can.

“Glad to see you’re still alive!” Briana cheered after you got out of the shower, wearing your fluffy robe. “I am but barely. Wow, what did you do to my house?” You asked, being met with a completely different scenario from the one you left.

“I just put out the trash, y/n! Something you should have done before.” Briana scolded you, making you roll your eyes. “Should have waited and put me out too, since I feel like trash!” You groaned, flopping down on your sofa.

“Hey, no, no, no! Get up, y/n! We’re going out!” Your best friend announced, before trying to make you stand. “Noooo, please, Bri! I’ll do anything you want, but that!” You pleaded, but it was of no use. “I don’t wanna hear it, y/n! I didn’t come here to clean your house, I came to take you out of here and that’s what I’m gonna do.” Briana stated, taking your hands.

“Bri, I love you, but please let me stay just a little longer, I’m not ready for the outside world yet.” You groaned, trying your best to convince your best friend. “y/n, I love you too, that’s why I’m here! I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore! Yeah, what Tyler did to you was fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop living your life because of it.” Briana exclaimed.

“I know, Bri! I know! It’s just… hard for me to wrap my head around the fact he ditched me after all this time and that I’m single now.” You sighed, starting to feel emotional. At that, Briana pulled you closer and wrapped her arms around you, engulfing you in one of her best hugs. “I’m sorry, y/n! I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” Bri apologized, making you chuckle through your tears. “It’s okay, Bri! It’s not your fault, really. I’m just… a mess!” You laughed, drying your face with the robe sleeves.

“One drink. We get one drink and if you still don’t wanna stay after that, we leave. I promise!” Your friend offered, with hopeful eyes. “Fine! One drink!” You sighed, to which she squealed. “Yes! Thank you, y/n! You’re not gonna regret it! I’ve found this new club, it opened just a couple of weeks ago. You’re gonna love it!” She grinned. “Now, go put on your best outfit, we’re going out!” Briana squealed, making you laugh at her excitement.

About an hour later and after a whole lot of makeup and trying on clothes, Briana finally decided you were done with what she called: a Cinderella transformation. Of course, you laughed at her choice of words, and to irritate your friend, even more, you asked if you also should be back at midnight. She gave you the middle finger, before giving up and joining you in laughter.

After a quick cab ride, that could be done by feet, not with the heels you two were wearing though, you and Briana were at the new club she talked about. Once inside, you had to admit your best friend was right. The place looked like a mix of everything you enjoyed, the walls were coated in a beautiful shade of red, while the lounge area was filled with dark green sofas. Different from the other places you had been to, the bar on this one was positioned right in the middle, with bar stools in that same dark green velvet texture, rounding the space. The dim light that filled the space gave a mysterious/sensual vibe, something you were also a fan of.

Briana immediately dragged you to the bar, waiting patiently for one of the many bartenders. While she made her request, you took the time to scan the place, noting some artsy bits that complemented the space. “What can I get you?” A smooth masculine voice took you out of your daze, making you avert your attention to him. Right in front of you, a gorgeous boy with hazel eyes and chocolatey brown curls grinned at you, waiting for your answer. What was even the question?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” You apologized, making his smile grow even more. “I asked what can I get you tonight, darling?” He asked, making you smile with the nickname. “Oh, uh… a daiquiri, please!” You finally said, not being able to avert his gaze. “Good choice! I’ll be right back, girls!” He smirked, before going to the enormous wall of beverages behind him.

Once he was out of earshot, Briana lightly kicked your bare leg, getting your attention. “Isn’t he hot?” She mouthed, making you roll your eyes. “Really, Bri? Already?” Shaking your head, you went back to looking at your surroundings. “Oh, c’mon y/n! A woman has to eat!” Briana joked, making you both burst out laughing.

Seconds later, hot guy was back, this time with two cocktail shakers in his hands. Like every bartender in the world, he made his presentation while pouring the ingredients into the containers, making sure to really flex his arms while shaking it. Not that you noticed.

With two glasses in front of you, he poured the drinks in, doing the finishing touches before serving them to you. “Two pretty drinks for two pretty ladies, enjoy!” He smirked, before going back to his business. “Oh God, he only gets better!” Briana jokingly fanned herself, making you laugh. “He’s just doing his job, Bri! How many times do you think he used that one?” You asked your friend, who rolled her eyes at you. “You’re no fun!” She groaned, putting her tongue out.

Briana was only halfway through her Cosmopolitan when one of her favorite songs started to play. She made everything in her power to make you go with her but you denied her offer, stating you were fine watching her from the bar. With her drink in her hands, she made her way into the dance floor, purposely shaking her booty at you, which made you laugh and almost choke on your barely touched drink.

“Not into dancing?” The same voice from minutes ago asked, startling you. “Oh, no! Not today, at least!” You shrugged, offering him a smile. “So, what brought you and your friend here? I’m Tom, by the way!” He asked, cleaning the surface in front of him, making the watch he wore catch the fluorescent lights of the club. “y/n! And to be honest, she dragged me here.” You told him, giving into their usual small talks. “Wanna talk about it? I’m a pretty damn good listener!” He offered you with a smile.

You took a deep breath, asking yourself if it was really a good idea to share a part of your life with a stranger, and since you weren’t going to step foot on the dance floor, you thought this was the next most reasonable thing to do. Right? “Well, I was into a two-year relationship that ended a couple of weeks ago, and apparently staying inside your house, eating takeout food, and crying over stupid romantic movies is not a very healthy thing to do, so today she went to my house and here I am.” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink.

Once you looked at Tom, he gave you a pitiful look, to which you shrugged. “That’s not even the worst part though.” You said, the alcohol in your system already making the choices for you. “Instead of calling me or sending me a text asking to talk, you know, like a normal person, he invited me to his parents’ tenth-anniversary party and broke up with me in front of his whole family, claiming I wasn’t what he wanted in a relationship anymore.” With a raise of your glass, you finished your sad story, downing the rest of your daiquiri.

“Damn, what a dick!” Tom breathed after a couple of seconds, making you chuckle. “Oh, well! Cheers to single life, I guess…” You said, raising your now empty glass. “Need a refill?” He asked, pointing to the glass on your hands. “Please!” You huffed, before thanking him. “What will it be now?” Tom smirked, seeing your thinky face. “I don’t know, something strong.” He nodded, giving you two thumbs-ups, before going back to the wall to collect the ingredients.

Once the song ended, Briana came back to you and you two chatted until Tom came back with your drink, waiting for your approval. “It’s good! I like it! Thanks, Tom!” You smiled, locking eyes with him. “Do you want a refill too, darling?” He asked Briana, to which she said a beer would be fine. Once he was off, you felt your best friend's eyes burning a hole in your skull. “What?” You asked, impatiently. “We’re already on a name basis then?” Briana smirked, making you roll your eyes at her. “Yeah, I mean, he introduced himself, what did you want me to do?” You snapped and that was enough to her smirk double in size. “Okay, girl! You sure you don’t want to go home then?” She asked you for what felt like the fifth time. “Yes, Bri! I’m good! I promise!” You assured your best friend before she once again was off to the dance floor.

You quietly took sips of your new strawberry drink, watching from afar as your friend seemed to get her eyes on a specific guy for the night. She gave you a wink, making you roll your eyes at her antics. “She seems to be enjoying herself.” You heard Tom’s voice, turning the barstool to find him looking at you. “Yeah, she always does!” You agreed, taking another sip of your drink. “So, you’re from here?” He asked, sounding interested. “Yeah, I’m a local! You?” You said, raising your brows. “Same!” He smiled, going right to the next question.

The conversation kept going for most of the night, Tom attended some clients, while you took sips of your drinks, and once he was free, he was right back at you with another round of questions. Seeing as Briana wasn’t by your side anymore, you welcomed his company, glad at least this way you wouldn’t be left alone. “Museologist? I’ve never heard that before!” He grinned, making you chuckle. “Yeah, it’s not very common. Basically what I do is investigate and preserve material cultural stuff, like paintings, sculptures or constructions and immaterial, such as traditions and folklore.” You answered and Tom couldn’t help but find adorable the way your eyes lit up while you talked.

Briana came back after a couple more songs, sitting by your side and asking Tom another beer. “So, found your prey?” You joked, making her laugh. “Actually, I did! See that blonde? With the samurai bun?” She pointed and you nodded once your eyes landed on him. “Nice, Bri!” You complemented, giving her a playful high five. “Right? And he’s so sweet and smart and funny! He even asked me if I wanted to go to his house.” She blurted, seemingly disappointed. “And?” You asked, not getting why she reacted that way. “Oh, no! I’m not leaving you. I dragged you here so I’m taking you home.” Briana exclaimed, to which you rolled your eyes. “Bri, I’m totally able to call a cab and go home by myself. I’m fine, I promise! You can go with Mr. Samurai bun if you want.” You assured her, seeing her eyes widen. “No, y/n/n! I promised you!” She protested, making you groan. “I’m fine, Bri! Go with him!” Once again, you insisted. “Are you sure?” She asked and you had to laugh at her. “I’m not a child, Bri! Now go, he’s not going to wait all night!” You teased, getting a hug and a kiss on the cheek from your friend before she was off.

“Lost your friend?” Tom asked once he was back from his bartender duties. “Yeah, it's just me now and I think I’ll actually call it a night and go home.” You told him, making him frown. “Hey, not to sound creepy or anything but are you going by yourself? Because that’s not very safe and my shift ends in like ten minutes. If you want, I can accompany you.” With hopeful eyes, the boy in front of you smiled, making your heart flutter just a tiny bit. You thought about leaving a stranger accompanied you home, you really did, but something in your gut told you it was fine, Tom was a good guy and would never do anything to harm you. So, you went with it. “Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You smiled and ten minutes later, you were both leaving the club, at 3:30 in the morning.

Tom offered to call a cab but seeing as your house was only a few minutes away, you asked if it was okay for him that you guys walked. He agreed and with the moon illuminating your steps, the pair of you made your way into the almost silent streets. You guys kept talking and occasionally your hands would brush on one another, which caused little butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Once in front of your apartment building, you stopped, having no idea what to do next, since you were in a relationship for the last two years.

“It was nice meeting and talking to you, Tom!” You said, opting for the easiest way out. “Yeah, the feeling is mutual, y/n!” He answered, stuffing both of his hands in his pockets. “Thank you for… listening.” You mumbled, making him chuckle. “Of course! Whenever you need!” He smiled, not moving a muscle. “I’ll see you around, then. Bye!” With a little wave of your hand, you made your way to the door, while Tom watched you from his place. “Sure! Bye, y/n!” He exclaimed, making you smile, finally entering the building.

That’s how you found yourself going back to that same club every Friday, getting a couple of drinks while talking to Tom, then being escorted home by him. You had been doing this for almost a month now and Briana was starting to get suspicious. It was Friday again and she had just called you while you finished getting ready. “So, any plans for tonight?” She asked, already predicting your answer. “Not really, just gonna get some drinks and head home.” You said while clasping your black sandals. “Tom’s gonna bring you home again?” You sighed, already knowing where this conversation was heading. “I don’t know, Bri! If he wants to.” You looked in the mirror for the last time, before taking your bag and heading out. Once Briana finally hung up, you threw your phone into your purse, getting into the cab.

The routine was the same, you got in, spotted Tom, sat in one of the many barstools, and waited for him to approach you. “What can I get this beautiful lady today?” He joked, a smile wide on his face. Today he was wearing a simple black shirt, tight around his muscles, the watch still sat proudly on his wrist, and his curls were a little bit messier than most days. “You know you don’t have to waste your pickup lines with me, Tom.” You smiled, watching his reaction. “Okay then, what can I get this grumpy old lady today?” He smirked, making you chuckle. “A Sex On The Beach, please?!” You grinned and after a quick wink, he was off.

The rest of the night passed like magic, you didn’t even see the time pass and once you took a look at your phone, you saw that it was almost time for Tom’s shift to end, which meant it was time to head home. The chilly London air hit as soon as you stepped out of the club, making you shiver, seeing as you were only in a dress. Like the gentleman he was, Tom took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, and although you protested, saying he was going to catch a cold, he assured you he was fine with his shirt.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when the words “Do you wanna come inside?” came out of your mouth but now was definitely too late to take them back. “Oh, yeah! Sure!” Tom agreed, making you smile. The short lift ride was awkward and once you walked into your apartment, the feeling only grew. Tom stayed pretty close to the door, with both of his hands in his pockets, while you put your purse away and turned on the lights. “Welcome and sorry for the mess.” You said, going back to the living room. Tom just smiled, before saying, “You call this messy? You should see my house!” You both laughed and the tension was back in the air. “Do you want anything? Water, wine, beer?” You offered, taking off your shoes and his jacket, putting the both away. “Water would be good.” He said and you quickly made your way to the kitchen, shaking your head to try and get rid of some very intrusive thoughts.

“Thanks!” He smiled, taking the glass from your hands, while your eyes kept focused on his arm and the prominent veins and the way his shirt was almost being ripped by his bicep. “y/n? You here?” Tom’s voice brought you back, making your face grow hot with the knowledge you got caught. “Yes, sorry!” You apologized, watching as his smirk grew in size. He placed the cup on the small table by your door, before taking a couple of steps closer. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he put his hands on your hips, leaning the smallest bit in, not taking that stupid smirk off of his face.

His smell was intoxicating, the mixture of alcohol and mint was definitely making your mind clouded. “Tom…” You whispered once he was only centimeters away from you. “What is it, y/n?” He asked, looking between your eyes and your lips. “Kiss me!” You almost pleaded, his smirk the last thing you saw before his lips were crashing into yours. The feeling was new, you hadn’t kissed anyone since your ex-boyfriend and you couldn’t help but compare them. Tom’s was so much better though, his lips could be thin but they held so much power on them, his mouth worked like magic against yours, and before you knew he was pulling away, completely breathless. The pause didn’t last long though, he looked so good with his lips plumped, the tiniest of the smirks still proudly on them, you just couldn’t help yourself and launched yourself at him.

You backed him against the wall, moaning when you felt his tongue entering your mouth. Tom placed both of his hands on your ass, squeezing it before asking, “Bedroom?” Without breaking the kiss, you pointed in the direction of your room and before you knew it, he was carrying you in his arms. You squealed, wrapping your legs around his torso, before going back to his lips. He placed you on the bed, making a trail of kisses from your neck, all the way to your stomach. Once he positioned himself between your tights, he looked at you with his bright brown eyes, asking if he could take your dress off. You nodded and after a little bit of a struggle, he took the thin material out of your body, leaving you in just a pair of white underwear. “You’re so beautiful!” He whispered, going back to your lips and attacking them with kisses. “Tom, please…” You moaned, growing even more eager to feel him. “What do you want, darling?” He smirked, loving seeing you like that. “You, I want you!” With a shake on your voice, you pleaded and he finally took the clue and went to work.

After another confirmation from you, he discarded your panties, tracing his fingers through your now soaked folds. “You look amazing, y/n!” Tom breathed before going straight to your core. You let out a moan as soon as his lips touched you, making your whole body shake with pleasure. “And tastes amazing too!” He purred, focusing on his task. Your moans only grew louder when he pushed two of his slender fingers on your heat. “Fuck, Tom! Feels so good!” You blurted, not being able to control yourself. “That’s it, baby! I can feel your walls clenching around my fingers. Tell me how much do you wanna cum.” Tom whispered, making you clench even more, only by his words. “Wanna cum, Tom! Please…” You were never this talkative in bed and not once has a guy been this dominant with you but you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying it. “Cum for me, baby! Wanna hear you scream my name!” He mumbled and finally lost control. Your whole body shook with pleasure and you had to contain yourself from closing your thighs around Tom’s head.

Once you came back from your high, you opened your eyes to find Tom already looking at you, with some of your wetness still glistening on his chin. “You alright?” He asked, concern coating his words. “Yeah!” You smiled, before going back to his lips. With a quick move, you straddled him, helping him take off his shirt, letting his chest perfectly exposed for you. You lowered yourself, leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, neck, collarbones, chest, each one of his abs, and finally, his perfectly sculpted v line. “Are you sure? You don’t have to, I’ll be perfectly fine by just giving...” You interrupted his mumbling by attaching your lips to his, hoping it would be his answer.

With the rest of his clothes discarded, you couldn’t help but admire his body. He was perfect. Sculpted by the gods, even. After wetting your hands, you took his cock, pumping a few times before attaching your lips to it. You twirled your tongue, tasting his precum, feeling him grow harder and harder on your hands. “Holy shit, you feel so good, y/n!” His words of encouragement were enough for you to start moving your head up and down, taking his member into your mouth inch by inch, until he was bucking his hips. “Fuck! You’re bloody amazing, darling!” He praised, while making direct eye contact with you, “But if you want more, you better stop before I coat your throat with my cum.” You had to admit, his dirty talk was doing something to you.

Releasing his cock with a loud pop, you climbed on top of him, kissing his lips. “Do you have a condom?” He asked between kisses. “Bedside table, first draw.” You answered and after a loud smack on your ass, you got off of him, both of you wearing playful smiles on your faces. Tom opened the foil package and rolled the material into his member, positioning himself at your entrance. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asked, making sure you wanted this as much as he did. “Yes, Tom! I want you to fuck me!” You said, kissing his lips.

With both of his hands on your hips and a huge smirk on his face, he pushed himself into you, making you moan. It took you a few seconds to get used to him and once you nodded, Tom started to move, bringing another level of pleasure to your body. “Fuck! You’re so tight around me, y/n!” He whispered, biting your earlobe. “Tom, fuck me harder!” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to be railed by him. That seemed to take Tom by surprise but he was quick to obey your wish, thrusting harder and harder into your soaking wet core. “You look so beautiful like that, all sweaty, begging me for more!” He kept praising you, feeling how much you liked when he did.

With both of his arms by your head, he caged you, tattooing your face with kisses. “Feel so good, Tom! Please, make me cum!” You mumbled, by now barely able to form sentences. Tom was quick to obey and once his fingers found your clit, rubbing small circles in it, you were gone. Toes curling, you arched your back, getting a handful of the mattress in one hand while the other scratched Tom’s back. “Fuck, y/n!” With a final thrust of his hips, Tom reached his high, moaning your name like it was the most beautiful prayer.

He collapsed on top of you, leaving a long kiss on your lips, before getting up and tossing the condom on the trash. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up, seeing as you were too tired to take a shower, and asked him if he wanted that too. He agreed and once you were decent enough, you put on clean panties and his discarded shirt, asking him to join you on the bed. Of course, he accepted, he wasn’t planning to go anywhere either so, after putting his boxers back on, he climbed on the bed with you.

You quickly doze off but right before you did, you admitted to yourself that, like most of the time, Briana was right, and going to that new club wasn’t a bad idea after all.

tagging: @stuckonspidey @bi-writes @duskholland @screamholland @missnxthingg @tomhollandthing @wazzupmrstark @peeterparkr @veryholland @spideyspeaches-deactivated20221 @lauras-collection @tommybaholland @rebekkah4766 @hopelessromm @pensivepeter @geminiparkers @mrs-hollandstan @hollandcreep @uglypastels

[kimtaejin]

La Luxure (m.)

↳ Thank you to @kim-seok-jin for the beautiful banner and dividers, and to @chillingtae​ for helping her with it! ^^

Heartbroken and done with relationships, Y/N decides to vent about her breakup to the sweetest bartender. Yet just a glance in his dark eyes is enough to tell her that maybe, just maybe she won’t spend the night crying for an ex-boyfriend, but drowning in her lust for him instead.

↠ Pairing: Jungkook × f.reader

↠ Word Count: 10.9k

↠ Genres: Angst, smut, fluff, (slight) crack (if you squint)

↠ Rating: 18+

↠ Trigger Warnings: Breakups and toxic relationship, cheating, swearing, physical fight, drama, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, hinted voyeurism, one night stand, long foreplay, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, degrading, creampie

⇢ This story was written as a birthday gift to @rubinora. We hope you had an amazing day! :D ⇠

Soojin: Y/N come quick.

You take a deep breath. I’m almost there, Soojin, I’m almost there. The sound of your footsteps against the pavement is the only thing you hear. You would’ve made it. You would’ve made it in time if it wasn’t for your pesky co-workers.

To the usual person, it is a cool Friday night. 

To you, it is one of the worst days of your life.

… Or maybe you wouldn’t go as far as to call it that. Maybe, in the future, you would even call this one of your good days.

But for now? 

You smile bitterly, uncaring who sees. Right now- there’s nothing more you want to do than scream. Yell. Anything to take away the fury and pain burning bright in your chest.

Your eyes fall on a couple as you pass them by, reminding you of the reason you’re out in the streets this late at night, instead of relaxing at home. 

Jihyuk. 

Your boyfriend. 

Someone you had a deep admiration for. Someone you loved. 

Someone who doesn’t feel the same way anymore. 

It had all started when you had seen him come home hours later than usual. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. You told yourself that he must be out in town with his friends while you were at work, since he must’ve been bored alone. Because the deal is, he wasn’t employed. He had neither a job nor a penny in his bank account.

And that’s where you helped him. You were the worker. You put a roof over his head, you were the reason he had food on the plate everyday. You were there when he needed to buy anything. It felt more like you were a single parent providing for a child rather than a real, romantic relationship. And that should’ve been more than enough of a reason to leave him but you didn’t. 

And now you regret it.

The next thing that came were the hickies on his neck. Purple bruises put on display, with his flushed cheeks- sometimes he was even drunk. Still, you helped him. Still, you gave him the benefit of a doubt, even when his ears turned red when you asked him if he was lying about just hanging out with friends.

Because there was no point in asking and answering. You already knew what he was doing, already saw the truth in his eyes. 

And somehow still, everytime your friends would show you Jihyuk kissing some other girl, every time they’d tell you that they saw him out with some chick, you’d tell them they had to be seeing things. That the pictures could be photoshopped. Or maybe this was just a joke to make you dump him. But those things weren’t things you were saying to them, as much as it was to yourself, to convince your mind that what you saw or heard wasn’t it. It wasn’t the truth. 

The truth is everything that has yet to be revealed today.

And at this point, you had gotten over the crying, the weeping, the sorrow and the regret. What is left is the anger- the feeling of being used. 

You had given him everything, literally everything, only for him to treat you like some side doll. It hurt then. It hurt even now. It hurt a lot, especially on those nights, when you’d greet him after he came home, the smell of perfume thick on his body, lips bitten and swollen, cheeks red and flushed.

“Do you want dinner?” you’d ask, your eyes wandering anywhere but his face. 

“Uh, no, I’m full. I ate out with friends, one of them treated the group.” 

Lies. So many lies, told just so you’d keep him under your wing, protected and financially secured. 

You smile widely even though inside, your heart wrenches. Why couldn’t he just tell you? It wasn’t like he thought you hadn’t noticed his aloof behaviour. How it affected you in turn.

Or did he? Maybe, he just thought that you were actually that dumb.

Maybe you really were that ignorant.

“Oh... okay. Well... I still have to eat,” you waited for this douche. You can’t believe it. Starved yourself so you could eat dinner with him when he probably was out with a girl. “So… do you want to talk as I eat?”

“Uhm,” his eyes met yours for a moment before he turned them away. “Uh- babe, I’m sorry… I’m tired after the long day, so,” he gave you a small smile. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you really want, I can go, but uh, let me take a shower first? Honestly… my, uh, friends can be so rowdy… I’m exhausted, but I guess you were waiting for me and all…”

You bit your lip as the warring thoughts of indignation, and yet also guilt filled you. “No- no, nevermind. If you’re tired,” you clenched your fists, “you should- go rest now.” 

“Are you sure, babe? I wouldn’t want you to think I was avoiding you. Maybe I should-”

“No! No, I told you, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re the only person who understands and loves me best,” he praised you- and you felt a spark of fury, of hate and love grow in your chest. Was that all he could say to you? “See you tomorrow, then,” he said, his smile fainting away before walking past you to the bedroom. You stared at him until he left, until you couldn’t see him anymore as his silhouette disappeared upstairs. 

The next day went similarly. You had arrived at your empty home.

Why?

Then there were days where you felt a little too insecure and asked him instead. 

“Baby, are you… cheating on me?” 

His body froze. He didn’t say anything for a moment, sitting on the couch as you had begged him a little earlier to watch a K-drama with you. Maybe it would’ve made the relationship a little better. Maybe you could’ve bonded. But he only seemed to be interested on his phone screen.

“What makes you say that?” Still, his eyes did not lift up to look at you. 

“Eun says she saw you with this girl,” you muttered quietly, so quietly that you thought he wouldn’t have heard it. But he did. “She must have seen someone else,” he replied in a nonchalant manner.

“But it really looked like you, she said…”

“Do you believe her over me?” You watched him as he finally looked at you. “I’m your boyfriend, for God’s sake,” you bit your lip, then sighed heavily. It didn’t let all the words escape you. “I know, but…”

“If you want to end this relationship, I won’t stop you. But just know, you won’t find a better guy than me. After all, here I am, taking the time to watch with you, and you accuse me of cheating?” 

Maybe you won’t find someone better. But even so, you knew that you didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve the late nights, wondering where he was, why he wasn’t home, if you’d done something wrong. No, you deserved better- and even if that better wasn’t from someone else, it certainly wouldn’t be from him. 

Jihyuk huffed before standing up, wearing his coat and moments later, you heard the front door open and close. Moments of silence filled the room. You waited for Jihyuk expectantly, waiting for it to open and reveal him, but it didn’t. 

“I wish I didn’t meet you.”

You are so over it. You are so over him. 

You and Soojin had decided to catch him in the act. Your best friend had come up with the plan, and initially you had been in denial of it. But you had to end this cycle. You were so tired of it, of the constant stress you had to live with, of the burden that you weren’t supposed to carry.

You chose to set him up. If he agreed to Soojin’s advances, you were going to catch him red-handed and break it off right there and then. 

And he had done exactly what you didn’t want him to. 

Of course he had. You should’ve caught onto him a long time ago, but you really were a fool. And now that disgusted you. Hate intended for him enveloped you for your own self. 

Walking into the dim-lit club, you are greeted by the sight of bodies pushing up against each other on the dance floor, the faint smell of alcohol lingering everywhere you step, and a bar, shining the brightest in the place. Silhouettes with their lips’ on one another, people drinking down glasses of liquor by each second that passed. A part of you is disgusted that Jihyuk took Soojin to a club, and the other isn’t surprised at all. No wonder the marks on his neck, his swollen lips.

Y/N: I’m here.

Soojin: Ok I’m in the bathroom hiding he was getting too close

Y/N: Right... lets meet up at the bar then.

Soojin: Ok!

Walking swiftly to the bar, you hope Jihyuk doesn’t see you, though in the wild crowd, you know he likely won’t.  

You search for a familiar face as you reach the bar. Your eyes wander and land on the blonde that seems to be looking slightly lost. 

“Soojin!” You call out and walk over to her, knowing fully well what is next. “Where is he?”

“Follow me,” you hear her voice above the loud music. Her disheveled figure makes its way to the seats. You can barely see her in the dark place, if not for the neon lightings flashing here and there.

You take a deep breath in.

Under a stray lighting, you catch sight of the hair you used to so fondly caress. Another one beside it, too close for them to be anything but sitting close, closer than friends, and definitely strangers. A few steps closer and you’d be close enough to see them clearly, close enough to catch him cheating perfectly.

Your heart feels numb, for a moment, contrary to before, but- 

Three.

It’s funny how you can hear your heels echoing even in this noisy club. Or maybe that’s the beating of your heart.

Two.

Thinking back on everything that you’d gone through with him, if there’s any emotion that you think you should be feeling right now, it’s disbelief. Why? Did all the tender touches, all the kisses, all the ‘I love you’s mean nothing then?

It must, or else this wouldn’t be happening at all. One.

Yet even so, your ever traitorous heart still weeps at the sight before you, as your gazes both match.

Jihyuk’s eyes widen as he sees you. His lips are pressed to the side of a girl’s neck, and even under the dim lighting, you can see the dark splotches of color on her pale skin. The girl beside him whimpers, leaning in closer, seeking his touches, the way he used to make you feel oh so good, your mind whispers.

He only pushes her away, frozen in place as he locks you down with guilt in his eyes. 

The loud, deafening music somehow doesn’t matter anymore.

“Y/N,” his voice can barely be heard, but for someone like you who’s watched him utter your name with adoration before, you hear him perfectly. 

"Well… I guess I’m not that surprised.” Your words are dry, devoid of feeling. Your fists are clenched. Your smile is wry. “What do you have to say for yourself?" you are going to do this quick, you tell yourself. But the crowd of people overhearing the matter already have their eyes on you. 

As it is, even people lost in the rhythm of the club’s music are interested in your confrontation, bodies stopping in motion, only for strange eyes to stare at you with curiosity instead. 

It’s scary. You can’t do this, a part of you wants to say- but how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone and felt the butterflies dance in your stomach, telling a tale so similar to the one of your lips? How long has it been since you’ve wanted to do something like that?

Your heart burns.

Truth be told, too long. Too fucking long. You’ve spent too much time in misery for you to turn your back on the person that brought you it. You want to be free. Breathe air without feeling suffocated, sleep without having to think about a person being next to you as you do so.

Free, at last. 

“I-” he tries to speak, but you look at him quietly, face devoid of any emotion, only your lips tightening a clue to your current mood.

“Don’t you feel like shit? Leaving me alone on those nights when I actually put a roof over your head, when I’m the main reason you get to eat food every day? Why did you do this to me?” 

You know you sound desperate. Here he is, clearly in the arms of another, yet you’re asking him, staring at him, waiting for an answer, an excuse, but he is able to give none. It only makes it all the worse, it only makes you gasp for more air, because each time he doesn’t reply, the walls get tighter and tighter.

“Fuck, if you wanted someone to give you a good time in bed, why couldn’t it have been me? We were in a relationship!” you exclaim. More people are gathering around, but at this point, you can’t care less.

“Could you not control yourself for once?! Do you have no shame coming home each day smelling like sex? Do you not love me?” The last words leave you as a whisper, your voice choked up and your tone vulnerable. It is evident he didn’t love you, if he did then he wouldn’t have done this. But you still wanted to ask. In case there was the smallest chance that he would give you something to hold onto.

“What about the times that you lied? Do you have no heart?” A single tear slips down your cheek. 

Fuck. You hate this.

Seconds pass, and nothing but his silence answers you. And when he does- it does nothing but rile you even further.

“Babe…” There’s the guilt in his eyes, that’s true, but it’s eclipsed by the panic, the way he’s obviously trying to assuage your anger. Instead of just admitting it. Instead of asking for your forgiveness.

Not that you would at this point, even if he begged on his knees.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he winces and you sharply smile.

“What, you can, but I can’t? Besides, shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? There I was, wondering where my boyfriend was, someone without a job staying out so late without even a message,” you laugh, as though the entire matter is funny to you, but anyone can easily hear the mockery in your voice. “Then I find out he’s in a club, busy whoring himself out.”

He bristles at that, guilt fading into anger as he stands up. “I’m whoring myself out?”

“Well, what else would you call it? You certainly don’t have any money, after all, not even to afford partying at this club. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that why you ask me for money?” At that, you turn to face his previously ignored companion. Seeing the surprise and growing disgust against your soon-to-be-ex, you ask her gently. It’s all too obvious she didn’t know, after all. And as angry as you are, you won’t blame her for something that’s not her fault.

“Miss, dare I ask, did he have you pay for the drinks?”

She startles, but answers you steadily after a moment. “No, not at the start… but he did insist we pay for our own drinks, and then later on, he told me he left his wallet at home…” Realization colors her features as he reddens in embarrassment and anger. “That asshole, I must have spent more than a hundred dollars by now!”

“Tsk, tsk,” you mockingly shake your head at him, a part of you roaring at the highly humiliated look on his face. Just a glance downwards, and you can see how his fists are clenched, perhaps as tight as yours, veins already bulging out. Just a little more, and you could get him to explode. “Here I was, all but raising you, looking after you and feeding you, taking care of you, and you can’t even learn to have basic decency. Maybe I should feel ashamed, after all… more than being a couple in a relationship, our relationship turned more like mother and son, didn’t it?”

At the very end of your words, you raise your head, laughing. Jihyuk’s face colors to the point that it’s almost violet, and you feel vindictive satisfaction fill you.

“Y/N, you bitch!”

“What,” you scoff. “Did I say something wrong?”

If glares could kill, Jihyuk’s would have long gutted you, but it doesn’t, so you continue to hold your head high, smiling nonchalantly. 

His next words make you hiss.

“If you weren’t always so busy, I wouldn’t have to look for someone else. When you came home, you never want to have sex with me, so why is it my fault if I look for someone else, huh!?”

You feel the flames inside you consume you even further, raging inside you and there’s nothing you can do to help relieve yourself of it. Before you know it, you’re stepping forward, arms being raised-

All you want is to make him hurt, like he did you, even if it’s only a fraction of what he’s made you feel. That motherfucker, daring to place the blame on you!?

Hell no.

Hitting him all that matters at the moment- that’s all that runs through your head- but then you suddenly find yourself unable to move, restrained. When you look back, you see Soojin’s face, twisted in worry. 

“Soojin, please, let me go!” You hiss furiously, struggling in her hold, trying to get away. Yet, to her credit, Soojin keeps a tight hold on you, not letting you take another step forward. “Are you seriously stopping me from hitting him!? Are you taking his side!?” You ask her in disbelief, even if you know it’s not like that.

“Y/N, I’m not!” Immediately she shakes her head, yet she doesn’t let you go. “But you know you can’t start this here, you-” she bites down on her red lip, shaking her head. “You can’t. Please, you know he’s crazy, what if he hurts you!”

It doesn’t matter, I’m already hurt where it matters most anyway! You want to shout at her, but then you change your mind, glaring at the man you were once stupid enough to call yours.

“If I was ever busy, or tired, I hope you realize that it was always for you! And if I didn’t want to have sex, what did that have to do with you cheating!? Do promises mean nothing to you!? I never asked you for anything more than you being faithful to me, even when you kept asking me for money, even when you lived free at my house, even when you made me into your personal bank and caretaker! You asshole, motherfucker, I hope you rot in hell where cheaters like you belong!”

“Shut up!” He yells back at you, beginning to step forward, and Soojin is dragging you away- but you hold your ground. Let him come, if he wants-

“Shut up!? How can I when I’m not even done yelling about what you did! What, are you ashamed now!?” Only a step away. “How can there be someone as stupid as you who dares to cheat but can’t admit they did!?” His hand raised, curled into a fist. “Not only that, you just took advantage of me because I loved you! You no good, lying, coward-”

You see his punch descending down on you now, yet still you stubbornly look up at him, gritting your teeth. You won’t say sorry, if he wants to punch you, then let him punch you. 

Yet still, at the last second, your eyes shut by themselves. You’re angry, yes, you’re furious, but it doesn’t take away the fact that you’re well aware Jihyuk’s stronger, and you’ve never been punched before-

A second passes. You feel nothing. Not the feel of his hand against your face, not the harsh, stinging pain that’d come with it, not the screams of Soojin as she cried.

Two seconds pass. Time is a mere fraction of what it used to be, and yet it’s slowly returning to you as you open your eyes, realizing you were seemingly waiting for nothing at all.

Three seconds pass. Your eyes land on the stranger holding Jihyuk’s wrist with a strong grip, brows furrowed with an intimidating scowl on his face. You step back out of fear.

“I assume, when you came in, you knew the rules of this bar,” the stranger says, voice low, a certain weight behind his every word. “No starting fights. What makes you think you’re an exception to that?”

“Let me go!” Jihyuk hisses, struggling to free his arm from the stranger, yet the other just easily holds him back. “Fuck, you heard what that bitch said about me!?”

“You mean, your ex?” The stranger sighs. “I don’t know if you’re just as stupid as she said you were, if you don’t realize that it’s your fault-”

Whatever he says next, you don’t hear, as you take this advantage to step forward-

-and slap Jihyuk as hard you can. 

Your palms immediately sting, but you can’t be bothered to care about that, not when you see the bright red imprint left behind on his face, and the stunned look on his face. Grinning viciously, you hiss at him.

“That’s just a part of the pain you owe me, but considering you’re too dumb to understand something as simple as respect, I’ll just take this as payment.”

“From now on, I want you to fuck off and never appear in front of me again.”

The ringing silence that follows makes you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“... Satisfied?” The unknown man raises a brow at you- and your heart skips a beat for the first time in a while as you swallow, finally calming down a little... It’s loud, crashing, dizzying all at once but you nod at him. Your hands are trembling. You’re about ready to cry but still.

The rest of the words your now ex screams out blur out into the background as Soojin thanks the stranger, leading you away.

The rest of the events happen in what feels to be a flashback you get as you’re taking a sip of beer from the cup leisurely.

The stranger, Jungkook, he had told you his name, was told by your best friend about the problem. He called security, but came first to mediate just in case. After that, he let them take care of Jihyuk. The crowd around you dispersed upon finding out that the scene you had created was over, and Soojin went home after giving you the tightest hug someone had given you in a while now. 

Though she tried to persuade you to go home too, you were in obviously no mood to go home- where every inch of the walls was filled with the presence of your- your ex.

It was only after a lot of convincing and reassuring her that you were safe with Jungkook did she leave, her own baby calling for her.

And you stayed at the bar, quietly watching Jungkook work.

During that time, you find out that he’s, overall, a nice guy. He has a cute smile that shows off his teeth perfectly, dark hair that you could imagine him brushing through with his hand, and the cutest, biggest eyes you’ve seen, like a deer caught in the headlights. Adorable.

What surprises you is that he works as a bartender at this place. Which does make sense now that you think about it. But between your dunk mind and slurred words, every little piece of logic is thrown aside.

He had asked if you wanted him to walk you home. You being… well, you, denied almost immediately. Tonight seemed like a good night to get wasted, after all.

“Whatever you say… but you do have the keys to your apartment, right?” the dark-haired man asks, face resting on his hand. He blinks at you under the bright lights of the bar, staring as you take another sip of the alcohol. “Just so your ex doesn’t get in?”

“Of course, I locked it too,” you roll your eyes slightly, glare set on the table below you as you seethe, remembering him. “He’s probably gonna stay at some friend’s place for the night, the jerk. I hope he does, all his friends live miles away. I took the car keys so he can’t drive either, only either walk or take a cab. And considering he barely has any money left...”

You smirk.

A fleeting smile touches on Jungkook’s face as he regards you with awe. “Huh. I guess you put more to your plan than just charging in and breaking up with him, huh?”

“I’m heartbroken, not stupid. It’s an emotional stupidity, not a mental one.”

You huff, once again laying your head back on the cool glass of the table. Fuck, you’re tired. Not just emotionally, but also physically. The night’s events leave you wanting nothing but to stay and drink your sorrows away, uncaring in which bed you’ll be waking up tomorrow.

After all, it’s not like you’ve been to any besides your own for the past few months. Maybe that will bring you some variety at least. The thought makes you laugh bitterly, and in turn down another glass of alcohol.

You hear someone sigh beside you.

“...Right,” he mutters in response, eyes widening shortly after you take another huge gulp of your drink. You suppose, if anything, Jungkook knows how to make delicious drinks. “Don’t drink too much, Y/N, you’re already-” you watch with droopy eyes as he reaches out to you, your head only propped up by your elbow, before stopping with a sigh. “You’re already drunk.”

Ignoring him momentarily, you finish your drink, savoring the taste.

“Sh-shhhuddap,” you slur, the end of your words becoming a sigh. You set the cup aside, only for your head to plop back onto the bar table, a deep breath making your chest rise up- then down. Jungkook frowns at your small figure laying over the bar, the frown forming into a quiet pout.

“Let me… lemme just drink a little bit more, m-m’kay? ’ll jus…jus’ drink ‘nough to not f-feel...”

Whatever words you’re about to say dissolve into incoherent mumblings as you yawn, feeling the effects of numerous glasses of alcohol finally taking their toll on you.

“‘Night, Kook...”

When you wake up, your surroundings are awfully quiet, awfully dark. That is, until you rub your eyes and can see straight. Jungkook’s body comes into view, hand shaking you awake. His low whispers are barely addressed by your ears, and you numb them out until he kneels down to meet eye to eye with you.

Then a sweet smile plays on his lips, and wow. 

For a moment, you wonder if this is what heaven feels like.

Then he flicks your forehead, and you’re hurtled back to earth.

“Good, you’re finally awake,” he remarks, smile turning wry on his face. You pout in response, getting up. Your head hurts, it hurts bad, and there seems to be nothing you can do about it as you lean over the bar for support. 

“So… urgh, so tired… feeling sick,” you utter beneath your breath, sighing when you realize Jungkook heard it. 

“Why’d you even get wasted then? You’ll have to deal with it now,” he frowns, patting your back. 

“You don’t get it, dumbass. I’m trying not to remember my ex?” you cross your arms, eyes wandering the place.

The club’s a lot less crowded now, barely any people left except for the ones who are cleaning it up. The music is quieter, playing softly in the background as you turn to Jungkook. Closing time already, you guess.

“... sorry,” you finally say, feeling remorse make space in your heart. “I don’t mean to be so crabby, but fuck, I just feel-” You scrunch up your nose as you try to mull over what you say next. “Actually, I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Except- what the fuck was I thinking, letting it go on for so long?”

Jungkook hums, shrugging. “Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has their own stupid moments. I completely understand.”

“Yeah, and mine lasted for god knows how many years,” you grumble.

For a moment he pauses, and you watch him put away bottles.

“You know, you fell asleep quickly earlier,” he suddenly mentions, making you flush. Ah. Right.

“Oh… yeah, I’m sorry about that,” you sigh. “I must’ve caused you a lot of trouble, having to look after me while you’re also busy with your work.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You just broke up with your boyfriend of how many years again?”

“Besides,” he continues, smiling. “If anything, your performance earlier more than made up for it. His face when you slapped him was hilarious.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “... You looked amazing then too.”

“Thanks. … to be honest, just a single slap wasn’t enough, so I definitely had to make it count,” you say, scoffing at the end. 

“Yeah, I figured,” the hint of laughter in his voice makes even you smile. “You didn’t yell at him enough, huh?”

“Nope,” you emphatically shake your head. “Which is a shame, because let me tell you- I have a whole speech in my head for him and his douche-assery. I didn’t even touch on the other major fuck ups he did!”

At that, he really does laugh, and you can’t help grinning yourself. “No, I mean it! I was hyping myself up all evening, but then when I actually saw him, my head blanked and- damn it, I should have let him have it even more in front of all those people,” you dramatically groan.

A smile forms on Jungkook’s face, even his eyes curved into a pair of crescent moons and somehow, it makes you somehow feel better just by looking at it.

“Well, there’s only the two of us left inside now, but if you want, I’ll listen to your speech,” he nonchalantly states. 

“What, really?”

“Really.” He takes a deep breath, turning your body around so you completely face him. “C’mon, shout at me. Vent. I’m the bartender, I’ll listen. Besides, I’m curious to hear how terrible this guy was that you went so far to set him up.”

Reluctantly listening to the alcohol, you sigh before you start listing off all the reasons for why you’ve never felt okay with your relationship with Jihyuk. Jungkook hums and nods along in all the right pauses, quietly telling you to continue.

“... and not just that, he never came home when I needed him most, ghosted me on dates, forgot our anniversary two years in a row, made me break off friendships, never once paid for his own food, never made me cum even once. Like, what a dick!? And I mean the bad kind, not the good one-”

“Wait wait wait…” Jungkook raises a brow, stopping you. “He- He never… made you cum? Not even once?” He stares at you in bewilderment, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief. “He must’ve really had it good,” he crosses his arms. 

“I know, right,” you moan. “What was past me thinking? At this point, I don’t think any man will ever treat me right.” 

The man shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe the next one will.” 

You feel the urge to laugh at the ridiculous statement, though you hold it back. “You’re kidding, right? I’m never getting a boyfriend ever again,” you huff, shaking your head in disapproval. “Boys, pfft- no, thank you.”

Jungkook only turns his back to you in response, walking to the stools of the bar. He huffs loudly as he sits back down, and you can barely contain your laughter before it bursts out of you, ringing loud in the club. Nudging him by the arm to get his attention, you try your best to turn him around, but when he doesn’t, you move to sit next to him instead, on the bartop. The cool glass makes you initially shiver, but you don’t let it show.

“Did you say something?” You grin as you look at him, at the way he rolls his eyes just a little. “I know I heard you say something.”

“It was nothing,” he scoffs.

“Come on,” you cajole him. “You listened to me earlier and let me rant. I’m not going to laugh or be snarky, I swear.”

A moment passes, while you wait for him to speak up. At this point, the silence of the bar is comfortable, though while you look around, you see that no one else is left inside but the two of you.

“...-y’know?”

You look back at him. “Hm?”

“I think it’s just a little sad to declare that every guy out there is hopeless, because of one jerk,” he repeats, back turned to you as he fiddles with the display case.

You lean back on the bartop. “I guess so,” you say. “But it’s true that it’s disillusioning. I used to have high expectations when the relationship started, you know- but now that I ended it, it’s like- what happened? When did my expectations get so low? I deserve better, you know?”

“But it didn’t seem that way to me then. He seemed so great, so amazing… and now here we are. It scares me a little to think that I might fall for someone, only to find out how much of a jerk they are years down the road.”

“But you’ve got to try again, don’t you?” He softly says. “After all, you said it yourself. You deserve better.”

At that, he finally faces you - before glancing down and turning away just as quickly.

“Eventually, though,” he clarifies, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not saying you should right now. Just that you shouldn’t give up on love.”

You chuckle softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

Quiet fills the room again, a comfortable one. You watch Jungkook clean the last of the bar, wiping the surfaces and glasses.

And as you do, you can’t help but think of something a little too inappropriate.

‘I wonder how it’d feel to ride him.’

Okay, maybe it’s absolutely inappropriate. But it’s not your fault, you tell yourself. Not when Jungkook looks that good. Clad in a neat outfit with a silk black vest and a cute bow tie around his neck, he seemed as though he was a five star meal- and you feel yourself starving.

It really doesn’t help that you haven’t had sex in months, nor have you orgasmed in that time. You need release, one way or another.

Still, it’s bad form to ask him, this kind bartender who literally was just consoling you moments ago from a nasty break up if he wants to fuck, so you try to keep the thought down, but-

You extend your leg, toes barely brushing against his back, watching as he shudders at your touch.

Oh?

You bite your lips to stop yourself from grinning.

“Hey Jungkook… why aren’t you facing me?” “I-I need to clean up the bar,” he huffs, but you hear the slight stammer in his voice, and oh, does it make you feel even bolder.

“Yeah,” you nonchalantly respond, “but you’d think you could at least try to appear like you’re listening to me, especially when we were having such a good chat.”

“You-” He stops, sighing, and you goad him even further, slowly feeling more sure the longer he hesitates.When he turns around- finally- you laugh as you slide your arms to rest on his shoulders, trapping him in front of you.

Furthermore, you cross your legs, a daring smirk on your face as you lean forward and over him close, close enough that as you look down at him, the tip of your noses brush against each other. The slight tremors that you elicit out of him at this close range doesn’t escape your notice, and you feel a rush of giddiness fill you up.

“You know, you were so insistent earlier, when we talked about what I deserved. But considering my past experiences, that feels a little hard to believe… do you think you can convince me otherwise?” You hum, fluttering your eyelashes at him. To his credit, Jungkook stills for only a moment, onyx eyes staring straight back at you. As if to ask permission, as if to wait for your next move. But you only continue to smile, letting him know you want this, asking him if he wants it.

Just as you think he’ll pull away, he only answers you back with a smirk of his own- and then, you can’t help but be entranced by the sudden, daring gleam in his eyes. Just as your arms are perched on his shoulders, you feel fingers gently trace over the edges of your lips.

“Why don’t you find out?”

You wouldn’t, normally. One night stands aren’t your thing. You rarely give your heart away, and even more your body.

But tonight, staring at the man in front of you, the challenge and interest visible in his eyes, you find yourself wanting to do otherwise.

Maybe I will, you think. 

And then you dip down to kiss him.

Immediately, you can taste the hint of mint on his lips, the sweet aftertaste of what seems to be banana milk- it’s strange and surprising, not exactly what you’d think a bartender would taste like. It isn’t something you’ve tasted on someone else before either, but as his tongue glides over your lips, silently asking for permission, you find yourself coming to like the flavor. Especially when he kisses you hard enough to make you feel like you’re drowning.

You whimper in pleasure when you suddenly feel him press his bulge against your core for one moment, breaking the kiss only to groan again as he repeats the gesture, grinding your lower bodies together. You can only hold on to his back as tight as you can, feeling the rising tides of lust slowly pull you under its current. A breathless moan leaves you, echoing loudly in the quiet of the empty bar.

“Got something to say, sweetheart?” Jungkook coos, and the words are soon accompanied by a sharp pain on your neck, something that makes the pleasure taste all the more sweeter in comparison. That doesn’t even take into account his hands, which you now notice to be gliding over your stomach, stopping under your breasts as he fondles them and makes you arch back in pleasure for a moment.

“God, just continue doing that,” You whine out and he pauses to laugh, smirk turning into something softer, but just as wild. “Jungkook,” he corrects you, flicking your nipple and you flinch as a sharp wave of pleasure rushes over you. “Don’t call out anybody else’s name but mine, or I’ll punish you.”

‘How can I think about anybody else when you’re making me feel so good right now?’ You almost tell him that, you want to tell him that, but as Jungkook switches his attention from your collarbones to your breasts, tongue lavishing over each mound equally, you find your thoughts slipping away from you.

You don’t even register that you’re being pushed to lie back until the cold glass makes you jerk - and Jungkook firmly keeps you pinned down, another moan leaving you as you feel his fingers probe against your core. You feel him place butterfly kisses down your legs, the touch light yet the effects tremendous on you as you shiver and tremble from each one.

“We barely started and you’re already this wet, huh,” he grins as he slides a finger up your panty, where your slit would be. Juice already coats his finger well, and even though he only teases you against your panties, you find that you’re sensitive, too sensitive not to feel even more turned on by such a small gesture. “Or were you already wet earlier? What a naughty girl.”

“Fffffuck,” you groan, thrusting against his fingers so that they rub against you harder. “Just slip it in already,” you whimper. “Don’t be a fucking tease.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Jungkook purrs as he flicks your nub, making you clench hard at the frustration and anticipation. It infuriates you even more when you feel his fingers leave your skirt, and he leans away a little. You can clearly see the smirk on his face again, amusement swimming with lust in his eyes. “You weren’t being so nice earlier either. Maybe if you were a good girl, I’d listen.”

At that, you pull yourself up, coming closer to him until you bite his shoulder, leaving marks over his neck as well as you can under the raging pleasure. “Or you can listen now, before I make you regret it.” You roll your hips against his, relishing in the quiet groan that leaves him as the delicious friction threatens to drown you both in pleasure.

Honestly, in the face of Jungkook’s ministrations, you find it’s all too easy to let yourself loose, to want more.

You’re surprised when he bends, pushing you back down - and the flash of pain and pleasure on the inner part of your thighs makes you hiss.

“What are you doing?”Jungkook’s answer is light, but the cocky tone is all too evident anyway. “Didn’t you challenge me to make you cum?” Another hickey blooms on your thighs and you whimper as he leaves a trail of them on his way down. “So I’ve made it my mission to make you cum as much as I can tonight.” You feel his nose nudge your panty and you can’t help groaning in anticipation. “Starting with eating you out.”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“A-Ah, I’ve never been eaten out before,” you stammer, heart beating fast as you can clearly feel his hair brush against your skin. Lust, excitement, and yet also nerves envelop you then.

For some reason, you can’t help but feel a little self conscious. No one, not even your past boyfriends have done this, after all.

Still, Jungkook only chuckles. “How mean. There I was, making you drinks the whole night, but you won’t even let me have a taste of you now that I’m thirsty.” You can’t see him over the skirt you’re wearing- why, again, are you still wearing it- but you can imagine the chiding smile, the mischief in his eyes. Especially when you feel him blow on you down there, making you shudder. 

“Look, you’re even overflowing. Bet you’d taste sweeter and better than any wine here.”

With that, your skirt is taken off, and you gasp as you suddenly taste something on your lips. Yet that isn’t the end of it as for some reason, you suck on his fingers, imagining it to be his cock. 

Fuck, you taste good.

Just as that thought reaches you, you think- you want to taste him too.

“Can I, sweetheart?” He asks you again. “I’ll make you feel good.” There’s a chuckle in his words, but before he can say anything more, you tug him up.“Wanna taste you too,” you admit, before blushing. Still, you continue. “So get up here.”

“On the bar top? Kinky,” he grins, but follows your instructions. Moving so that your whole body is laid down on the bartop, you hiss as the cool temperature of the glass makes itself known to your thighs. Not for long though- as the warmth of Jungkook’s body envelops you moments later.

In this position, Jungkook’s crotch faces you, and you find your mouth watering over it. Eager hands cup it for a moment, before you pull down the zipper and admire his member.

God, even his dick is pretty. 

Long and veined, what it lacked in girth, the slight curve certainly made up for it. You immediately took it into your mouth, moaning around it when you felt him move your panties to the side and immediately dived in.

On Jungkook’s side - he loves it, every single second of it. He loves how he can make you a mess, how he can wreck you, you bucking up your hips to meet him as you suck and moan around his dick. There is something about you that he couldn’t help but be attracted to. He can’t believe your ex had cheated on you. Just from that moment in which you confronted your ex, he could sense that you were far, far more better than any girl he had ever seen.

Moans and whimpers filled the room as you tremble under Jungkook. Every lap of his tongue, sucking on your nub- hell, just the way he moves his tongue inside your walls is enough to make you push your thighs together.

The pleasure inside you only rises higher and higher, making you continuously grind your hips against his face. True, it’s the first time someone’s eaten you out, but all the same you know you wouldn’t cum just from it if the other person wasn’t good enough.

Jungkook aims to go beyond your expectations it seems. In response, you take him in even deeper, slightly gagging on his dick. One hand reaches out to fondle his balls, rolling them over your hand. Soft, pliant in your hold. You squeeze them slightly, and a sense of accomplishment fills you as you feel him physically stutter, thrusting his dick deeper into you. Jungkook is obviously way more experienced though, or perhaps it’s a sense of competitiveness that’s driving him to make sure you come first, because as you feel something inside you continue to tighten - you pant, recognizing the signs of an impending orgasm. A distant part of you is amazed you could reach an orgasm so quickly - the other is very, very pleased.

“I’m... so close,” you say through uneven breaths, chasing your high. His tongue works at an even faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. Your walls tighten around his finger, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel it. “Then come for me, sweetheart,” you hear him say.

And that does it.

White warmth, inside and out. Your lower body jerks against him, but Jungkook only rides out your orgasm with you, lapping up the juices that gush from you, the messy sounds of slurping and sucking turning you on even more, if that’s possible. You feel feverish, your oversensitive clit being given a little too much attention. What more, the feeling of your body contrasting against the cold surface of the bartop, shivering a little when his finger traces the curves of your body as you continue to feel the last trembles from your orgasm.When

 he finally leans back, Jungkook smiles at the glistening digit and licks his fingers clean. You taste even better than he thought. Truly, you’re an angel. Just as he prepares to get off of you, you give one good suck to his dick, making him jerk. For you, you can feel his hard member twitch in your mouth - and it doesn’t take much to figure out that Jungkook himself is close to release. Still, as he lets out a quiet groan, he moves away. You make to protest, but-

The way he quickly moves on top of you, fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt and grinding his member against your core makes you moan, long and loud.

“I don’t wanna cum just yet,” his voice is distinctively lower now, and something heady rushes through you at the realization that you did that. He hisses when you experimentally roll your hips back against him.

Hunger like you’ve never known spreads across you like a wildfire. You want all of what Jungkook has to offer.

“You ready, sweetheart?” He cooes. “You’ll have to be quiet if I put it in, don’t want anyone else hearing how beautiful you sound when I’m fucking you thoroughly.”

Instead of answering, you meet him up in an eager kiss, your hands spreading across his chest - God, you don’t know when he unbuttoned his shirt, but you’re definitely thankful he did. Otherwise, how could you so clearly feel the muscles on his smooth skin?

And then you feel him enter you and fuck.

If what you felt before was something new, then this was definitely out of this world.

Jungkook’s dick fills you up just perfect, the wetness of your vagina and the slick on his dick makes the slide inside so much smoother, and both of you sigh in pleasure. For a moment, you’re both content to lie like that, just basking in the feeling of being connected to each other. 

He himself doesn’t know how to explain it, how you differ from others. Everything you do somehow seems to draw him in, and in this moment- he feels like he could just stay like that forever and be content.

You, on the other hand, feel different.

“Jungkook, please, move already,” you eventually plead. Your body arches up as he pulls out for a moment, before beginning to thrust his hips into you at a fast rate, clearly giving you no mercy. Fuck, how in the hells did you ever think any previous sex you had could compare with this?

It’s easy to lose all coherence in this moment, the overwhelming feeling of bliss making you think of nothing but Jungkook’s dick, and the way he drags it against your walls, teasing you before slamming it inside, drawing out the pleasure and then drowning you in it.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounds in the empty room, alongside your mixed groans and whimpers. Jungkook spares you no mercy, and you soon find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, this one even more intense than the last. It doesn’t help that you feel him leave hickeys over your chest, biting and then soothing them afterwards, sliding his tongue over them. Tears prick your eyes as the pain and the pleasure mix together, making each feeling all the more intense to you.

Fuck, where had he been all your life? You’ve never felt so good in sex- not like this, not with your previous encounters. But right here and right now, you swear that if there’s a god, then Jungkook must have been his favorite, and you were blessed to have been touched by him.

“J-Jungkook, I-I’m coming again-!” Rather than slow down, it seems your words just urge him to fuck you harder, faster, making you sob as another wave of pleasure threatens to drown you under. 

“Then come all you want,” he growls, dragging you into a fierce kiss, wanting to taste you- but also to silence you. 

“A-Ah!” You scream out, panting, as you ride another wave of orgasm-

The harsh smack on your bottom makes you jerk off the table with a sob. Jungkook hisses as he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty- but not for too long, as you’re turned over, and he shoves his cock back inside your hole. You moan, long and loud in pleasure, before you feel another smack on your bottom.

“What part of ‘keep quiet’ didn’t you understand?” He reprimands you sternly, each word accentuated by a hit on your bottom that makes you jerk, each time. “I told you to be quiet, or we’d both get in trouble. There’s still the club’s bodyguard standing outside. If he heard us, how much do you want to bet he’d come in and see your pretty little body all laid out under me, huh?”

“I-” You try to explain, but end up heaving deep breaths instead as he thrusts his hips particularly hard, leaving you a whimpering mess as you drop your head onto the table again, the ache at the back of our head barely being addressed by your numb mind.

“You what?” He growls, hands snaking forward to pull your head back with your hair- making you groan as he lowers himself right next to your ear. “You what, Y/N? Got nothing to say right now?”

He tsks. “Or maybe him seeing you is what you want. How many hours has it been since we just met, and how you’re gladly taking up my cock in your cunt right now? I guess you’re nothing but a slut.”

“I-I,” You try again, but all that remains in your head is him calling you a slut. The humiliation it draws from you, reddening your cheeks, somehow only serves to make you feel even more aroused. You can’t think of anything else, but how to just push yourself back into Jungkook’s dick because clearly, he is drawing it out and depriving you of what you need!

“What are you, Y/N?” his voice is hoarse as he asks, his dark hair a mess that covers his beautiful face. “...Wanting others to see you looking so pretty for me,” the knot in your stomach tightens as you try to think of a reply, yet nothing comes. Fuck fuck fuck.

“I don’t, I-” you stop. You can’t, you just can’t, if you don’t get what you want right now, you might as well die.

“Disappointing,” he clicks his tongue dismissively, and you feel your eyes burn out of desperation. “And here I thought you’d be good for me?”

“I’m sssssorrryyyy!” You whine out when he won’t let you off, the tears falling down your face now. “I’m a slut! A fucking slut! Your slut,” you cry out. “P-Please, put it back innn!”

“Mm, I still don’t know,” he drawls. “I already warned you to be good earlier, but you just kept on pushing me. And now you clearly disobeyed me. Only good girls, not sluts, get rewards, don’t you think?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, whimpering. “Please, I can be good, so please-!”

Hands rub your bottom, a slight sting reminding you that he’d already hit you there earlier. Yet somehow all it did was make you even more sensitive to not just the pain, but also heightening the pleasure you felt.

“If you take your punishment obediently, I might let you off,” he suddenly offers. Jungkook’s voice has become sweet again, soft and sticky and coaxing. Not that you need it though, considering he has you in his palms either way.

Not to mention that the thought of the punishment at hand makes your core throb.

You bite your lips, hoping that he doesn’t see how flushed you are. You don’t doubt that you’re dripping down so much on the glass bartop that at this point, that there must be a puddle right below your cunt. But at the thought of what he’s about to do, you feel yourself secreting even more. “Oh?” He chuckles, dragging a finger along your clit. At this point your labia are puffed up, swollen with Jungkook’s relentless attacks on it, but still it doesn’t hide how aroused you are at this moment. All it is is overly sensitive, and still asking for more. 

“Seems to me that you like that, huh? I guess I was right. Being good doesn’t suit you at all, slut,” he tsks. “You just wanted to get punished.”

“I-I can take it,” you meekly tell him, shaking your ass a little. At the sight, Jungkook smirks wickedly. “Alright then. I want you to count each strike, sweetheart. And if you lose count, we’ll be starting all over again. … Do you understand that?” 

Near the end, you hear Jungkook’s tone soften, and it’s all too easy to hear the way out he’s offering you. You want it, though. “H-How many?”

He pauses, before continuing. “How many do you think you deserve?”

You swallow loudly. “I… I don’t know.” You bite your lips. “I’ve, uh- I’ve never been spanked like this before.”

You feel embarrassment course through your veins for a moment as Jungkook freezes, and you wonder if you should’ve just said a random number-

But then the loud smack of a hand against your ass rings out loud in the room, and you jerk wildly against the bartop, a silent scream in your throat.“Until I say stop, then. That was one already,” Jungkook purrs. 

You whimper, but nod along as he starts.

Smack!

“Two!”

Smack!

“T-Three!”!

Smack! 

“F-Four,” you whimper.

At each hit of his hand against your ass, you can’t help moaning, louder with each one. Jungkook’s hands are swift, and absolute- no mercy left for you, only his feather-light gentle caresses after each hit making you weep.

At the eight count, you’re absolutely gone, panting, a mess of tears and pain and pleasure and overall just too fucking sensitive. But the sheer amount of thrill and joy that settles in you as Jungkook finally stops is just short of euphoria, and you look up at him, your eyes pleading for his praise and reassurance.

Sure enough, Jungkook doesn’t disappoint.

He slides you off the counter and into his arms, your legs crossed around his, into a long, sweet kiss, swallowing up the sounds that leave your lips, the little whimpers and groans.

“You took your punishment so well,” he compliments you as he pulls back, making you preen. “I suppose you deserve a reward then, don’t you?”

“P-Please,” you plead, rutting your core against his erect cock. It slides against your core all too easily, making you groan. Still, you don’t dare put it inside, waiting for Jungkook’s permission first.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins, and-

Jungkook’s kiss swallows up the scream that leaves you as he thrusts back into your hole in one smooth movement, bringing you back into that land of sheer pleasure and lust.

In this position, held up in the air only by his arms, you keenly feel every movement of his cock inside you as he bounces you, forcing you to go up and down repeatedly. You’re almost delirious, your hands no doubt leaving scratch marks on his body as you hold him as tight as you can, feeling everything just too much.

It doesn’t take more than a minute or two to bring you to your third orgasm. It seems that Jungkook himself senses that as well, because the moment you feel it coming, he speeds up his thrusts again, making you scream. 

“J-Jungkook!!” You wail out his name as one final jerk of his hips brings you crashing down, bliss enveloping you fully as you almost white out, spasming and losing control of your body for a moment.

When you come to, a second later, you feel him desperately moving in you, but the stuttered way he does so tells you all you need to know.

“W-Where should I cum?” He grits the words out his teeth, and you hiss in pleasure, in over-sensitivity and pain as his member remains inside of you even after you’ve orgasmed for the third time. You’re determined to get him to come as well though, something warm blazing in your chest. You don’t owe favors, and you won’t anymore, so maybe that’s the reason why.

For whatever reason it truly is, though, you tell him with a steady voice. “Just come inside me,” you give him permission. Jungkook groans at that, looking straight at you, as if to ask, are you sure?

You nod, drawing him into a sweet kiss. There’s nothing but elation inside you at this moment.

When you squeeze his member inside your cunt, you moan as you feel him paint your walls white, something hot and warm and sticky filling up your cunt. If your nails didn’t leave marks before, well, they had to by now.

It’s only when you feel it drip out of you that you finally pull back from the kiss.The both of you are panting, visibly exhausted, though you’re pretty sure Jungkook can still run a lap around the club, while you’re all ready to collapse on the floor. Fuck, where does he get all that stamina from?

“I work out at the gym.” The amusement visible in his eyes as he answers you tells you that you probably spoke out loud. Sheesh.

“Yeah, you were.” Jungkook’s chuckle brings your attention back to him, and you blush for the first time since a while now, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder. Honestly, if you tried to move right now, you don’t doubt you’d just lay down on the floor, so you opt to remain in his hold.

That decision definitely wasn’t influenced by how secure you felt in his arms, or how good he smelt, even after you both just had sex.

His chuckles turn into laughter- and you’re only dimly aware of it as he sets you down on a nearby sofa, grabbing a washcloth nearby to start wiping you off.

When you look down at him again- it’s as if he’s seamlessly switched back to the adorable guy you met earlier. Huge, doe eyes and bunny smile on display as he grins happily.

It’s then that you hear the door to the bar being clicked open, and you’re thrown back into reality. 

“If you’re done fucking on top of the bar, I think it’d be good if we officially wrap things up around here,” you see a blond man barge through, wearing a poker face despite the words that make even more heat rise up to your cheeks. The connotations of the sentence… you’ll ignore that.

“And I think that included your dick, but okay,” he eyes Jungkook warily. He looks at you for a brief moment, before clicking on his tongue as he shakes his head.

“Anyway, out of this place, both of you, before Seokjin-hyung threatens to kill me again for not being a good enough caretaker.”

“And what exactly were you doing while we were… in here, Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook raises a brow out of suspicion. 

“Sleeping. Now hurry up.”

Peals of laughter escape Jungkook, even as both your cheeks redden at being caught.

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook reassures him, before turning back to you. “Let me just finish up cleaning that mess, and we’ll get you home for real,” he tells you softly. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he lays you down to rest.

“Take a quick nap in the meantime, okay?”

Giggling under the blanket of the dark night, you run under the bright stars as the stars reign the heavens above your heads. With Jungkook hand in hand, you experience freedom like you’ve never felt before.

The gentle breeze of the cold wind at 2 am, in perfect contract to the feel of his warm hand enveloping yours is the sweetest sensation, one of accepting, letting go and moving forward.

You swear you’ve never laughed like you do when you dash through the abandoned streets of neighborhoods too hazy for you to remember in detail. His laugh rings in your ears like the song of an angel, a far cry from your own booming one that he still loves all the same. It’s beautiful, quiet, made for you two alone.

Reaching your apartment, Jungkook helps you into your adorable dragon onesie before tucking you into bed, the softest smile on his face. It hurts a little to leave you so quick, he wants to stay, he wants to spend the night beside you, but for tonight… maybe all that you have done so far is enough.

Maybe once morning arrives, the sunrise announces his fall. Maybe you won’t even remember him.

Thinking so, his trembling hand reaches out to cup your cheek.

Then he stops.

Goodnight, Y/N.

Morning comes. You groggily roll out of bed, heading straight for the kitchen to get yourself a cup of water. Your head is in shambles, too filled to think of anything more, too empty to think of anything less than the sticky note your eyes land on.

It’s stuck to the microwave that’s sitting on the counter, a stupidly lovable green note. Taking careful steps towards it, you peel it off to read what’s written, eyes widening a little.

‘here’s my number! call if you want :D

I also left some hangovers in here. 

make sure to eat them and stay safe~

hope to hear from you.                           xx JK.’

Your heart flutters in excitement and love for the note as you pull it close, hugging it as much as one could a sticky note. You smile softly, hand tracing the curves of the writing, the action all too sweet and unexpected. Running to get your phone that must be somewhere around here, you start to jump around in the search for it out of nervous elation.

There’s so much more you want to do with Jungkook, but - you just can’t wait to hear his gorgeous laugh again.

All rights reserved © 2020 kimtaejin. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed.

[nightingaelic]

Fallout 4 companions react to meeting Arcade Gannon?

Ever the curious neighbor, as soon as the sole survivor spotted the blonde, bespectacled man at the bar in the Dugout Inn, they drifted over and struck up a conversation. A drink or two later, the two were swapping tales about wasteland encounters, pointing at various holes in their travel clothes and pairing them up with fantastic backstories. When the sole survivor's companion finally swung open the door, they were given an inviting wave.

"Sit down!" the sole survivor encouraged them. "First round's on me. I'd like you to meet Arcade."

Cait: "Hiya handsome." Cait winked at the man in the lab coat and leaned on the bar. "I'm Cait. Never seen you around before. Where is it you're comin' from?"

"I, uh..." Arcade adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his wavy hair. "West of here. Nowhere in particular."

"A free spirit, then? Just passin' through?" Cait looked him up and down. "Think the Science! Center might be lookin' for a new egghead, if those clothes aren't just for show."

Arcade tugged on his outfit self-consciously. "I thought it might keep Commonwealth raiders from shooting me on sight, if they thought I was a doctor."

Cait bobbed her head in a noncommittal way. "Or they might see you as an easy target. That is, if they don't spot that plasma pistol you've got in your back pocket."

Codsworth: "Hello to you, sir!" Codsworth exclaimed, bobbing excitedly. "Codsworth, at your service. Might I say, it is a fine occasion to meet someone nowadays who appreciates the importance of good hygience and care for one's appearance."

"Thank you," Arcade said, with a somewhat quizzical glance at the sole survivor. "And you belong to..."

"Well, I belong to him just as much as he belongs to me," the sole survivor jumped in to explain.

Codsworth waved them off. "Not to worry, the conventional assumptions are not unwarranted. I am happy to accompany and assist in wasteland adventures as necessary. When not necessary, I typically clean the house."

Curie: "Monsieur Arcade," Curie purred, with the special enthusiasm she reserved for introductions. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. You can call me Curie. Have you been in Diamond City long?"

"Not long at all," Arcade replied, clearly intrigued by Curie's accent. “Parlez-vous français?"

"Oui, Monsieur!" Curie exclaimed. "Le français est si rare de nos jours. Où avez-vous appris?"

"Oh, um... des... des livres, principalement," Arcade stammered. "Books. It's not as good as my Latin, I'm sorry."

"Latin?" Curie switched gears instantly. "Etiam magis rara."

Arcade laughed. "Well, not where I'm from. Who are you? Linguists are practically unicorns, nowadays."

Curie sighed. "It is a long story. Perhaps we wait until Vadim brings the drinks, and we can compare notes?"

Danse: "Ad victoriam, Arcade." Paladin Danse shook the newcomer's hand with gusto. "Paladin Danse, with the Brotherhood of Steel."

Arcade's eyes narrowed. "Brotherhood of Steel?"

"That's correct, citizen," Danse replied proudly.

"Uh-huh." Arcade looked back to the sole survivor. "I had no idea they were in the area. Are you stationed in Diamond City?"

"Brotherhood operations are a strictly classified matter," Danse answered, furrowing his brow. "But our main base of operations is at the Boston airport, where the Prydwen is docked. You can't miss it."

"Well, that explains it." Arcade examined his drink, avoiding eye contact with the Paladin. "I didn't come in from the north. I'm sure it's a sight to see."

Deacon: "Nice to meet you." Deacon declined the handshake, instead crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. "Nice tan. Been on the road long?"

"Too long," Arcade replied, retracting his hand and returning the calculated look.

Deacon grinned. "Alright, I won't pry. Welcome to Diamond City. Did Vadim try to poison you yet?"

"You watch it, John Doe!" Vadim shot back from halfway down the bar. "Or I call the guards, see if you actually do work the midnight shift, ya?"

"You can walk down to Danny's sign-up sheet for shifts and check yourself!" Deacon's grin grew wider. "And I'll tend bar. We'll see who can do a better job of it."

Dogmeat: Dogmeat approached the man's open hand, which he gave a good sniff. Soap, hot dust, a whiff of plasma cartridges: Nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied, the dog opened his mouth to pant, tongue lolling, and accepted the scratch behind the ears.

Hancock: "Arcade, huh?" Hancock gave the man a winning smile and took one of the open stools. "I'm Hancock. First time in Diamond City? You're gonna love it here. Vadim and his brother really know how to knock you on the floor."

As if to demonstrate, Vadim delivered three shots of Bobrov's Best to the little group. "On the house," he offered. "Celebrating Mayor Hancock's newest business deal with yours truly."

Hancock threw his back, and when Arcade hesitated, he threw that shot back too. "Next one, buddy."

"Did he say Mayor Hancock?" Arcade asked. "Mayor of Diamond City?"

"Nah, nah." Hancock laughed. "God, wouldn't that be a riot. Ever hear of a town called Goodneighbor?"

MacCready: "Arcade." MacCready shook the man's hand warily. "Like the pre-war places that have a whole bunch of games inside them?"

"Actually, like the..." Arcade made a face. "You know what, never mind. Like the pre-war arcades, yeah."

"Oh, man." MacCready grinned. "There was this one I found once in the Capital Wasteland, mostly broken down of course, but it had one working machine in it. The Red Menace Whac-a-Commie. Someone took the whackers ages ago, but the little Red Menace guys still popped up and down. Duncan- my son- loved it."

Arcade chuckled. "Yeah, they're... they're fun. I found a Hoop Shot once, but the basketballs were all dried-up and flat."

"Gotta get yourself a Pip-Boy," MacCready replied, nudging the sole survivor's shoulder affectionately. "This one has a collection of mini-games for theirs. Atomic Command, Grognak & the Ruby Ruins, Pipfall... all the greats. Oh, I'm MacCready, by the way."

Valentine: "Nick Valentine. Pleased to meet you." Nick shook the man's extended hand with practiced warmth, giving him time to realize the metal grasp he offered was not a cybernetic, and the scar around his jawline was actually just where his synthetic skin ended.

True to form, the stranger's eyebrows shot up, his grip slackened and his mouth dropped open. "You're a... what are you?"

Nick gave him the standard line. "I'm a detective. But, if you're referring to the plastic and platinum bits, I'm also a synthetic man. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells."

"Whoa." Instead of the typical scramble to put some distance between the two of them, Nick was surprised to find Arcade's handshake tighten again at this explanation. "I've heard of people like you, but never thought I'd actually meet one. Er, well, one that was obviously living as a synth. Though I guess you don't have much of a choice, huh?"

Piper: "Arcade? Piper Wright." The reporter shook the newcomer's hand firmly. "So, what's your story? What brings you to the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth?"

"I uh..." Arcade looked flustered, despite Piper's encouraging smile.

The sole survivor came to his defense. "Leave him be, Piper, he just got into town," they scolded playfully.

"What?" Piper asked innocently. "Can't the town reporter ask questions around here without everyone telling me I'm being too nosy?"

"No."

"Town reporter?" Arcade perked up. "Is that your newspaper, on the way in? Public... something?"

"Publick Occurrences," Piper answered with pride. "Covering anything and everything worth hearing about that happens in the Commonwealth."

Preston: "Welcome to Diamond City, Arcade." Preston shook the man's hand warmly. "I'm Preston Garvey with the Commonwealth Minutemen."

"Minutemen?" Arcade asked, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

"We're citizen soldiers," Preston explained. "The people of the Commonwealth banding together to protect ourselves and decide our own future."

"So sort of like a free state?" Arcade straightened up. "Or do you have some kind of command structure?"

"Command structure." Preston chuckled and glanced at the sole survivor. "You're looking at it."

Strong: "Strong need to get moving," the super mutant replied, rubbing his big hands together. "Milk of human kindness not here."

Arcade took the mutant in with the air of someone who had dealt with somewhat-friendly specimens before. "I can ask the bartender if they have brahmin milk."

The sole survivor waved him off. "No, that's not what he-"

"Puny humans do not have milk!" Strong cut in.

"Wait, milk of human kindness?" Arcade looked confused. "Is that... Macbeth?"

The sole survivor sighed. "It's a long story."

X6-88: "Good afternoon." Rather than sit down, X6-88 adopted a protective stance of the sole survivor, completely ignoring the hand Arcade was offering. "I hope you know that if harm comes to this individual, your life will come to a swift end."

"Uh-huh." Arcade retracted his hand. "Bodyguard?"

"Of a sort."

Arcade turned to the sole survivor instead. "Is he always this much of a stick in the mud?"

They shrugged. "He's protective and slow to trust. Give him a bit and keep your hands where he can see them, you'll be fine."

X6-88 nodded. "Affirmative."

BONUS!

Ada: "Hello sir." Ada nodded her head in greeting. "I am Ada. I hope you are enjoying your stay in Diamond City. Did you experience any trouble getting to the stadium?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Arcade replied. "Sorry, you're an amalgamation I haven't seen before. Sentry bot and protectron parts for sure, but your head is..."

"An assaultron," Ada filled in helpfully. "I take it your region does not have many of these bots?"

"No, they seem to be more of an East Coast thing."

"Just don't get on her bad side," the sole survivor joked. "You don't want to be on the receiving end of an assaultron laser."

Gage: "Well hi there!" Porter shook Arcade's hand forcefully. "Porter Gage. Talked you into trying some of this swill, did they? Brave soul."

"It's not so bad," Arcade replied with a smirk.

"Oh sure, if you're lucky enough to have Scarlett bring it to you." Porter winked at the waitress, who paused in her service to flip him the bird.

"Mmm, not my type," Arcade admitted.

"Not your ty-" Porter blurted before putting two and two together. "Oh, gotcha. Well, there's always Hawthorne."

The raider waved to the adventurer in the corner, who waved back. Arcade sank as deeply into his stool as he could and blushed.

Longfellow: "Mmm." Old Longfellow rejected Arcade's handshake and took the offered seat, swinging around to face the bar. "Storm's comin' soon. Can smell it."

"Then it's a good thing we're inside," Arcade replied, his tone unsure.

Longfellow grunted his agreement and accepted the drink Vadim slid to him, downing it quickly.

The sole survivor scowled at him. "Guess he's not in a talkative mood today."

Maxson: "Elder Arthur Maxson of the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Maxson shook Arcade's hand confidently.

Arcade, on the other hand, looked like he was being violently pulled between an instinct to flee and an intense curiosity. Curiosity won out. "Maxson? Of the line of Captain Roger Maxson?"

"High Elder Roger Maxson," the Elder corrected him. "You know of him?"

"Well sure, everybody on the West Co-" Arcade stopped himself. "Never mind. What's an Elder doing in a dive like this?"

Maxson studied him intently, clearly sizing him up. "Shore leave," he finally answered, sliding into the offered seat.

Desdemona: Desdemona smiled coolly. "I know."

The answer took Arcade aback, but the sole survivor just rolled their eyes. "Dispense with the power plays for once, Dez. We're just trying to have a drink."

The Railroad leader raised an eyebrow, but she sat down. "Suit yourself. When did you arrive in town, Mr. Gannon?"

"Oh, for the love of..."

Arcade eyed her suspiciously. "I don't remember telling you my full name."

Desdemona lit up a cigarette. "You didn't. But I'm by far the friendliest person in the Commonwealth who's wondering why a Follower of the Apocalypse is all the way out here, across the continent."

[chudleycanonficfest]

Air

Our first story on Day 1 comes to you by @zurisenchantedquill !

Title: Air Author/Artist: zurimadison Pairing: Romione, side Hinny Prompt: Rock Concert Rating: Teen, borderline Mature? Trigger Warning(s) (if any): bit of snogging :)

Full disclosure, I was inspired by the song "Stay Next to Me" by Quinn XCII and Chelsea Cutler

______

Ron

“You have ten minutes,” Ginny says, smacking her gum as she stares at me. “Harry will be here soon.”

I don’t move from my seat on the couch. “So let me get this straight, not only are you forcing me into going to this concert tonight, but you also invited your boyfriend to my flat?”

“You like Harry.” She checks her phone. “Nine minutes.”

I do like Harry, but I’m not going to admit that to her right now. I try a change of tactics. “I had plans tonight, Gin. You can’t just show up unannounced and expect me to drop everything to go out with you.”

“Laundry is not a plan, Ron,” she says, texting furiously as she plops on the other end of the couch. “Mum says I need to get you out of the house because you’ve been moping since your breakup, and I knew that if I gave you warning, you’d find an excuse to bail.”

I can’t help but wince, reminded of both the recent end to my relationship and the correct assumption that I’m hiding away because of it. “I just need some me-time right now.”

She looks at me, cheek lit by her phone screen, and smirks. “Eight minutes.”

Whoever said Weasleys are pushovers has never met my little sister.

Actually, probably no one has ever said that.

I sigh and stand, making my way to my bedroom to change.

“Comb your hair or something, while you’re at it,” she calls. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks Gin,” I yell back, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sheesh, she wasn’t kidding. 

Seven minutes later, dressed and groomed enough to be presentable, I set off down the road with my sister and her boyfriend. 

“Go on then, who are we seeing tonight?”

“The Black Keys,” Harry answers, grinning. “I’ve been dying to see them for ages.”

I’ve never heard of them before, so I ask, “what kind of music is that? Rock?”

“Technically, more Indie Rock,” Ginny answers, and I can’t stop the small snort that escapes me. She shoots a glare that very clearly warns me not to take the mickey, so I hold my arms up defensively and clear my throat.

“Oh, sounds...erm, fun.” It’s lame, but Harry nods and starts rambling about his favorite songs. For all my trouble, Ginny graces me with an approving quirk of her eyebrow. Thanks Sis. 

The venue is close to my flat, so it isn’t long before we’re through the doors, pushing our way into the crowd. 

It feels like even less time before Ginny is snogging Harry, their bodies swaying in time to the music as her drink slops unnoticed on their shoes. They break apart every now and then to sing a lyric or two, then they’re right back at it.

I try to ignore it as I down my beer, but the venue is so congested that I’m constantly jostled into them. Not that they even seem to notice, mind you, but as much as I don’t care what Ginny does on her own time, it’s another thing entirely to literally have it shoved into my face. 

My bottle is devastatingly empty, so I mutter an excuse and snake away through the crowd, not finding it at all dispersed as I move further from the stage. I spot a bar in the back corner and fight my way over to it, feeling like a hero returning home after battle when I’m able to place my order with the bartender. 

It happens as I’m waiting for my beer. I glance down the length of the bar, more out of idleness than anything else, and I see her. 

She’s got dark curly hair that’s highlighted with honey, a red strapless dress that could bring a man to his knees, and, unless I’m much mistaken, she’s holding a book in one of her hands as she leans across the bar to be heard above the music.

I am struck with the impulse to know the color of her eyes. 

She seems to be alone, and is the only person in the venue actually sitting on a stool. I’m not altogether surprised when, after receiving her drink, she opens her book. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn't notice the people bustling around her. She doesn’t even look up when the bartender hands a drink to someone over her head. 

It takes me two more beers, alone in the corner, watching this woman who has such impressive focus, before I work up my nerve. There’s a small opening in the crowd, so I decide it's now or never and throw myself through it. I slip to her side and deliver the almighty line that I’d been working on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

I honestly expect her to ignore me or maybe genuinely not hear me, but to my surprise, she looks right at me. 

Brown. Her eyes are chestnut brown, with a dark ring around the outside. They appraise me before the corners of her round lips turn upwards almost imperceptibly. “Treasure Island.” She has to shout to be heard above the music.

“No way,” I exclaim, bemused. “That’s one of the few books I’ve actually read! Isn’t it crazy that Ben had the treasure the whole time?”

“He what?” Her eyes go wide as she gazes at me, slack jawed. “Seriously?”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I ask, clapping a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Just kidding,” she interrupts me, then begins to giggle at what I can only assume is my idiotic expression. “I’ve read this a million times.”

Her laugh is infectious, and I silently swear to make her do as much of it as I can. I lean against my forearm on the bar and turn sideways so I can view her better. Something about the way she’s looking up at me makes me feel brave. “What’s your name?” 

“Hermione.”

“Ron.” I extend my hand. She slips her tiny palm into mine. I shake it, but then I don’t let go. 

A drunk patron knocks into me, pushing me closer to her. I can almost see down her dress, I’m standing so close. “It’s too crowded in here,” she shouts as she glances over her shoulder. “So many random bodies pressed together.”

“We should go somewhere.” I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but I don’t mind it when she rewards me with a tiny smile.

“Where? Outside?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Your choice. I’ll follow you.”

She surveys me, looking as though she’s deciding. “Aren’t you going to miss the show?” 

“No,” I laugh. “I don’t know this band at all.”

“Me neither,” she admits. She’s nearly knocked off her stool by a surge of the crowd around us, and this seems to seal the deal. “Ok, let’s go.” She stands and winds through the crowd, never releasing my hand. 

_____

Hermione

I lead my tall, red headed stranger to the back patio, feeling instant relief in the cool night air as we step over the threshold. The music is much less loud out here, and it’s not as crowded. I drop his hand as I perch myself on the patio railing, sighing in contentment as my overstimulated senses are satisfied by the calming change in environment.

Ron flags a server for us, so I take the opportunity to examine him while he orders. He’s broad in the shoulders but narrow in the hips, though the shape is flattering in the way his t-shirt pulls across his chest. From underneath the material on his left arm, a full sleeve of tattoos runs enticingly to his wrist, leaving me with a burning desire to see the obscured designs. 

Tattooed and bearded. Just how I like 'em.

The server leaves and he turns his gaze back to me, reminding me of the thing so far that I like the most about him.

His eyes.

They’re almost turquoise-y blue, and seem to ripple like water. That alone would be sexy enough, but there’s something about the way they make me feel. They’re...kind.

He leans his back against the railing where I’m sitting, close enough that my leg is brushing his arm. “So, did you come to this show tonight because you like a little background music while you read?” 

I laugh. “No, my friends dragged me here with them, but I lost track of them pretty much the moment we arrived. Hence, this.” I hold up my book. “What about you? You said you don’t know the band either.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “I was also forced to come out tonight. But, I don’t fancy watching my sister snog her boyfriend all evening so…” He shrugs. His hair moves gently in the night breeze.

“Well look at us,” I say. “A couple of third wheels.”

The server comes back with the drinks: two shots of whiskey and two beers. I thank him as I take mine, and Ron raises his shot glass.

“Left your boyfriend at home, then?” He’s holding the whiskey expectantly, smirking while he waits for my answer.

I roll my eyes. “Very subtle.”

“Oh, you saw what I did there?”

“I did, believe it or not.” I hold my whiskey out as well. “To being single?”

It’s phrased as a question, and there’s a triumphant sparkle in his eye as he clicks his glass against mine. “To being single.”

“Cheers.” We throw back the shot. The alcohol hums just under my skin.

Ron doesn’t return to his previous position, but instead stands in front of me so that his stomach is against my knees. He places his free hand on the outside of my bare thigh, sending tingles down my spine. He meets my eye for a moment, as though asking if I mind, and in response I lean forward and place my free hand on his chest. 

The full, lopsided smile I receive in return is worth it.

“What do you do for a living, Hermione?” His voice is gravelly now.

“I’m in microbiology,” I answer. “I work in a lab.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle. “Smart and beautiful.”

I laugh again. “What about you?”

“I’m a nurse,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I work in the ICU.”

Somehow I understand the kindness in his eyes even more. I’m so distracted by looking into them that I accidentally spill some beer all over my lap. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

“Watch yourself,” he says, laughing as he grabs a napkin and dabs off my legs. “Why is your drink so full anyway?” 

“Yours is just as full,” I argue, offering my beer as evidence.

He looks between our two glasses and shrugs. “Maybe, but I can drink faster, so it doesn’t count.”

“How do you know that?” I demand, holding the beer up now as a challenge. “Chugging contest?”

His grin is evil and beautiful. “You’re on.”

“Three, two…” We both begin to drink as quickly as we can, though it becomes apparent to me that I’m quite outclassed. His Adam’s apple bobs distractingly and I reach out, tracing my finger down it before I can stop myself.

I freeze, my hand again on his chest, fingers grazing the skin above his neckline. When I meet his eye, he puts his glass on the railing and steps between my legs, wrapping his arms around me to bury his hands in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

The way he feels is so distracting that I drop my own glass, still half full, on the outside of the patio, where it spills in the grass. I’m sure we could get kicked out of the venue for that, but right now I don’t care. I kiss my new friend Ron for all I’m worth. He tastes like whiskey and every flick of his talented tongue ignites tiny fires all over my body. 

We snog for I don’t know how long, until we’re forced to come up for air. He doesn’t step away from me, but keeps his face close to mine as we pant. 

“I can’t waste another second here, can you?” His whisper tickles my cheek.

I run the analysis, weighing my options even as my head spins from the snog. I grip his arms tighter. “We should go somewhere.”

His lopsided smile takes my breath away.

[insufferablelust]

Little Butterfly I (Sugar Daddy Mob Boss!Spencer Reid x Reader AU)

Warnings: Part 1 of an ongoing series (that i hopefully won’t abandon), Upcoming heavy violence, Mafia and Crime related fic, Spencer is a soft dom but is dangerous, HEAVY SMUT, upcoming dark kinks (Gun,Knife,Bondage etc), daddy kink for sure, Manipulation kink, Degradation, Humiliation (yknow the drill with me) spoiling kink?, upcoming murders etc, heavy topic regarding mental illness, College legal age!Reader, Age gap, older!Spencer, Mean!Spencer, BDSM themed, Indication of Subspace, Just heavily dark smutty series (yet again lmao) 

Hello, my wonderful readers, i want to thank you all for the patience you all have for this series, hopefully i can stick to schedule an update this once a week like Thrilled. This will be a new territory for me since all i know about mafia and such are from the movies and countless books my father has inherited me with, so i deeply apologize if there’re some mistakes, this is an AU that means its only a story and fantasy. If you are uncomfortable to violence and sex then PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. Thank you, and Happy Reading. 

This series will set around the 80′s New York.

MASTERLIST HERE

There is no hiding from the absolute luxury you indulge in, in fact you love showing it to whoever might want to pry deep enough into your life. You caused no harm by it, and it certainly isn’t anybody’s business but yours and his.

The pair of arms around your waist is a certain remainder of who you belong to, and you loved it. He looked good tonight, almost too good with the suit adorning his perfection like an absolute genius adonis— your genius adonis. You feel your cheeks heats up slightly as he glanced at you, knowing just how shy you get around so many people— his little girl is sensitive after all.

Spencer Reid knows every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what makes you snap, what makes you bow in submission to him, and what makes you feel heavenly. He knows it all, he knows the way you trembled slightly whenever he wrapped his arms around your neck as he leaned down to kiss you, or how squirmy you get whenever he tug your hair, said your name calmly whilst shoving his fingers into your mouth— he knows everything.

—

It was a mutual agreement at first, living on 80’s New York has never been so stressful during your 20’s, all the student loans, the bartending you do sometimes, even the couple of scandalous photoshoots you sacrificed yourself doing to keep your bank account afloat. Your family never really cared much, and the only person that you truly have is Emily, your roommate.The whole ordeal was strange when you found out Emily’s ties to the mafia, being the daughter of one of the strongest mafia’s capo on America during that time. You wondered how on earth she has managed to doesn’t want to get on her father’s good side, and just except the riches that comes along with being a mob, but then again you were a stranger to it too...or so you thought.

The night she asked you to accompany her to meet her father and his boss, you shrugged and said yes, having nothing to do in the apartment other than wallowing in your own debts and sadness— you immediately agrees which put a smile on her cute face.

“I thought you didn’t want nothing to do with your father.” You asked as you raked through the closet to find something... ‘elegant’ but not too much, it’s going to be in a lavish restaurant after all. Your eyes darted to Emily’s who has been staring at her phone, smiling to whoever is texting her— you could only assumed it was one of her secret girlfriend-hookup for the week.

“Well i didn’t but money is tight, fucking inflation.” She looked up for once, lips hanging open at the sight of you standing there in a black dress, short with a slit on the thigh area— looking absolutely ravenous. “Holy fucking shit.” Emily whispered.

“What? is this enough? god i feel like such a prude.” You bit your lip as you await her comments, “You look fucking gorgeous you idiot, i mean are you sure you aren’t gay by any chance?” She laughed, which caused you to giggle, “I never said i’m not gay.. just that i’m not—

“Interested in dating, yeah yeah but we can at least fuck or something.” She jokingly raised her eyebrows as you throw your bra her way and laughed, “I just don’t want to get distracted em, especially that we live together.” You pouted before giving her a kiss on the cheek, which made her roll her eyes and smile.

Only if you knew what this meeting will entails.

—

The wine tasted exquisite on your tongue, the sweet burn of merlot was pleasant on the base of your throat which shocked you at first— maybe you should stop buying cheap wines, because the real ones are heavenly. You looked around nervously, it has been a long time since you’ve gone out to have dinner, let alone one as expensive as this.

“Stop looking like you’re about to die.” Emily whispers as she took the seat next to you, which you humorously giggle and swat her shoulder, “I’m not. It’s just.. new to me is all.” You nervously chuckled, before sipping on your wine some more. It was clear that her dad and his so called mob boss were late— which you rolled your eyes since Emily was basically rushing your make up, you just hoped that you looked decent enough, not that you want to impress anyone, its just good to feel like you’ve fit yourself to the occasion.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it.” Emily chuckled, before you could even process what she meant by that the sound of a soft elderly timbre rang through your ears, “Cara mia! Jesus, you’ve grown!” Emily slapped your thigh softly, gesturing for you to stand up.

Dear heaven, lord save your knees from buckling.

You watched as Emily greeted her father as you stood by her side, she kisses him on both cheeks as they made a small conversation that you pay no mind to since you were distracted, distracted by the pair of eyes that caught yours from the moment he walked in.

A soft yet stern eyes that held yours captive at this very moment, a presence that demands every single person for its attention, and intimidating like no other. A man, a finely sculpted man, standing in front of you in an attire that you were sure was more expensive than your whole closet, His soft looking curls marvelously falls fo his side, his plump lips were begging to be kissed— to be listened, to be heard, his tall lean figure towers over you which has you gulping down nervously— so much so that you failed to acknowledged the presence of Emily’s father calling your name.

“Y/N!” You let out a gasp before turning to shake Emily’s father’s hand, trying your best to smile as you glanced over the towering man, “So this is the Y/N i’ve heard so much about huh?” The old man snickered, looking gentle whilst maintaining a facade still. You giggled softly, “I hope there are all good things, nice to meet you Mr.Prentiss.”

“Oh please, Robert is fine. Oh Emily, Y/N this is don Reid.” He stepped back in.. what looks like an utter fear, you gasped as you realized that this is.. the mob boss Emily talked about, the masochistically handsome man you’ve been staring at— you thought a mafia boss would be someone older, but this is certainly not the case.

“Pleased to meet you both, Spencer Reid.” He extended his hand which Emily gladly took before she nudges your side whilst you were still gawking at the man, the soft yet deep timbre of his voice soothes and intimidate you at the same time, not to mention how he carries himself— practically saying he’s a god.

“Oh— um yes hello, pleased to meet you, i’m Y/N.” You bit your lip as you feel your cheeks hurt from the embarrassment, shaking his hand quickly— before you could even imagine pulling away, he gives you an amused chuckle and squeeze your hand tightly before releasing you.

“Well, let’s take a seat shall we?”

You are so fucking fucked.

--

“So, Y/N, Emily told me you’re majoring in art department, how’re you liking it?” Robert spoke as you eat your pasta slowly, trying not to show how you were trembling under the very same gaze that held you captive from the moment it arrives here. You gulped down a delicious bite of pancetta, before answering, “Oh i love it, always been my passion— well painting is, but i do love everything about art and literature.” You chuckled.

“I would love to see your art sometimes.” The voice could strangle you and you’d die happily, it really could— you glanced at the man whose been looking at you like a wolf to its prey, fingers skimming over the feet of the wine glass as a soft yet eloquent smile strikes over his face.

“Oh um, it’s not— it’s not that good, i wouldn’t want to waste your time.” You choked on your wine, feeling the burn on your throat as he let out a humorous-less laugh, shaking his head, before bringing his lean fingers to his lips. “Nothing is wasteful, not if it comes to such art like you.”

What?

“Huh?” You felt small, your cheeks heated at the reference as you tried so hard not to squirm and praised yourself by hearing what you thought you heard. Your eyes darted to his in a shy manner as he kept his composure well, licking the rim of his glass before sipping his wine gently.

“Anyways! dad, shall we talk a bit more private? i’m sure Y/N can keep the don company.” You gasped at Emily’s words, still barely grasping the previous encounter— the bottom of your heel jab at her left foot, as you glared at her, “Of course of course, don?” Robert spoke up, eyes lowering as his body turned to look at the smirking masterpiece that still stares at you with the same intensity.

“Go. We’ll be fine, won’t we angel?” You gulped down as much wine as you could without burning your throat before smiling nervously, eyes glancing back and forth to The Don and Emily.

“Y-Yes um sure.” You offered a gentle smile, even though your heels jabbed Emily’s which yet again resulted in her tiny laugh before she walks away to the back area of the restaurant.

The area was thick with intensity and glamorous lights, adding to the headache that already starts due to you being a lightweight around alcohol. Suddenly you realized, that you’re practically alone— with the don of the biggest mafia ring in America. “Go ahead and ask me the question.” He murmured sternly, causing your ears to perk at the sudden thrill that made your goosebumps rose and thrived under the shimmering lights.

“Pardon?” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your dress as you tried so hard not to stare at the huge man, feeling as if you’re being cornered by a lion, and you his prey.

“Your cheeks are warm aren’t they? you keep biting your lips every time i muttered a word, you can’t even look at me because you know that the second you do, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Emily is right, you’re a pure little thing, its fucking cute really. If this table weren’t here separating us, you’d be across my lap already— for wearing something so slutty like that.” By the time he finishes taunting you, you stopped breathing, thigh squeezing against each other so tightly that you could feel how damp your panties are getting.

“Go ahead and ask, doll. Surely you can’t be dumb enough to think i would just allow anyone to meet me let alone a little college student like you.” His eyebrow lifted, as you nervous squirmed on your seat and breathed out.

“Why did you asked her to bring me?”

“Nicely. You know better, Y/N.”

“Sir...”

—

And the rest was history, the pair of arms around your waist tighten as the owner’s lips caress and nip at the very sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shudder and mewls. “mmh.. t-too early.” You complained, fully knowing that would only amuse him even more.

He chuckled as you had predicted, nimble fingers grazing up and down your front like feathers, delicately worshipping every inch of your skin. The blaring sound of New York’s traffic was prominent, but somehow that adds a thrilling aspect for you, months ago— you were picking up morning shifts by now, working your ass off just to gain enough cash to pay this month’s rent. But now, here you are, in the arms of the most feared yet young powerful don in the entirety of the mob community, Heck if everyone knows who he is and how much power he holds— they’d all fear him, but not you, not his fiery little butterfly.

“Shh, let me love on you a little.” Your heart warmed, familiar feeling of a thousand butterflies swarming on your belly caused your cheeks to warmed at the gesture. He said things like those often, though he made it perfectly clear that you were, you are only here for business arrangements, you knew he likes to toy over affection like this— one you aren’t supposed to get attached to. But how couldn’t you? when his hand so softly glides down the curve of your godly features, warm breath fanning across your skin from behind, whispering sweet words.

“Look so pretty for me, butterfly.” He whispered, causing you to yet again whimpers, hand clutching the sheets tightly as he moves down down down until he turned you over and settle between your legs, smiling at you. “If heaven is real, you’re definitely it.” He nipped and bit the exposed skin of your thighs, last night and the night before and before still there but like he said,

“If you agree to the terms, i’ll give you every damn thing you fucking want. Your bills, rents, loans, plus each and every single thing you wished to buy.”

“And in retur—“

“In return, you will be mine, mine to have whenever wherever i want, you won’t be my chained slave or nothing, but you’ll be mine.”

So marked you again and again he did, tearing your satin panties he did, panties that cost more than a week worth of luxury meal that he only grunted with “I’ll buy the whole fucking store, now shut up and let daddy eat his breakfast.”

You swore you’re in god’s heaven then and there, even if you aren’t sure that you believe in one, you can’t help but to think that this is some kind of miracle, your life is, here you have a perfect adonis, suckling on your clit as his fingers pump your delectable cunt in and out with such a fast pace that made you feel all floaty and flustered. The same man that commands the room whenever he walks in, the same man who pay all your bills, the same man who bought you a new lavish apartment and hands you gifts every damn day.

“Oh! oh please daddy right there..” You moaned out loud as your fingers latched onto his hair, softly tug on them as he moaned against your drippy cunt and suck your clit even harder,earning a particularly loud and lewd moan from you. “mmh! a-ah! i’m gonna—“ He held his finger up then, eyes finding yours as his mouth continues to work on your now sensitive clit. Spencer wasn’t too strict or nothing about your rules but if there’s two that he’s strict about is for you to cum only if he gives you permission— no matter the place or time, if he wants you to cum, you’ll cum— not that it’s hard, with someone as skilled as him.

When you begged and begged, he slapped your thigh only to grunt darkly, “If you can’t shut up and let daddy enjoys this, i’ll fucking take you on the balcony and fuck you for all Manhattan to see. Do you want that, Butterfly? want everyone to see what a filthy college girl you are getting fucked by someone as dangerous as me?” He slapped your cunt then, over and over again as you pant, and mewls.. Body jolts and pulsed at his ministration.

“You’re going to cum like this—“ He paused to spit directly onto your swollen clit, watching it wet the sensitive nub, “Going to cum with daddy slapping your greedy little cunt. Or you are not getting an orgasm.”

“Yes, daddy— oh!” True to his words, he spank you, over and over again, leaving you quivering and brokenly cried at the burning pleasure, “Cum princess, come on, you surely know how to thank daddy don’t you?” Your hole clenched around nothing as you arch your back and sobbed,

“Can’t— daddy please i-“

“You were so fucking desperate to cum, why not now huh? your sensitive cunt surely looks wrecked enough.” He scoffed before he spank your clit so hard you jumped at the sensation before he licked his fingers and caress your clit in fast fanning motion, not giving you enough time to even breathe as your cunt pulses and throb with overwhelming need of release, building up up up, up until you finally trembled and cum all over the bed— an orgasm so intense that you blacked out for few seconds straight.

“Shh.. shh good girl, that’s it— fuck you look so ethereal like this, butterfly.” He muses as he settle his head on your lap and admire your pulsing body, “T-Thank- y-you.. daddy.” You gathered all the strength you have left as he smiled proudly.

Your head laid on his chest as you both cuddle in silence, trying to enjoy the serenity and calm environment around you as the city below you buzzed all round. It was calming for awhile before his phone rang and you involuntarily sighs, “I know pretty girl, i know.” He muttered, before smiling apologetically- Not that he needs to.. Business arrangements, not like you’re his girlfriend or nothing.

love on you,

love on you,

let me love on you,

You forced your fuzzy subby mind to get the thoughts out, as you watched his figure put on his robe, and leaned down, “I’ll be back later okay, don’t forget to check your phone.” He kissed your forehead for a bit, letting it linger as you held back your tears, wishing he could stay with you, you need your daddy, you really really do need him now. Feeling all small and fuzzy like this. But with the blaring noise of his ringtone, you knew the don has business to take care of and of course you’re not important enough to held such important task to be left.

So you smiled all nicely and kissed all the rings finger on his fingers before bidding a tiny whimper of, “Best of luck, don.” Your head bowed a little in respect as he noticed the true and true sadness flashed across your eyes, but paid it no mind as his other burner phone blared.

“Thank you, Butterfly. Get dressed soon, and i’ll have Morgan bringing you that sandwich from the deli you love so much. I’ll see you soon.”

Oh how nice would it be if this is your life, but life doesn’t always have a happy ending after all.

——

Comment or send me a message if you want to be added to this series taglist!

[lustbile-archive]

Just Check It Out

JaehyunxReader

Word Count: 6.7k

Summary/Warnings: Smut. Oral (reader receiving), public-ish sex, flirty but also suspicious stranger!Jaehyun, sharp object and blood play/consumption, and honestly low key shitty friends.

Apart of the Club X series: Masterlist

Can be read on its own or within the series.

Your face is screwed up and your nails dig harshly into the palms of your hands in anxiety as you stare at the hollow looking building in front of you. The only signs of life is the red light that pulses and radiates from underneath the entrance door, and the taunting laughter that rattles from behind you deep from the bellies of your two friends.

“What are you, a scaredy cat?” one of your friends asks as she reaches forward to pinch your arm, “just go in.”

“What are you, a twelve year old?” you rebut, your tone a lot more clipped and harsh than you wanted, but the fear crawling up your spine fogs your judgment.

“What happened to a warehouse?” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but the sounds of confusion from behind you tells you they had heard.

“What are you going on about a warehouse?” your other friend takes her turn questioning you, her tone slightly more concerned than the other.

“What do you mean going on about a warehouse?” your voice is shrill as you turn so quickly it made you slightly dizzy, your jaw dropping and your eyebrows furrowing immediately in shock and confusion, “you two heard what that weirdo taxi driver said. He dropped that person off and picked them up from a warehouse. A warehouse! Not some weird ass club.”

The story that the skeevy old man had told you and your friends ran through your mind still. Something about how he had picked up and dropped off the same person every few weekends during his shift, but one night, when he definitely remembered dropping them off, he never got the call to take them home.

“Oh come on so what,” your first friend speaks again, her voice louder than necessary as you started to pace back and forth in front of them, “like you just said, he was just some weirdo old taxi driver. The story probably isn’t even true and if it was he probably didn’t notice that it was a club cause he was too busy trying to figure out how to kidnap the person.”

“Yeah cause that makes me feel so much better,” your stepping slows slightly as you respond, your eyes rolling so hard they ache, “and why is it me that has to go in in the first place huh?”

“Because you suck at rock, paper, scissors.”

You can’t stop yourself when you petulantly stomp your foot, a wash of shame and nerves washing over you immediately after as you cross your arms over your chest. The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong. Whatever force in the universe that was looking down, or up, at you tonight had it out for you, and it only took about three rounds of the hand game before you lost to both of the girls in front of you.

“Listen,” the a lot more gentle friend of the two started, wrapping her arms gently around your stiff form, “just go in, take a look around, and then come back. We’ll be right here waiting, and if it’s cool we’ll all go in.”

‘Or you could just come with me,’ you think to yourself, but something clogs your throat, forcing the words to remain swirling in your chest.

“Fine,” you let yourself sink into her hold for a few seconds, before you start to wiggle free. She smiles softly at the way you pout, and an evil part of you anticipates guilt tripping both of them when you escape the creepy building, “but if you’re even an inch away from this exact spot when I get back you’re dead.”

Their grumbles of ‘yeahs’ and ‘okay whatever’s’ is lost behind you as you teeter on the edge of the sidewalk. You only allow yourself a moment to wonder how a night out with friends devolved into you entering a strange club, before your looking both ways and crossing the street.

You can only imagine how silly you look as you sprint across the road, a nervous skip in your step from the lack of a crosswalk beneath your feet, and when you land on the sidewalk again you’re slightly winded from the anxiety that pumps in you.

The door and the building is about a thousand times more intimidating now that you stand in front of it, the entrance grinning at you like a hungry monster. You can feel the stares of your friends eating at the skin of your back as you stand there curled into yourself, and a warmth spreads across your skin in embarrassment when you notice two men standing to the side, at a front row seat to you shaking like a leaf.

There’s a moment of relief when you see that they don’t seem to notice you, too busy scrolling through their respective phones while one nurses a cigarette. But this relief does nothing to truly calm you of the fact that you have to enter the building marked as “Club X” or face the taunting of your friends. And while you are an adult and the childishness of the jeers from your peers shouldn’t phase you, them questioning your confidence isn’t something you’d like to deal with.

With a deep breath, you stand straight. ‘It’s one drink and a look around’ you remind yourself, ‘you shouldn’t be nervous it’s just a club and you’re an adult.’

From your own scolding you start to come to your senses that yes, there’s no reason to be scared, and without even thinking about it, you notice that your feet have already started carrying you through the threshold.

The red lighting is bright and darkens the writhing bodies that occupy the huge club. If it wasn’t for the thumping bass of music, you could have easily convinced yourself that you stand in the beginning of a horror house, and amongst all the normal club goers was a masked man holding a knife waiting for you to let your guard down for even a second.

‘A drink,’ the quiet voice in your head reminds you, and with a quick glance around to locate the bar, you're pushing through the masses of flesh and sweat to get just that.

You also remember that you're here to take a look around.

It’s a normal club from the looks of it. Too many bodies pressed too close together, a less than inviting restroom tucked in the back corner, the back of the large room littered with booths full of people drinking and yelling over the music. The music itself pumps from huge speakers that stand in front of a short elevated stage, a man standing behind a dj booth controls exactly what pours from the speakers as a group of rambunctious men drink and roughhouse behind him.

Right before you reach the bar, is when you notice something you didn’t fully expect. Towards the back, and high up on the wall, there was a balcony. There was a singular chair, large enough to hold a person and then some, and a large potted plant that branches out so far that it’s vines wrap and devour the railing beautifully, but other than that, nothing. There’s a heavy looking curtain hiding whatever room the balcony connects to, and directly below it is a hollow looking hallway with a thick rope blocking it from the general club goer.

You’re so distracted by the odd sight, you don’t realize how close to the bar you had gotten before you hip bumps harshly into one of its stools. You can’t stop the quiet yelp that leaves you from the quick shock of pain, but even worse is the hiss that escapes the teeth of the young man that stands behind the worn wood of the bar. Even in your regained embarrassment and warmed cheeks you’re able to form the thought that the guy who glances at you with gentle sympathy looks a little young for a bartender.

“Um, can I,” you stutter slightly as you take a seat in the offending stool, praying you can fake confidence enough to smother your embarrassment, “can I get a drink, please?”

“Oh um,” the boy matches your stuttering as he appears just as flustered as you at what happened, “I’m gonna be honest, um the actual bartender had to step away for a moment to uhhh… attend to something. So the best I can give you is like a beer.”

“That should be fine,” you sink slightly in relief and endearment as his own nervous state works to release you from your own.

He moves to step away from you, before you quickly interrupt, “oh don’t you need my id or something?”

“Oh yeah,” he blanks before you, staring off as if he suddenly remembers the existence of laws, “uh I’m gonna be honest, I don’t care. Just, if you see the real bartender at all tonight just don’t tell him okay?”

“I respect your honesty,” you speak to his retreating form as he grabs your drink, and when he returns with a cold amber bottle, you continue, “just between the two of us.”

“Just between us,” he places the bottle next to your hand before shooting you quick finger guns. A small grin still lives on your lips as you bring the opening up to your mouth as he walks away to try to nudge a passed out man that snoozes with his face pressed against the splintering wood awake.

Drink had, club looked at, and as far as you’re concerned, your mission is done. The club seems harmless enough, so with your bottle still gripped between your fingers, you stand to leave and report to your friends that the club is open for business if they’re interested.

Your sure you take the same path that you did to get to the bar, it would be hard not to after you’ve already established where the dj, bar, and weird balcony was placed. But when you’re standing in the exact place that you're sure was where the entrance stood, you’re faced with nothing but a solid empty wall.

Maybe you got turned around, with the amount of people rushing by and the lighting causing it to be a little difficult to see, it wouldn’t be completely out of the realm of possibility. But for the life of you, you could have sworn you turned around and took the exact same path.

You stand frozen in place for a moment, staring at the wall as people dodge and bump into you. You can't imagine how odd you look just staring at a blank wall, but a small part of you hopes that your vision is just compromised and if you look just a little harder, maybe the entrance is still there.

In a last ditch effort, you reach out. Your fingers gently brush the cold wall, before you huff and press your palm flat against it. No false wall, or optical illusion, so maybe you really did just get turned around.

All hopes of that being the truth is immediately crushed when you finally turn around. The balcony high and taunting exactly in the place you’d dreaded it would be, the corner of the bar peeking out from behind a mass of bodies almost as if it’s inviting you to return for just one more drink.

Your heart leaps to your throat when reality starts to set in, but alongside reality, is a rush of determination. There’s no way you’re just stuck here, you tell yourself. You have to get back to your friends and you’re sure that amongst the dozens of bodies that stand around you, there’s no way that they plan on staying here for good right?

There has to be another exit, at least a side door that leads to one of the alleys that stand around the perimeter of the building.

Your hand returns flat to the wall, and you begin to walk. You assume the fastest way to find an exit is to just walk the entire room, and hopefully with you grounding yourself with the wall, you won’t get sucked into the bodies that seem unaware that they’re being locked in.

You keep your shoulder pressed to the wall as well, staying close in hopes to avoid any bumping shoulders or sharp elbows. There are a few times that you have to dodge the rare groping couple that decides the flat surface of the wall is the best place to press against for a good public make out, but you’re quick to return when they’re behind you.

You trace the entirety of the right wall of the building with no luck, and as you turn the corner and pass the restroom you’ve started to huff in disappointment. Maybe the back wall, or the hollow hallway you saw earlier will bring more luck, and if not it probably won’t kill to return to the guy who’s watching the bar to demand he tells you how to escape.

Even though you’re determined to stay focused on finding a way out, you can’t help but to stare at the balcony as you get closer and closer. You can see now that the railing sparkles in the warm light, and you assume it’s made of a gold metal. The vines are even more beautiful as you get closer, and you now notice they’re accompanied by small dark red flowers that look vaguely familiar. But carnations don’t grow on vines do they?

You lose yourself so much in your thoughts that you don’t notice the body approaching you. It’s until you're about a foot away from the dark hallway that you’re pulled from your own universe by a large hand that lands on the wall directly in front of your face.

You jump about a foot in the air, a quiet yelp leaving your lungs as you follow the line the stranger's arm makes to reach his face. And while you know deep down that attractiveness doesn’t mean someone is automatically good, you can’t deny the man that stands in front of you is beautiful and his soft but mischievous eyes makes you slightly relax.

“Believe it or not, but I didn’t really intend to scare you,” he laughs softly as he leans closer, his hand not moving an inch from its spot next to your head, “but you’re looking very beautiful tonight.”

Your eyebrows furrow at how his tone sounds weirdly familiar, and how his words somewhat suggest he’s seen you before. But you know you’ve never met nor seen this man in your life, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that.

“That’s kind of bold of you,” you say with a soft smile that tells him you don’t really mind, and the task at hand starts to slowly slip from your mind as you lose yourself in his soft eyes.

“Easy to be bold when you’re telling the truth,” he leans closer as he speaks, and as he crowds your personal space, you start to feel a fuzzy static wrap around your body, “you look like you’re headed somewhere sweetheart. Can I ask where exactly that is?”

“Oh,” you pulled slightly back into reality at the question, and you even peer around his shoulder to try to see if the entrance has returned and become visible since your journey to the back of the club, “I’m trying to find the exit.”

“Hmm,” his hand not caging you against the wall lifts to scratch gently at his chin as he lets your words roll around in his mind, “well the back is kind of a weird place to be looking for that isn’t it? Why don’t you just go out the same way you came in?”

It’s impossible to ignore the slight twang of taunting in his tone, like he knows something you don’t, but you quietly choose to brush it off. Maybe it’s just your imagination.

“Oh well,” you start before you realize you may sound a little weird if you try to tell him about the disappearing entrance, “you know just… heading that way now.”

He only smiles at you as you laugh nervously as you start to fiddle with your fingers. He’s nice, his slightly drooping eyes making him seem harmless regardless of the way he presses you into the wall, but nevertheless his charming aura and the way his cologne has started to flood your nose and fog up your brain makes you start to get delirious.

“Do you think you could spare me a few seconds before you head out?” His head tilts slightly to the side as a cute and playful pout lands on his lips, and the way he stares you down tells you he knows you won't tell him no, “if only you want to of course.”

“Yeah sure,” you breathe out as you sink back against the wall, despite the little voice in your head that is desperately trying to remind you of your friends that remain outside.

“Good,” his hand finally moves from the wall, only to move a few inches to rub his thumb softly over your cheekbone, “now what is someone so pretty doing in a place like this.”

You can’t help but grin at how cliche he is, but it weirdly fits him and makes your heart flutter, “a place like this? Seems like just a normal grimy club to me, what do you know that I don’t?”

He huffs out a breath, his head softly shaking at the question, “I couldn’t even begin to tell you.”

“Ooo, well maybe if it’s that bad maybe I should go,” you tease, lifting up from the wall slightly, only for him to move his hand down to your shoulder to push you back.

“Well it’s not that bad,” he backtracks as his hand starts to test the waters and trails down your arm until he’s holding your wrist, “not if you stick with me.”

“You a regular here?”

“Hm, yeah,” he pulls on your wrist until it rests on his shoulder, and a pleased hum fills his chest when you take the liberty to stretch out your fingers to scratch at the base of his skull, “something like that.”

“Then maybe you wanna show me around, since it’s my first time here?” You pull him closer as you talk, until his chest starts to brush against you, “maybe show me to the entrance.”

“No, no. I think I’d like to keep you right here,” you were only teasing with the suggestion, but he seems stern when he speaks. This tone and the way he dips his face into the bend of your neck when he finishes makes your breath rush out of you.

“Are you okay with this?” He asks softly, only loud enough for you to hear over the thumping music, his lips brushing the now burning skin of your neck.

“Very okay,” you reassure, and as you thread your fingers fully into the thick hair at the back of his head, the idea of getting back to your friends completely slips your mind.

He only hums again in response before his mouth opens wide to lick at the skin stretched across your jugular, his lips slowly sucking a chunk of skin into his mouth and pulling blood to the surface to form a bruise.

You flinch and your other hand moves to join the other in tugging at his roots when his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. Your head tilts to the side as he starts to move his lips across your jaw and his hips push between your slowly opening legs. The loud music feels like its wrapping around you and feeding you to the wall behind you as his hands now move to squeeze at the flesh that protects the sides of your ribs.

“Who are you?” your words come out stuttered, breathless, and broken, the question slipping out almost by accident as he continues his work on your neck.

“Who do you think I am?” He returns rhetorically. Having another question thrown back at you makes you flicker off for a moment, and by the time you pull yourself from your own foggy brain, he has his teeth biting into your earlobe.

You can only let out a whimper as he licks at the shell of your ear and you try to collect your suddenly scattered thoughts. It doesn’t get any easier as he starts to knead harshly at the skin and flesh underneath his fingers and your knees start to lose their strength.

“How far will you let me go?” Another question to add to your swirling mind, but he doesn’t seem any form of impatient as you collect your thoughts together to respond.

He pulls away from where he’s tucked into your shoulder, his forehead coming to rest against yours, and with the sudden eye contact, it's like he pulls you back down to earth.

You feel very suddenly awake, and it seems like the club disappears behind him, the only remaining evidence of it being the way the music and voices still thump against your eardrums. The way he looks at you is softer than you imagined, but there’s still the inkling of arousal behind his eyes that you know what he’s asking.

“Don’t stop,” you finally answer with zero hesitation, using the hold you still have on his hair as leverage to pull him to your mouth.

He grins wide against your lips, a deep and pleased chuckle leaving him before his eager tongue is pushing its way into your mouth.

With his strong fingers still pushing bruises into your skin, he presses you against the cold wall, his hips and legs pushing against you until your shaking legs step apart enough for his liking, and his body is flush against yours.

Your lips follow his as much as they can, before you notice that he’s sinking down to your neck, his knees bending slightly as he goes. His hands begin to start to move as well when he’s returned to licking and biting bruises against your throat, and its seconds before his cold fingers are brushing against the skin of your stomach.

His blunt nails scrape at the skin of your sternum and the swell of your chest as his lips slide across your skin until he’s nipping at your collarbones. It’s not until one hand slips under the thin material of your bralette with his fingers gently tugging on your nipple, does he finally land on his knees in front of you.

Having him move out of your immediate field of vision throws you off for a moment. The still breathing bodies that fill the room in front of you dance around you, but no one comes closer than a few feet from where he kneels on the dirty floor.

Being reminded that its not just the two of you makes you freeze, the feeling of the hand that doesn’t grope at your chest moving to lift your skirt goes almost completely unnoticed until you feel his mouth take over the garment's job of covering you.

Your fingers flex and tug at his hair when you feel his lips brush against the band of your underwear, and a quiet gasp escapes you when he teeth tugs on the elastic.

“You said don’t stop,” he reminds, muffled just barely loud enough for you to hear, before he lets go of your skirt and the fabric falls over his head and blocks his next moves from your eyes.

You feel his newly freed hand move steadily up your thigh, his fingers brushing against and tickling the sensitive skin as he goes. Once he brushes the hem of the garment, his index finger pushes under and brushes against your buzzing skin as he loops the digit around the crotch of your under to pull it away from your body.

With a harsh pull, he starts to tug your underwear down your legs, his mouth immediately takes advantage of the exposed surface and latches onto a patch of skin on your hip that’s still slightly dimpled from the biting elastic of your underwear.

Once your underwear is pooled around your ankles, his hand retraces its movements back up your thigh, and this time your body shivers at the now familiar feeling. You still groan when his fingers harshly wrap around your thigh, his palm flexing as well as he tugs your leg up and over his shoulder.

His hand shifts until his grip holds you tightly against his face, and his other hand slips down from your chest to press slightly against your stomach. Even though you’re aware enough to know what’s about to happen between the two of you, that does nothing to stop the quick yelping noise that jumps from your chest when his tongue swipes warm and flat against your skin, the tip of the muscle curling at the last moment to flick against your clit and make your hips jump into his grinning face.

He doesn’t leave you a second to adjust to the feeling of his tongue licking into you before he’s going back in. This time when he returns to your skin, his tongue dips shallowly into you, greedily licking up the arousal that spills from your body as he tries to spread the taste of your over every last one of his taste buds.

Your knees tremble and you slip a few inches lower against the wall as your head tilts back. Your heart thumps harshly at the small amount of panic that fills you at the idea of falling into the floor, but the pleasure he pushes into you and your mind scrambling to remember the hold he has on you relaxes you.

He finally moves his tongue away from where you flutter around nothing, his pace slow and maddening as you let your body go lax in his hands and use the study support of his shoulder.

Your eyes shut tightly and your muscles flex for a moment when his lips take hold of your neglected clit, the quick intake of air you pull into your lungs, immediately escapes again in a soft moan.

He uses the way you rest against his shoulder and the wall as a reassurance as he moves his hand away from your thigh to replace the open space his tongue left with his fingers.

You feel two of his long digits press into you slowly, the sudden intrusion making you dizzy and a happy noise that resembles a purr rolls from your chest.

The man kneeled between your thighs finally responds to the small noises you make for him with his own, a proud and content hum crawls out of his lips and against your skin as his tongue repeatedly laps at your clit.

He’s eager, almost like he’s been waiting to show you what his mouth can do his whole life, and as your leg curls around his back and pulls him closer to your lower half, his fingers begin to steadily pump in and out of you.

He takes the moment that his tongue and lips wrap fully around your clit to suck harshly at the bundle of nerves, to curl the tips of his finger to press into the spot that makes stars burst from under your eyelids.

You scramble to find a way to warn him of the knot that forms directly under the hand that pushes against your lower belly, the lack of knowledge you have of his name almost making you want to huff in frustration. But when he starts to massage quick come hither motions against the spot that has you in spirals, you’re gone before you can conjure any cohesive thought.

Your hips stutter against his relentless mouth as you come with a desperate whine. One of your hands leaves his hair as it flies to push against the wall next to your head, your nails digging harshly into the painted brick as he doesn’t let up on licking your through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You’re once again thankful of the tight hold he has on you as you twitch in his hands, his wandering fingers moving back to gripping your hip so his tongue can replace them to devour you.

He moves so quickly to stand when he’s finished licking you clean that you swear you almost get whiplash, and you only get more flustered by his motions when he uses his grip on your sides to spin you around and push your chest into the wall.

“Do you know how pretty you are,” his soft cooing throws you for a loop, but only helps in the neediness you feel for him regardless of your still retreating orgasm. His lips return to press softly to the bone of your jaw and one of his hands slips back in between your thighs to roll the tip of his middle finger softly against your sensitive clit while the other moves away from your skin. The way the fabric of his pants brush against you when he unbuttons them tells you he uses the missing hand to pull himself from his underwear.

You’re proven right, when you feel the end of him nudge the back of your thigh, the precome that drips from his tip smears against your skin and makes you squirm.

“Do you have any idea,” he starts as he moves himself towards the inside of your thigh, until he pushes himself against your wetness, “how long I’ve waited for you?”

“Hmm?” You hum in confusion at his question, but when he begins to push inside you, you quickly chalk it up to him being in the moment and press your cheek against the wall.

You melt into the hard brick as he sinks into you, every inch of him stretching you and pushing against every nerve that makes hums of contentment warm your chest. He moves slowly and with his fingers still playing with you, you feel yourself get dizzy as your eyes flutter and roll.

Once he’s fully seated inside of you, he leans into you, his heated chest straightening out your spine that was curving in pleasure. His now freed hand reaches around, his fingers spreading far against your burning chest, and you feel yourself start to float away from your body when he rolls his hips at the same moment his hand wraps around your throat.

“So good for me aren’t you?” He asks quietly in your ear as he begins to move, his lips brushing your ear easily from the way you tilt your head back to lay on his shoulder. You can only gasp and whimper in response as his thumb harshly digs into your skin below the curved bone of your jaw, but the way your jaw hangs open lets him hear every noise without problem.

A deep groan rattles his chest against your back as he picks up his pace, how deep he pushes inside you with each thrust and the pressure he puts on the blood flow going to your head makes your vision fuzzy.

You can feel your body twitching, but there’s nothing you can do to relax the tensing of your muscles. Your hands start to flail slightly from the pleasure shooting up your spine, one desperately slipping up and down the wall as you try to keep balance, and the other finally finding comfort in holding onto the wrist of the hand that chokes you. You get just a moment of clarity to notice, and feel bad for the way your nails claw into his skin, but the guilt is quickly washed away by the twisting in your belly.

He shows little interest in easing up on you, even when he notices how you start to crumble against him. Almost no interest at all, when he celebrates hitting the spot inside you that finally pushes a loud moan from your lips by relentlessly quickening the pace of his fingers that moves across your clit.

Jumbled moans and slurred words squeeze through your gritting teeth, not even taking the time to be molded into full thoughts in your brain before they pour out. You say a silent thanks when you feel his hand tracing up your neck towards your mouth, assuming he’s going to cover your mouth, as you can only feel yourself start to truly lose the control you have over your volume.

You’re teetering on an edge, the promise of another orgasm dancing on the back of your tongue, and your hips form a mind of their own as they begin to jump and tilt back towards him in desperation. You can’t imagine anything pushing you any closer than what he’s already doing, until you feel his thumb start to push against your lower lip.

It’s almost as if he has you on puppet string with how quickly you move to bring the digit between your lips, your cheeks pulling in and hollowing as you start to gently suck on the intrusion. The pride you feel when he swears darkly in your ear at your action is indescribable, the idea of you causing this man to lose himself the way he is, even with yourself being in more of a submissive position, makes you grin around his thumb as it digs into the center of your tongue. And the feeling of your drool slowly dripping out of your mouth to slide down his wrist makes you feel like you’ve made some kind of claim on him.

Your arousal, and the beginning sparks of your orgasm, fogs your brain. Enough that it takes a moment for you to notice the small bites of pain that shoots across the skin of your tongue that presses against a thick ring he wears below the bend of his thumb.

You want to whimper out, maybe nip at oddly strong digit to ask him to lighten up, but you shamefully admit that the burn and the coppery taste that begins to flood your tastebuds makes you shiver and flutter around his length as it pushes you both closer and closer.

Once your blood is spilling out enough that it begins to slip down your throat, is when he pulls his thumb from your mouth, his hand moves to grip your jaw tightly. You feel your saliva that’s been tainted with your blood spill quickly down your chin and neck as he turns you to face him, and the delirious and rapid look in his eyes when they meet yours tells you he loves the mess he’s made of you.

“Come for me,” it’s said sternly. Demanding in the way that tells you there’s no room for arguments, or pleas to slow down, but you greet the command with pleasure. You’re also just as glad to accept his open mouth as it presses against yours.

Nothing about him slows down. His hips, fingers and lips devour you like he’s been starved for centuries, and you start to feel that maybe you’ve been waiting just as long.

You squeak and groan when he sucks your wounded tongue into his mouth, and when it hits you that he’s pulling and swallowing the blood that pours out of it, is when you're pushed over the edge.

You’re more than thankful for the way he presses against you, as you’re sure without it you would have crumbled in place. Your knees feel useless and you whine into his open mouth the best you can with your tongue trapped between his lips, and you feel your body curl back against him as he holds you close. The way you tremble only comparable to a body trapped and lost in a blinding cold, and your stomach flexes in pleasure.

You want your body to mesh into his as you come in his hold, his arms strong and pulled tightly against your bones as his hips stutter against you. And it’s only a moment of watching you melt into him before he’s following close behind.

The way the evidence of his orgasm spills into you is what finally pulls him away from your lips as he almost growls with his forehead pressed against your temple. His body taking control of his impulse as his brain is taken over with the way you’re wrapped around him, and almost like a reflex, his hand pulls away from your clit to swat harshly at the inside of your thigh. But the way his teeth bite into his lower lip and he’s eyes scrunch closed, you can only offer a dopey smile in response.

Your smile falls slightly as you cringe at the feeling of him slipping from your body, but his hands moving to rub up and down your sides momentarily makes you relax.

He’s quiet and quick as he bends to drag your underwear up until they’re back to resting on your hips, and you pray they do enough to keep his come from spilling out of you.

“You need to get back to your friends,” he breaks his quiet spell as he turns you to pull you into his chest, and you have a small moment of confusion at his words before it hits you what you were trying to do when you ran into him.

Your hands fly up to clench at his shirt, your curls fingers wrinkling the fabric of his shirt and the sudden puppy like look you give him makes him smile.

“I can't wait to see you again,” the sureness in his voice shakes your core a little, and you can only hope what he says is true, “I promise I won't be hard to find.”

“Can you at least tell me your name,” you say more petulantly than you intended, but you're greeted with his grinning sharp teeth as he starts to pull you away from his chest regardless.

“I’m Jaehyun,” he speaks slowly as he makes sure you’re completely steady on your feet before he starts to step away, “I promise you won’t forget. Now go, the entrance should be there just like normal.”

He nods as he finally disappears into the crowd, but you can’t help the biting voice at the back of your mind that, even though he only gave you a few short sentences, he always spoke like he knew something you didn’t.

But he was right. You took your chance with the entrance again after his confident tone, pushing through the crowd of pushy shoulders to get back to the front. The only disappointment that rests in your chest when you reach the now visible door, is you didn’t get a glance of the man amongst the crowd.

It’s almost like culture shock when you step outside. The men that lean against the wall by the door remain rooted in place, their thumbs still swiping aimlessly at their phone screens, and the shadowy outlines of your friends still stand on the other side of the street.

Even with a looseness to your muscles from what happened in the club, you still feel foolish as you sprint to where they stand, and the looks of surprise they wear makes an apologetic smile stitch onto your face.

“So how was it?” The more gentle of the two asks, a concerned glint in her eyes making you feel even more guilt on what you let distract you.

“It was pretty cool,” you hesitate telling them what had happened, you’re not sure why as you knew they would never judge you for the hookup but you can't conjure the words, “I’m sorry I was in there for so long though.”

“So long?” Your more fiery friend takes her turn to speak now, but your face only screws up in confusion at her questioning words, “dude you were only in there for like five minutes top. Were you even able to get to the bar to get a drink in that time?”

You can't collect your thoughts enough to force words, instead you fumble over syllables and rumbling noises of misunderstanding what she’s saying. You’re almost ready to ask her how something that felt like years to you only felt like five minutes to her when she interrupts again.

“Whatever. It could have been five seconds and I still would be bored so lets fucking go,” she turns to walk away, her hand reaching back and lacing her fingers through your own being the only thing that pulls you along behind them as the feeling of Jaehyun’s finger prints weighs you down, and tugs at the cord that connects you to the club behind you.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – prologue

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 6th May 2021

Word count: 2 653

Warnings: dark thoughts, general angst (in this chapter, it gets lighter later)

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Prologue

“What do you need?”

Another question to which, despite your sincere effort, you are unable to find an answer; spoken in a cool, collected tone that makes it no easier to adjust to. You stare blankly at your hands, folded in your lap in a position that was supposed to be modest, but right now – betrays insecurity and uncertainty.

“Do I have to answer?” you ask quietly, struggling to find the right thing to say; your mind gets as blank as your stare, the stress deeming you unable to create a reply.

“Do you want to waste my time? If I ask a question, I expect an answer.” The man taps the surface of the close-by table, a clear message goes through – don’t test my patience. The notebook that he holds on his lap, with his other hand over it, hasn’t been written in for the past few minutes. The two of you are sitting on tall bar chairs, facing each other. You wish the tall table on the side, imitating the bar counter, was actually in between the two of you – maybe you’d feel a bit more secure with this form of a barrier.

You don’t want to waste his time, but you feel like you’re wasting yours right now. It’s as if you were at a job interview that completely didn’t align with what you had expected it to be like. It’s the moment you feel like the interviewer is only asking the questions out of politeness but does not pay much attention to your answers, and you know your case is a lost one. That’s exactly the way you feel right now – as if he’s at this point only tormenting you for the mere fun of it, although it doesn’t look like he has any fun in this at all; his face is stern and ridden of emotions. Terrifying.

“I think I need stability, and safety…” you try to utter something sensible. “But not boredom…”

You feel silly as soon as these words leave you, and, as you expect, they earn no reaction from the man. You soon realize he must have heard such things dozens of times before you – it’s a textbook answer.

“Some of your replies contradict each other” the man suddenly states.

“I didn’t lie” you argue back.

“Maybe not, but I’d recommend therapy.”

You only continue to stare blankly. Such words don’t faze you anymore – partly because you started to grow indifferent to whatever is spoken in this conversation, and partly because you’ve heard these words enough of times, spoken by your family, friends, even classmates or strangers. It’s embarrassing, but you’ve learned to push such thoughts away every time they surfaced; and this time, as well, you knew you wouldn’t think about them anymore as soon as the topic changed.

“Yeah, I know” you mutter, only for the sake of having an answer. You feel bitter; the case is lost for sure, you can tell – what he keeps you here for anymore, you don’t know.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Uh… No, not really.”

“Is there anything you want to ask me?”

Of course. So many things, so many thoughts that appeared in the anticipation for this meeting. Excitement that slowly died down; you remember the questions you wanted to ask, as well as the ones that emerged during the conversation itself. Yet, you don’t think that any of them are worth being spoken aloud anymore.

“I don’t think so.”

“I see.”

The man reaches for his notebook and writes a word or two inside, then tears the page out; you flinch at that. You can’t tell what’s written on it as he places the piece of paper on the table between the two of you, the clear side upwards, while the text is underneath. You stare at it with new-found curiosity.

“I need to leave for a few minutes. Write your number there, or e-mail address, whichever you prefer. I’ll be back.”

He stands up without asking for your reply and heads towards the bathroom; you only follow him with your stare as he disappears in the crowd – it’s Friday evening, and the bar, The Queen of Spades, is as full as on any typical Friday evening, except there’s an aura of loneliness surrounding you. You’re a bit uncomfortable in the bar chair – you’d rather sit in the leather sofa that’s behind you.

The leather sofa on which you saw Byun Baekhyun for the first time.

* * *

The Queen of Spades was a quite spacious, but not too well known bar that your friend had been promising to take you to thousands of times before a good occasion actually came up – the end of your winter exam session, all exams passed by a miracle. The bar was just fifteen minutes from your house, and you were astonished the moment you entered through the glass doors, feeling as though you went back in time by a few decades. Wooden furniture, warm lights, soft tunes of jazz and RnB – not your vibe, but one that made you fall in love with this place at the first sight.

However, as much as the interiors were dazzling, there was one more thing that caught your attention the most – the man sitting in the corner of the bar, on a leather couch with only the tall counter-like table on the side, probably too tall to reach to, but he wasn’t drinking anyway. He sat with a middle-aged woman, leaning gently into his side, casually and trustfully. The leather collar on her neck did not match her age-accurate attire, and that was exactly what caught your attention in her whole visage.

Whether the pair knew that they’re observed or not, you couldn’t tell – and, in fact, it seemed as though they don’t necessarily care. When the man’s hand found itself on the woman’s leather collar and pulled it backwards tightly, a small scowl on his face, you freaked out; at least until you saw her smile softly, no attempt to struggle, no worry, as her face reddened with the restraint of blood flow that the motion must have caused. Their eyes met. The man’s gaze softened. He released the collar and held her chin in his hands, and soon, they were resting again.

You stared at the scene, mesmerized. But it would be inappropriate to pay it any more attention; yet, you felt intrigued. You wondered what else would you see if you came back to the bar another time.

And, in fact, he was there the second time as well, just as you were with your classmate, trying to listen to her personal stories, but with your glance drifting off to the man’s direction.

He was with a woman, again, but one that could have been around your own age. It confused you, but, without any other cues, you did not want to judge. This one, also, had a collar on her neck – or more like a necklace, made of chain with pearls tied into it, a dainty and girly piece. The man patted her head gently as she rested with her eyes closed, maybe even sleeping. Nothing else happened.

And the third time you went there, alone this time, after a particularly long day at work, hoping to get some of the stress off your shoulders, you sat by the bar alone, and therefore, did not need to worry about annoying the person you were with – you could stare to your heart’s content; at least until someone would notice and find you weird or creepy.

It was a Friday evening again, so you concluded he comes here regularly. Although the bar was quite crowded, no one sat by the table next to the leather couch, probably not wanting to disrupt the pair – two men sitting together now. It did catch you by surprise. This one’s collar was made of silver squares linked together. It looked simple, but elegant. With a little bit of tequila, for once you felt bold enough to shoot the bartender your question.

“Yeah, oh, him? Baekhyun, he’s local. Why? You’re interested? Well, if you really are, he’s not into one night stands.”

Neither were you; you didn’t want to jump into such things abruptly, not at all. You wanted to know more first.

“He’s not into relationships, from what I know. Or more like, his relationships aren’t what they may be to you. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then just leave it, there’s other fish in this sea, just look around you.”

But you weren’t interested in other fish; this one spiked your interest and you just needed to know more. Your motive was obvious, and so, the bartender kept talking, taking pleasure in enlightening the silly kid that you were in his eyes.

“Ever heard of BDSM? If yes, then you’ll understand. If no, then leave it be.”

Your first impression, the thought you had in the first moment, was finally confirmed – it was like opening a cake you’ve only seen in the packaging and finding out it looks exactly as the packaging’s shape hinted. You chose this cake because of the shape, and now you feel even more excited about seeing how it tastes. And you did, in fact, truly want to devour it.

“So, you want to get on with him?”

You knew you did. There was no doubt in that. The bartender, who initially seemed persistent in discouraging you, suddenly seemed to enjoy the role of a sort of broker.

“I can set you two up.”

* * *

That’s how your story led you to this particular point; to the dark, old-styled walls of The Queen of Spadesthat you’ve started to memorize well by now, to the table you’ve only observed from afar, to the man whom you also could only look at, until today.

And you feel like the figurative cake is now made of nasty, bitter chocolate, and empty inside.

You glance once again in the direction in which the man disappeared – the bathroom. You probably have a few more minutes to relax. Your gaze lands on the torn piece of paper.

It shouldn’t be an issue if you decided to have a look – right? He left it in front of you, maybe even for this particular reason, for you to check if he hasn’t written anything wrong about you. Whatever is written in there… You can’t think anymore as you whip the paper to the other side.

[F/n], 24, fem. & stud. available weekends mentally unstable, possible childhood trauma sensitive

No lies are detected.

Moreover, you feel as though each statement is awfully accurate; you are sensitive, and the words hurt. You feel reduced to these few random phrases, as if your whole personality consists just of these traits.

Mentally unstable.

Childhood trauma.

Sensitive.

You angrily turn the sheet back over and make sure the number you just wrote is correct, although you’re not so sure if you wantit to be correct. You consider changing it to a wrong one. Or standing up and leaving. You’re angry and frustrated, and lost. Your desperate need for this deal to work out collides with your desperate need to go back to your safe zone; the one in which you can rely on fiction and your own imagination, and where no other person can hurt you. You could just stand up and leave, for sure; who would try to stop you? Do you even have the guts to stay? You feel disrespected; you wish to disappear.

Yet, you don’t find yourself doing any of these things. You sit in your place, staring at the sheet blankly, until familiar steps echo nearby and the man takes his place again. The time for making decision has run out. Byun Baekhyun sits in front of you again, staring at you intensely.

“Did you look?” His tone is accusatory, and a bit angry. Were you not supposed to look, after all…?

“N-no” you instantly reply. Your voice falters, you know you’re not a good liar. But he can’t blame you for something you won’t admit; you’ll leave, and you’ll be safe, he won’t be able to say anything more hurtful anymore.

“I see.”

The lie eats at you; you fiddle nervously as he takes the paper and slowly puts it back in his notebook. He doesn’t look at you while doing so, but you watch him full of nerves. You can’t lie, you never could.

“I-I did” you utter after a moment of silence.

He freezes in spot and you start fearing again; his eyes raise to meet yours, and you don’t dare to reciprocate the gaze. However, you can tell he’s not angry – whether it’s pure disdain or disappointment, you don’t know. But, at the very least, you can tell you won’t be yelled at, and it’s enough to be a relief.

“I’m sorry” you add in a mumble filled with shame. Your gaze lowers even further.

Byun Baekhyun doesn’t say anything about it. He observes you in silence for a while, as if deep in thought, and you don’t know if you’re being judged or analyzed, you do your best not to let your mind drift towards the areas of insecurity and fear.

He puts his things back in the leather bag he carries – the notebook, phone, leather gloves. Seems that the meeting is coming to an end. It’s not even 8 PM.

“Will you find your way home? You need a drive?”

“I live nearby, I’ll be okay.”

“Can I walk you, then?”

“Sure…”

It’s slowly getting dark and you don’t find it in yourself to oppose the offer. More than to run away, you feel an urge to just give in, and you’d rather he yells at you for lying than asks you anymore questions; you’re worn out, both mentally and physically – with your muscles cramping for keeping them tense for so long.

No more words are said, though, there’s no yelling and no accusations. He acts professionally the moment you leave the bar, letting you lead the way and only staying by your side, not too close even, no touch and no words – as if he’s following you rather than accompanying.

Throughout your whole conversation, you didn’t see him smile even once. It pains you. But you slowly come to the conclusion that you haven’t necessarily done anything wrong, and it’s just the way it is.

“Thank you for today” you utter politely. You want to run back into your apartment and be safe again. “And thank you for walking me.” Sorry for wasting your time, too, you also wish to add, but you don’t want to victimize yourself; you don’t want to believe that you’re at fault for it, either – apologizing would be like taking the whole blame upon yourself, and you don’t want to accept that.

“No problem. Thank you for your time. Sleep well.”

He opens the door for you but doesn’t look at you or say anything more. You utter one more small “thank you” and “goodnight” before entering your small apartment again.

The day finally comes to an end and you want nothing more than to rest it off in the bunk bed of your bedroom – the sweet and safe comfort zone that never betrays you, never plays with your feelings, and always welcomes you with its warmth.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: I know it feels a bit sad thus far, but bear with me, it will get better soon!

Next (Chapter 1.)

[house-of-cakes]

Jamais Vu

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Prev || Next Chapter 22: And I Oop! 🤭 Jungkook x Reader: enemy to lovers AU

Word count: 1739

Warnings: Swearing, an over confident douchebag and Y/N and JK are major teases Premise: “There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger… Nothing is ever familiar” – Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

AKA Jungkook goes in search of the girl who got him expelled.

It’s embarrassing how long this chapter took me to write  🤦‍♀️ If you would like to give feedback or be tagged in this story please send me an ask/message 😊 Tagged list: @inspinkyring​ @betysotelo18​ @kardia-apo-marmelada​ @casspirit0705​ @preciouschimine​ @therealsugababe​  @lucedelsole97​ @deolly​ @lexy9716​  @thesweetest-peas​ @sannsia​ ​ ​

STORY CONTINUED BELOW THE CUT

A large group of excitable females crowded one end of the bar as the man behind it took two bottles and spun it around with dramatic flare before pouring a generous amount of alcohol into a shaker. Squeals of delight erupted from the crowd as he threw a handful of ice cubes into the air and successfully caught them all behind his back. He finished off the flashy routine by placing the shaker top back on the canister and entertain his audience one final time by dancing in body rolls while he shook up his concoction.

“Who’s thirsty?” He yelled out and in an instant the females grew feral with enthusiasm as they pushed and shoved each other, trying to be the first person to gain his attention.

Y/N observed the scene from the other side of the bar as she waited for her turn to be served. A girl with fire engine red hair managed to wrestle her competitors off and secured the position at the front of the bar.  She patiently stood before him, hoping her pleading eyes was enough for him to convince him to invite her for a drink.

Y/N’s nose crinkled in distaste. While she didn’t know the red head by name (she went by the name Red), she had seen the girl around the Basement and knew enough to know she deserved better than him.  

“I’m absolutely parched.” Her tone was slow and drawn out in attempts to sound sultry.

Y/N couldn’t contain the fake gagging noise she made. In her eyes the scenario was completely cringeworthy…maybe Red did deserve him.

‘I wouldn’t be caught dead chasing a guy like BeatBox Jae.’ She thought to herself.

Unfortunately, the sound she had made was loud enough to catch Jae’s attention.

An overwhelming amount of excitement welled in his chest when he realised he had the Kim Y/N in his sights. He turned his attention back to Red and gave her the most charming smile as he could muster as he made another big show of slowly pouring out two drinks.

“Sorry, bar’s closed.” He said with no hint of remorse then picked up the drinks and made his way over to Y/N, leaving the humiliation to sink in with poor Red.

“Here.” Jae said as he set the frosty martini glass in front of Y/N “I made you a drink, Beautiful.”

Y/N scoffed in his face and pushed the drink to the side, her blatant act of rejection did not even damper his mood.

“You’re an asshole you know, right? I can’t believe you did that to her!”

Jae nonchalantly shrugged off the comment as he took a sip from his drink. He didn’t care about the feelings or problems of others…if he wanted something, he knew that as the Maknae of The Basement Boys there wasn’t much that was unattainable by him. With a face that looked like it was carved by angels and an ego that was extensively fed his adoring fans of guys and girls…Jae was a lethal combination of charisma and arrogance.

It was exactly this attitude that repelled Y/N from him. “Don’t be like, Beautiful…let me take you out on a date and show you how much I like you.” “Oh really?” Y/N leant forward so that elbows were resting on the bar and cupped her face in her hands, making sure to looked up at him from under her long lashes with a cute pout. “Tell me three things you like.”  

Y/N was never discreet about her dislike towards Jae which only made him want her more. The fact that she was now showing genuine interest, made Jae feel like he was finally getting a head in a race he was lagging in.

“That’s easy… You’re hot as hell.” He said with enthusiasm and raised his hand so he could count the reasons as he listed them off “…cute too and the most gorgeous thing in the world.” He grinned proudly to himself, feeling satisfied that he answered the question well.

“Is that all?” “You only asked for three…did you want me to say super sexy too?” His response was smug

Y/N had to force a smile to hide her grimace. Of course the only traits he favoured were those of her appearance. She knew better than to ask those kinds of questions, especially to someone like Jae but once in a while she had the unstoppable urge to remind herself that men were trash.

“Sorry I don’t date guys who fuck around while they have girlfriends.” Y/N pulled herself of the bar and broke the illusion of interest she had Jae under. Though her abrupt change of attuite was enough to give him whiplash he was able to recover quickly.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Beautiful.” “That’s not how I see it.” The tension grew thick in the air as they stared each other down.

For regulars of The Basement, it was common knowledge that Jae was one to sleep around. However, with her sharp observation skills as The Shopkeeper, Y/N was able to piece together his hidden shame. From what she could piece together it seemed that only the members of The Basement Boys were aware of this convoluted secret and the matter was kept within the crew.

“Don’t be silly Beautiful.” Jae was the first to speak, breaking the tension by playfully ruffling her hair and returning back to his same jovial self “Besides if anyone has to worry about significant others it should be me…your boyfriend has been giving us death glares.” “What?” Y/N asked trying to figure out who in the world he was talking about. Nods his head in the direction behind her before revealing who he is talking about. “SeokJin’s big buff cousin over there.” she turned around spotted a Jungkook looking disgruntled standing a few people back in the line for the bar. Their eyes met briefly before he turned the other way, pretending he wasn’t watching Y/N. “That’s not my boyfriend.” she said rolling her eyes “He’s just angry because he’s a sore loser.” “Thank God.” Jae exclaims as he clutches his chest overdramatically “I thought I had competition for a second.” “You don’t have to worry about that.” Y/N reassures him with a smirk “You actually act to be in the race to have competition.” She cheekily blows him a kiss and leaves him, no longer interested in getting a drink.

Y/N was well aware of the type of person Jae was, so never in a million years would she fall victim to his charms. If anything, she found it enjoyable to shut him down.

‘That should take him down a notch.’ She thought to herself

Jungkook was still facing away from Y/N as she drew closer to passing him on her way back to the balcony, she had every intention to walk by and ignore his existence and yet she had the unstoppable desire to mess with him too. Still high off her interaction with Jae, her body moved on its own accord and before she knew it her body was crashing into his as she purposely tripped herself. As if on instinct Jungkook was quick to wrap his arms around her to prevent her from falling.

“If you wanted me in your arms, all you had to do was ask…there’s not need to trip me over” Jungkook’s eyes widen at her accusation which caused her to chuckle. His arms dropped from around her and he stepped back to create space between them “I don’t blame you though…I am pretty irresistible in my new shirt.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He spat out in disgust “I don’t want anything to do with you, especially after I saw you help humiliate that red headed girl.” “Um…Sorry what?” Y/N’s mouth hung open in disbelief, he didn’t really believe she had anything to do with that? “Don’t act like you weren’t involved in that. I bet you couldn’t handle not being the center of attention for once, that’s why you called that bartender over to you.” “Excuse you? I’m not sure what you saw there but you must really have your head up your ass if you think that I had anything to do with that.” “Oh pah-lease!” Jungkook’s arms were crossed defensively “You might have everyone fooled but I see you for who you are… you’re nothing more than a spoilt princess!”

‘A spoilt princess?’

That comment really struck a nerve with Y/N. She had been called many unfavourable things in her lifetime and she had never been offended because to some degree the things they said were true so it never bothered her…she felt there was no point in getting upset with the truth, she accepted every aspect of herself - whether it be good or bad. However to be called a princess and a spoilt princess at that really pushed all the wrong buttons within her.

Y/N refused to conform to her mother’s notions of the importance of beauty and the concept of using her physical attributes to have things handed to her. Y/N valued independence, intelligence and hard work…to have this stranger discredit her like that was deeply insulting to her.

“Look here you jerkfaced asshole.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she scowled up at the tall male towering above her. “Maybe if you were a better competitor, you’d be able to win once in a while and then you wouldn’t have to take your passive aggression out on me.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide the grin that had taken over his face, even when Y/N was losing against him she had always managed to keep her emotions in check. This is the first time he had seen her flustered and openly frustrated…He enjoyed seeing her lose her composure.

“Whatever you say…” Jungkook closed the distance between them so that he could lean closer to her “…Princess” 

Y/N stiffened when she heard his smooth husky voice whisper in her ear, stirring an unfamiliar feeling of anticipation and delight within her. Those feelings quickly turned to repulsion when her brain had finally caught up to her and realised who she had been talking to. She let out a sound of disgust and pushed him away from her.

“Go fuck yourself, Asshole!” she spat before turning to leave him.

Jungkook watched Y/N storm off as he buzzing with satisfaction of knowing he had be the one to get under her skin for once.

[duskypinkbow]

All Love II Jeff Wittek

word count: 3k-ish (she a big baaaby)

summary: I got inspired by All Love by Fletcher... so I guess that explains it?...

note: English isn't my first language.. so plss excuse my mistakes ✨

tw: mention of drugs, drinking (tell me if there are more?)

Jeff’s and your story goes way back. Him being a friend of one of your older cousins, made his face a familiar one in your neighborhood. Although you didn’t see him very often nor interacted with him in any way, you knew who he was. You remembered his face, recognized his eyes and always reminded yourself of his beautiful smile. He was the barber boy from the shop across the street. The handsome guy from around the corner, involved in far too many erroneous decisions. You saw him cutting peoples hair, always admiring his work ethic at such a young age. You heard your cousin dropping his name in stories he told you and your siblings about stuff they did together, for which they did or did not get caught for. Jeff Wittek wasn’t a stranger to you, but you wouldn’t consider him a friend either. 

That changed when you reconnected with him a few years later. Both of you chasing your dreams in Miami Beach, not knowing from each other's presence in the city of the sun. The two of you bumped into each other at a party, hosted by one of Jeff’s closest friends, who coincidentally also was an acquaintance of one of your friends. As you spotted him in the crowd of people, smoking a cigarette you assured yourself that he couldn’t recall who you were. For one thing because he was fairly intoxicated and for another thing because you didn’t even know if he knew your name in the first place. You being the little cousin of one of his friends from back home. Why would he even remember your face?

Even though you were sure that he wouldn’t recognize you, you tried your best to avoid an encounter with him. Whenever he looked in your direction, you quickly turned away. When he somehow came closer to where you were, you searched for an excuse to disappear. You didn’t even know why you were so afraid and nervous to stand in front of him, but you continued your hiding nonetheless.

After a very successful night of preventing to meet him, and after you saw him leave the party, you decided it was time to celebrate your performance with a drink. You went to the nearest bar and tried to order yourself a cocktail when a tall man decided to fill the empty space next to you. „Heeeyy“ he introduced himself while he semi-leaned towards your small frame, his hands placed on the counter. „Hi“ you responded shortly, smiling with closed lips as you noticed it was him who was standing right next to you.  

Although your eyes deliberately went in the opposite direction than he was standing, he reclined back and squinted his eyes before he asked you „do I know you?“. You quickly shook your head and nervously tapped on the counter in front of you. „I don’t think so…“ you answered, still not returning his gaze. His eyes scanned your figure up and down before he pointed at you and rephrased his statement „I do know you!“ now sure about his cognizance. „I think you are mistaking me…“ you uttered tremulously, your hands fidgeting with your own fingers. Your level of uncomfortableness increasing by the minute, as his inebriated breath created a veil around your face. „I do…“ he objected trying very hard to recollect his memory. 

„Shiiiit..“ he spit out when he finally realized, elongating on the vocal „you’re from back home right?“ he spluttered before he put one of his hands on your shoulder to use you as a strut, demising the possibility of him falling down. You let out a little gasp as your gaze went to his hand. Looking at his long fingers nestling your naked shoulder. „You are from Staten Island! Aren’t ya’?“ he questioned you, exaggerating on his accent, his hand back on the counter and a big smile decorating his face, now very sure about his recognition. You breathed out at the sudden loss of physical contact. „Holy shit you really grew up, didn’t ya’?“ he mentioned while he scanned your whole body again. „Fuck, does Leo know that you run around looking like that?“ his words spoken while he pointed his finger at your outfit, a cigarette placed between his digits.

Still intimidated by the tall brunette standing next to you, you cleared your throat, gathered all your strength and spoke up „…that's not of his concern“. You breathed out, looking for the bartender, pleased and proud of your confident demeanor. Although you didn’t look at him, you noticed how his smile got even bigger, showing his perfect teeth as he finished the last pull of his smoke. „Well, certainly not anymore huh?“ he admitted right before he called the bartender, apparently another friend of his, to order drinks for the two of you.

During the rest of the night he didn’t left your side for one second. He told you about his friends, explained what he was doing if he wasn’t attending parties and gave you an extensive heads-up about places you shouldn’t go to. You friendly declined his offer of him walking you home but surrendered as he insisted on doing it anyways. Since your friend, which promised you to go home together, left the party with a random dude, it was safer for you to be accompanied by Jeff then going home all by yourself. „I hope to see you around y/n..“ he confessed when he was about to leave your apartment building. You took a last look into his eyes, nodded and let him vanish in the darkness of the night.

Although you tried your best not to spend much time with Jeff, you couldn’t avoid the fact that the two of you grew inevitably closer. Part of the reason being that two of your friends started dating, which particularly forced you to spend more time together. And the other one being that both of you shared the same hometown, which made you just relate to one another on a level no-one could really understand. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy Jeff’s company, but you wouldn’t admit to it either. Neither to your friends and certainly not to Jeff himself. 

In virtue of your and his friends group colliding you found yourself run in the wrong circle of people. The ones your family and especially your cousin Leo always warned you about. But Jeff, keeping his promise to Leo, watched out for you and tried his best to keep you out of the affairs. He always told you not to try the drugs some of your friends were doing, although it were his friends that brought them to the table. He revealed horror stories of downfalls some of his friends had, while you saw the same things happening to your acquaintance. He tried his best to keep you on the right path. And his effort finally made you realize, that Miami isn’t the right place for you. 

One night when all of your and his friends were partying in a penthouse, he begged you not to drink too much. Even though you were extremely annoyed by all the restrictions he already made for you, you obeyed him, not wanting that night to end in an argument. So instead of getting drunk, to keep up with intoxicated people, you just drank until you felt a little tipsy. You thought he just wanted to keep his promise to Leo. That he didn’t want you to do something stupid that you would regret someday. But in reality he just wanted you to be at least semi-sober for the very first kiss he was about to give you that very night. 

He walked you home, a habit the two of you adapted during the last few weeks of being friends. He gave you his jacket, embracing you in warmth filled with a mixture of the smell of cigarettes but most importantly his incomparable sent. He tried to take smaller steps for you, since your small body couldn’t keep up with his pace. And that in spite of getting more and more nervous with every street the two of you passed. He felt his heart beat faster with every step he took. His fingers getting shaky as he brought you closer to your place. 

When you finally stood in front of your entrance, searching for your keys, he took them out of his pocket. „Looking for those doll?“ he asked, swallowing away all the insecurities he had before and making a small step in your direction. You nodded lightly at the sight of your keys, a strand of hair falling down in front of your face. Jeff stepped forward and put the keys in the looker, your back now pressed against the entrance of your apartment. 

You looked up into his darkened brown eyes, your lips parted as you breathed out slowly, feeling his somewhat alcoholized breath against your skin. „Fuck…“ he said with his raspy voice, making you smell the drink he has drunk that evening. You swallow your uncertainty, your head fell back on the door just by the thought of tasting the liquor his lips enjoyed just hours ago. He breathed out, his gaze still focused on you „I promised Leo to protect you…“ he started slowly. „Keeping an eye on you…“ he continued while putting the fallen down strand of hair back behind your ear. „Making sure you don’t get in trouble…“ getting more and more quiet and closer to your face with every word he spoke. „But fuck y/n…“ his arms now resting on each side of your head, as if there is a protective shield around your body that doesn’t allow him to touch you. His lips not even an inch away from yours now „I can’t resist you anymore…“ he whispered almost inaudibly before he broke the guarding shield by pressing his lips on yours. You tasted the smoke on his tongue, the booze on his lips and the lust in his quiet moans. He pressed you against your door, your hands tangled up in his hair while he lifted you up, pulled you closer by your waist and opened the door for you to finally get in.

The two of you thought it was the first and last time that this had happened. But after just that one breathtaking night you shared, tangled up in your sheets, both of you carved for more. Therefore, drunk hookups turned into casually sleeping with each other. Eventually even when sober. You tried to keep it a secret, but the looks you gave each other and the ‘coincidently going home at the same time’ - every time - made your friends catch on rather fast. There was no denying that you had a thing for each other. But it was never anything too serious. Both of you just living in the moment. No rush and no need to put labels on a thing that could change any second. It was a fast life you had on the east coast. And it changed way faster than each one of you could have imagined. 

After all you had to end your little ongoing amorous adventure for the simple reason that life had other plans for you. An opportunity to fulfill your career dreams coaxed you to move away. So that’s what you did. Leaving the barber boy alone in the city of the sun.  And since you’ve been gone, shit quickly went down for him. Though you kept in touch with each other and though you  told him ‚not to fuck up‘ , he changed when you left. So it wasn’t even a surprise when your cousin called you to tell you, that Jeff had to go to jail.

-

A few years later you sat in one of your favorite bars, enjoying the night with some of your  closest friends. Pleased with where you were in live and what you have achieved in those past few years. You worked your butt off just to celebrate your promotion for a highly regarded position. A thousand cups of coffee, endless sleepless nights and sacrificed relationships finally paid off, just so you can finally celebrate your accomplishment. Yet your mood to party shifted when you saw a familiar face entering the crowded room. Happiness overcame you for a second, while you looked into those known and unmatchable deep brown eyes. How long has it been? You questioned yourself. Wanting nothing more than to catch up with the handsome man who you haven’t seen in ages. 

But your mood quickly changed after you saw him holding hands with another girl, walking right behind him. It took a while for him to notice your presence in-between those random faces, but after your eyes met he didn’t hesitate to make his way up to you. And before your brain could deal with the situation and even before your feelings could cope with the shock, he was already standing in front of you. „Y/n!“ he said in excitement, giving you a one-armed hug. Yet that’s enough for you to take in his acquainted scent. Even though there is no more indication for the smell of cigarettes, it brought back so many old memories. 

You tried to say something, but there was an ache in your throat that prevented you from making a sound. „She is an old friend of mine…“ he explained and avoided the possibility of an awkward moment of silence as well as introducing you to the girl which was standing right by his side. You waved at her, smiling politely after she introduced herself to you „How have you been?“ he asked you curiously with a big smile on his face, eyes lighten up when he put one of his arms around his company. You hesitated for a second, eyes pierced at his hand curving around the waist of the woman in his hold. Trying to manage the situation before you finally began to talk „I’m…“ you start, returning his gaze before recollecting yourself once again and starting anew, „I’m doing fine…“ you lied, a convincing smile conjured up on your face to conceal the sadness which was building up inside of you. „We should-“ he started, right before someone of his friends screamed his name. He apologized genuinely for the sudden interruption. However, he promised to catch up with you through the course of the night, before he left you and you friends alone.

„Who was that?“ a friend of yours asked you abuzz in excitement. „An old friend…“ you answered with a crack in your voice. Purposely repeating his words as your gaze followed his figure. You felt your throat closing with every step he took bringing distance between your bodies. You bit your inner lip, your eyes close to tears. But instead of drowning in melancholy you remembered the reason for your celebration. So you tried to stop the waiter just to ask her „Can we get another round of shots please?“

With every shot you took, you tried to forget about the looks he used to give you, when your eyes met his. Tried to forget about those late night walks on the beach, admiring the stars and talking about anything and everything. To forget how loved he made you feel when you shared a bed with him and spend days not leaving it. With every shot you just wanted to numb your heart the same way that the burning liquor was actually just numbing your brain. 

It wasn’t a secret that you thought about him from time to time. His name popped in your head whenever you talked to your cousin, which wasn’t as often as it used to be, yet you asked yourself what Jeff has been up to, when Leo didn’t mention him. Because he was indeed your favorite memory of your days in Miami. Still wondering if your name ever crosses his mind. If he remembers the moments the two of you shared with each other. If those were happy reminiscences, or if you were not more than just a short fling for him. 

As the night went on you tried not to be too obvious about your looks towards his new group of friends. However you were too nosey about where he was or what he was doing. That’s when you saw his face buried in the nape of her neck. He gave her little kisses on her throat until he made his way up to her lips. His eyes small, dimples deep and just full of happiness. The smile which was plastered on his face, one you knew just too well. Yet it wasn’t determined for you anymore. It felt like a thousand knives were stabbed in your body all at once. Like your lungs cut off all your air, stopping you from breathing, making you suffocate from the pain. You smiled approvingly at her after she glanced at you. Her eyes full of happiness, while yours almost begun to fill with tears. 

Before things could get worse your body robotically squeezed itself through the masses of people until you made your way outside, trying to gasp for some air. Whilst you took a deep breath you felt your body calming down again. 

You gave your thoughts the chance to understand and tried to comprehend the situation as you went to a nearby parking lot. Although you know you shouldn’t do it, your mind made you question yourself. What does she got that you don’t have? Comparing your noticeable similarities and your striking differences. Your eyes almost the same color. Is it because she is taller than you? Your hair about the same length. Or because she has a cuter nose then yours? After a few more terrible comparisons you realized that it doesn’t lead to anything. Besides everything that made him fall for her, she also had the courage to fall for the man you’ve always admired. 

Your gaze went up to the sky, trying to see at least some starts in between the dirty nightlights. A few tears fell down your cheek as you thought about your days in Miami. But instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to be happy for your friend. That, regardless how many wrong decisions he made, it ended more then well for him.

Right before you came clean with that and made your way back to the bar to continue the celebration, a familiar voice stopped you.

"y/n?"

[jemmahazelnut]

I'm not a God

Summary: Laxus isn’t satisfied with anything. He isn’t satisfied with his sex life with women, nor with Fairy Tail's wizards. He wants to change the guild, and he wants to become the Master. Fortunately, in all of this he has his loyal right-hand man beside him. (Set before the Battle of Fairy Tail). [Freed/Laxus]

Link: AO3

This story was born because I imagined what a relationship between Laxus and Freed would be like before the battle of Fairy Tail. When Laxus is still an asshole and Freed… well, let's face it, he's not much better. I warn you right away that it will not be a good relationship. The rating is explicit for a reason, this is NSFW.

Enjoy the reading.

WARNING: homophobic language.

I’m not a God

He felt the alcohol go down his throat as chaos reigned around him. The inn bartender continued to brew beer after beer, the waitresses passed the tables taking away the empty glasses and putting down the full ones, the men began to sing and talk in louder tones, and the women began to wink and pay less attention to their necklines. A typical night in an inn.

He glanced around the room and saw Evergreen still alert flirting with a dark-skinned, muscular man. The girl had a mischievous smile on her lips and she had lowered her neckline, revealing more of what she normally did. But Laxus already knew how it would turn out for the poor man: Evergreen would leave him with blue balls and she would like to know she still had sex appeal.

Looking ahead he saw that instead Bickslow was laughing as he walked up the stairs with two girls. One was clinging to his arm, her short skirt raised too high showed part of her ass and the gait was crooked. The other was making out with the boy, a bit clumsy since they were both walking.

The only one who wasn't enjoying himself was him. Well, and Freed. The boy had disappeared a few minutes ago. He always disappeared on those evenings, Laxus had no idea what he was doing. Maybe he was having fun with some women as well as Bickslow did. Or maybe he just didn't like parties. After all, he had never seen Freed get drunk, or flirt with anyone. It was very likely that he had walked away because he didn't like chaos.

Laxus took another sip of beer, trying to focus on the girl who was smiling at him from a nearby table. She was a beautiful girl, without a shadow of a doubt. Her long dark hair framed her face and her red lips were curled in a winking smile. The dress she wore showed practically everything. Her big breasts, her tight waist and when she got up Laxus could see her long legs walking elegantly around the bar.

Despite this, his gaze was drawn more towards the man who drank alone at the bar. For some reason, Laxus found himself staring hard at his exposed chest from his open shirt, his muscular arms flexing each time he threw a dart at the target, and his hard jaw covered with a light beard.

He felt a chair shift and Laxus immediately looked away, seeing that he was Freed. He had come back from wherever he had been up until now. Laxus hoped he hadn't seen whohe was looking at, and picked up the beer again, only to realize it was empty.

“I ordered you another one, it will arrive shortly,” Freed said. Laxus nodded, glancing at him and wondering if he had seen. He couldn't understand it, his gaze was always an impenetrable expression. Either way, he wasn't going to ask, and if Freed ignored it, so much the better. Also, Freed had promised to follow him everywhere years ago, so he needn't have worried. No matter what he found out about him, Freed would stay by his side.

He had to do it. He had promised it.

“I didn't expect to find you here again. You're usually in a room with a girl right at this time,” Freed said. Laxus knew this. Usually he found one, trying hard not to think about the man who had really caught his attention - usually a stranger particularly undressed with a clear attraction to men - and took her to bed. But he couldn't really find the satisfaction he was looking for, and he found himself incredibly envious of Bickslow.

The Seith wizard always managed to have fun, Laxus always saw him attract the attention of more women easily. It wasn't strange, Bickslow was definitely a handsome boy, and he was no doubt more flirtatious than him. Laxus tried to put that thought in the back of his mind. Bickslow was a man, he couldn't think of him as handsome. Just as he couldn't think the same of Freed. Still, those thoughts were hitting him more than they should have in the last few months.

“There aren't any interesting ones,” Laxus replied. It was true, no woman could get his attention. Even though he knew that they were objectively beautiful and that they would have sex with him, he couldn't find one that satisfied him.

The waitress at that moment placed two beers on their table and Laxus immediately took a long sip. He looked up and saw that Bickslow was still at the top of the stairs. He still hadn't been able to reach his room because the two girls had clung to him and made it difficult for him to walk. Laxus gritted his teeth, finding himself envious of Bickslow. Why couldn't he be like that too? Finding a woman and having fun without too many problems?

“Looks like Bickslow will have a good time tonight,” Freed commented as he drank from the mug. Laxus looked away from the Seith wizard.

“Aren't you having fun?” he asked.

“I've already done that,” Freed replied.

Laxus was silent for long seconds. Great, even Freed was having fun. He was the only jerk who couldn't do it.

He dived again on alcohol to have an excuse not to answer. He had never thought about Freed's sex life, he tried not to do it with his guildmates, even if more than a few times he had thought about both members of Raijinshuu. Never on Evergreen, although the girl was very attractive. He found himself nervous again.

“Sex is overrated,” he said dryly. Maybe he should have stopped drinking for that night. He felt Freed's eyes on him and Laxus thanked the fact that it was him and not Bickslow, who would laugh out loud and tell him that he was missing the best thing in life. “A waste of time and in most cases you find women so drunk they don't even know how to give you a blow job,” he growled.

Freed was silent, and Laxus saw for a moment the man at the counter stand up and throw another dart. Laxus's eyes flew to his back tight in a pair of leather pants that left little to his imagination. Because of his alcohol, his defenses were lowering, but he forced himself to return his gaze to the red-lipped girl. Before Freed saw, if he hadn't already. Laxus sincerely hoped not.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go with women,” Freed said. The phrase came very quietly from his mouth and Laxus whirled towards him.

“What?” he asked. Had Freed seen? Oh god, Freed had seen.

“Try sleeping with men. Maybe they satisfy you more,” the rune wizard said clearly. Laxus tensed his jaw and squeezed his fingers on the glass.

“I'm not a fag,” he growled. Freed looked at him. The look betrayed no emotion and Laxus didn't know what to think. If he was disgusted, skeptical or something else. Surely though, he didn't believe his words and that pissed Laxus off. “Do I look like one of them to you?”

“Why you shouldn't be,” Freed retorted, his tone harder than normal. Or maybe it was Laxus who was imagining him, honestly, he didn't care.

“Because I'm not one of those weak queers. I'm a man, damn it,” he snapped. Freed arched an eyebrow and was silent for a moment. Laxus heard the strong beating of his heart in his ears.

“Do you think I'm weak?” Freed asked. Laxus frowned in confusion, wondering what this had to do with what they were talking about. They were talking about something else, not Freed. “When I said I had fun, I forgot to tell you that I did it with a man”.

Laxus felt his mouth dry, and his eyes widen slightly. If it wasn't Freed but anyone else, he would’ve told him that he didn't want to know anything about a gay's sex life. But he was Freed, the wizard who had promised to be with him. He couldn't say anything and it was Freed who kept talking.

“I don't know what your beliefs about us are,” he began. “But I ask you, do you think this makes me weaker and less of a man?” he asked him. Laxus didn't answer, he squeezed his glass even tighter and stared into Freed's blue eyes, which were waiting for an answer. But the answer didn't come and Freed got up from the table. “If you don't think so, then you shouldn't worry about who really attracts you,” he said and then walked away, up the stairs and into his room.

Laxus didn't know what to think.

***

Laxus was angry. No, Laxus was furious. He could have triggered a storm at any moment as he walked into the room where Freed was resting. A single glance at the guildmate was enough to piss him off even more. He had bandages that covered his entire abdomen, his arm was full of wounds and it was a miracle that his limb was still attached to his shoulder.

Freed sat down on the mattress and gave him an indecipherable look.

“What the hell went through your head, huh?” Laxus bellowed.

“That attack would’ve hit you,” Freed said simply. That answer infuriated Laxus even more.

“I would’ve handled it!” he yelled. “What do you think, that I’m not strong enough to be able to fight someone alone?” he growled out of his mind. The sparks flew from his arms and made the room full of static energy, which made the hair on Freed's head stand on end.

“I'm part of your guardhouse,” Freed reminded him harshly. That pissed Laxus even more, because he knew Freed was right.

“Well, I don't need a fucking bodyguard!” he screamed. “Nor do I need your help. I fight my battles alone, don't you dare get in the way anymore,” he growled.

“We were all fighting together,” Freed said as he got out of bed. Laxus let his eyes wander around his body for a moment. Although thanks to the magical healing of Oshibana's healer his friend was now much better, the fact remained that Freed had hurt himself for him. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but this time Freed had long lost consciousness and Laxus had honestly felt scared. Especially after seeing the exaggerated amount of blood that had gushed out of his wounds.

“I was fighting their leader, you had to manage his underlings,” Laxus growled.

“You needed help,” Freed said, raising his voice.

“I don't need your fucking help, I'm the God of Thunder!” Laxus yelled and a bolt of lightning shot from his arm, hitting the room lamp and letting the room darken slightly. The few rays of the sun that were covered by clouds that day illuminated the bedroom very little.

Laxus felt more electricity pass through his arms but struggled to calm him down, even though he still felt pissed. He was concerned. But above all, pissed off. Because Freed didn't have to protect him, he didn't have to come between him and that shot. Because he was Laxus Dreyar, the Thunder God, he could fight alone.

Freed was silent for long seconds, scanning his face and then he opened his mouth to speak. His voice came out lower than normal, but still firm.

“Is that really what pisses you off?” he asked him and without waiting for an answer he continued. “You know how much I admire you and how much I believe in you, you know I think you’re the most powerful wizard I know,” Freed said. For some reason knowing that Freed thought those things about him made him proud. Perhaps because he was the first along with Evergreen and Bickslow to think so, and that he didn't give credit to his father or grandfather. And he knew that Freed really meant it. He knew that Freed really compared him to a God.

“Well, it seems you didn't think that today,” Laxus growled between his teeth.

“Even a God needs help”.

“Not me,” Laxus said quickly.

“Maybe,” Freed said. “But I chose to defend you at the cost of my life,” he added. That phrase for some reason didn’t please Laxus, who felt a strange discomfort in his stomach. He didn't want it. He didn't want Freed to put his life back for him.

“I don't need you,” he repeated, albeit less angry than before.

“What's the real reason you're pissed off?” Freed asked.

Laxus didn't answer, refusing to say it. Refusing to say he was worried, that he didn't want his friends to die for him. Friends? Since when did he have friends? He studied Freed's face, whose features had softened. It was an expression that Laxus saw a few times, and only when they were alone. Something that addressed only him. Something that somehow made him feel warm inside.

Perhaps that was why Laxus gave in. Or maybe it was the terror that still coursed through his body, due to the memory of Freed passing out during the battle. The fact is that Laxus pushed Freed against the wall, knocking his back against the hard concrete. Then he closed the distance between them and brought their lips together, in a hungry kiss that he had wanted to give him for too long. Precisely, from the night he discovered that Freed was like him.

The kiss terrified him instantly and at the same time turned him on. The most exciting thing was that Freed was reciprocating. Indeed, he was doing it.

He had placed his hands on his shoulders and was moving his lips over him, with such force that Laxus felt weak. Because Laxus wanted to stay between those lips forever. He hated feeling like this, but at the same time he didn't want to stop. Without even realizing it, he was clutching his hands on Freed's bare hips, bringing their bodies together and enjoying the closeness he had long desired.

He didn't know if it was because it was Freed, or if it was because he was the first man he was kissing, but Laxus found himself addicted. He wanted more. And he wanted it right away.

He opened the palm of his hand and ran it all over his torso, enjoying those muscles that so far he had only been able to admire from a distance. God, he wanted it. He wanted it so badly that he already felt hard in his pants. He wanted him so badly that he wanted to drag him to bed and bang him without thinking.

Indeed, he did. He grabbed Freed by the hips and pushed him towards the bed. The rune wizard surprisingly didn’t object, he folded his hands around Laxus's neck and intensified the kiss, making their tongues collide in an explosion of emotions. Laxus lowered his hand until he reached Freed's crotch. At that moment the boy beneath him parted from his lips panting.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Isn't it obvious?” Laxus asked hoarsely.

“No,” Freed gasped as the blonde tugged at his erection.

“Sex,” Laxus replied. “Just sex,” he specified.

“You know I'm a man, right?” Freed asked and Laxus stiffened. They hadn't spoken since that time, but Freed apparently hadn't forgotten. Obviously.

“Shut up,” he growled.

“I just want to warn you, since last time you didn't seem willing to have sex with a fag,” Freed said a bit poisonous. It was amazing how hard his tone came out despite how much he was panting under his touches.

“I said shut up,” Laxus repeated. Freed didn't listen to him.

“Are you really capable of having sex with a man? Are you really ready to open your legs for me? “. Laxus tensed instantly, but he didn't take his hand out of Freed's crotch.

“What makes you think I'll be bottom?” he answered him in a roaring growl.

“What makes you believe that I will adapt to whatever you want,” was Freed's immediate response. Laxus didn’t answer and stopped the movement of his hand. He knew that as loyal as Freed was to him, he wasn't going to have sex with him just because Laxus wanted. And Laxus didn't want to force him. Besides, he didn't even know if Freed would be interested. True, he liked men, but he didn't necessarily like him. He fucking made a fool of himself and what was worse was that Freed was his friend. Or a person Laxus cared about to some extent anyway. He didn't want to force him. But he wanted him. So much.

Freed's expression softened as he had done just before, and the boy placed a hand on his cheek. A somewhat sweet gesture that calmed the heartbeat in Laxus's chest.

“What do you want, Laxus?” he asked again, in a sweet tone that clashed with the usual Freed he was used to. It clashed with the Captain of the Raijinshuu who took the situation in hand without scruples. Laxus swallowed and looked at him uncertainly, feeling obnoxiously weak again.

“I just want to have sex with a man,” he said in a hoarse voice. Freed nodded.

“Okay,” he said and Laxus almost didn't believe it. But he didn't have time to think about his answer as Freed's mouth was on him and his hands pulling up his shirt and down his pants.

He found himself naked before he could even realize it, with Freed equally naked under him. It was going all too fast, a moment before he was talking to Freed and now he found himself rubbing against him. Against his muscular body that he had secretly admired, against his cock that was already losing a few drops.

He was fucking horny.

And Freed was perfect. And too damn fast. His hands before were all over him and then they had taken lube from the nightstand next to the bed. His legs before were tangled in his, and then spread apart as he prepared himself beneath him.

And Laxus was going crazy at the sight. He couldn't believe it. He was about to have sex with a man. He was about to have sex with Freed. He couldn't get it that he felt Freed's hands on his cock, massaging and sliding a condom over it. Laxus couldn't hold back a groan.

“We can stop whenever you want,” Freed said out of breath, red cheeks and dilated pupils. Laxus paused for a moment to look at him. He honestly had never seen Freed in those states. He had never seen the stiff Captain of the Raijinshuu out of a firm expression. And now his face was open beneath him, clearly aroused, his hair untangled and untidy on the pillow. Laxus thought he’d never forget Freed's messy sight.

“I don't want to stop,” he retorted and positioned himself between his legs. He pushed into him and felt a warm sensation radiate from his groin all over his body. The heat rise to his skin. He hadn't moved and was already ready to come.

He filled Freed completely, and opened his eyes that he didn't realize he had closed. Freed had an ecstatic expression under him. An expression that Laxus didn’t want to forget. They breathed into each other's mouth for a few seconds, remaining still so that Freed got used to it.

Then Laxus began to move. He started off slowly, enjoying the expressions and moans that left Freed's lips. It was fucking gorgeous. As the speed increased, the excitement rose more and more and the noises they both made increased in volume, filling the room around them. He saw Freed grab his cock and start masturbating, and Laxus felt even hotter.

He didn’t want it to end, but he felt that his orgasm was rising. He tried to restrain himself and leaned over Freed, madly kissing his neck and snatching another moan from his mouth. Immediately afterwards he felt something wet on his stomach, and everything tighten around him.

Laxus could no longer restrain himself and came breathing and groaning into Freed's neck, continuing to push until he felt completely emptied. At that point he collapsed on top of the boy, without immediately detaching himself and inhaling the intense perfume of Freed.

Honestly, he couldn't feel better.

He stood there for long seconds before moving away from Freed and lying down beside him. For the first time he felt fully satisfied. He now understood what Bickslow meant when he said that sex was great. He remained silent, catching his breath, until Freed sat up in bed and glanced at him.

Painfully Laxus noticed that he had returned to his usual impassive expression. Freed picked up the clothes from the floor, put on boxers and pants and stood up.

“I hope you’re satisfied. See you tomorrow, the train is at eight,” he said and then walked out of the room, leaving Laxus alone.

He didn’t know why but he felt his heart tighten and a sudden desire to cry. It was not sadness, nor happiness. It was something he couldn't understand.

***

The lips slid down his neck and Laxus found himself holding back a groan without success. Freed's hands were resting on his chest. His thighs were wrapped around his hips. Freed's rhythmic movement sinking against his cock was sending Laxus out of control. The pleasure kept increasing, like the heaviness of their breaths, and the speed of Freed's thrusts.

“Shit” Freed escaped when he let Laxus' cock go all the way in. Laxus shivered. He loved hearing those sounds. He loved hearing that Freed was having fun too. He loved knowing that this wouldn't be the last night, but that there would be another one.

And then another.

And yet another.

The first time he didn’t know that it would become a habit, and now instead at the end of each mission they always met in a room of the inn. And Laxus was waiting for nothing but that. He turns off the light, turns off his mind and lets himself be overwhelmed by instinct.

It was all he wanted. Everything he needed.

Freed increased the thrusts, becoming more and more frantic and wild. Laxus wrapped Freed's cock in his fingers and started pumping. He didn't know why, but he wanted Freed to enjoy as much as he did. Maybe it was just a matter of pride, but he always wanted to make sure his friend went back to his bed next time.

And then Freed's moans. He loved hearing them, he loved hearing Freed swear. It didn't always happen. To tell the truth it happened a few times, and those times Laxus always felt overwhelmed by excitement. There was nothing better than Freed letting himself go to the wilder side of him, abandoning his cold expression and letting the most perverse noises come out of his lips.

“God,” Freed gasped on his face. The broken voice, his face showed an expression of pleasure. Then he came, slowing his thrusts and splashing on Laxus's hand.

“Fuck,” Laxus moaned looking at Freed in the faint light from the window. As usual, that was enough to send him over, and Laxus found himself cumming in the condom, grabbing Freed's hips and slamming him into him.

When he felt the orgasm end, Freed collapsed on top of him, sinking his face into his neck and taking deep breaths. That tickled Laxus's neck, but the boy refused to move, enjoying the contact between their naked bodies. He just wanted to prolong that feeling as much as possible. Feeling Freed's bare skin, his sweat and his lips.

But as usual Freed moved quickly from him, sat down on the mattress and as if nothing had happened began to dress. Laxus let him do it, still lying there with shortness of breath. After all, they were just having sex.

What did it matter if Freed cared about him on missions? What did it matter if Freed said he was willing to do anything for him? What did it matter if Laxus felt shudder every time he saw his guilmate in danger? What did it matter if every time Freed left his room, Laxus felt his heart skip?

It remained only sex.

And it was fine like that.

Laxus needed nothing more.

Every now and then he imagined what it would be like to sleep with Freed, what it would be like to wake up with Freed in his arms. He imagined the sweetest expression Freed had given him only a few times, but which Laxus still had imprinted on his mind. He imagined a sweet kiss, maybe a smile. Their hands touch. Their breaths mingle with the morning light, and not with that of the night lamp.

And every time Laxus hated himself. Why did he have to think about those things? They were futile, useless, pathetic things. He didn't need sweet gestures, he just needed to come. Using Freed's body only to enjoy. In those moments it didn't matter that Freed was his friend, that he was the captain of the Raijinshuu.

In those moments there were only two men fucking.

Freed was now fully dressed, grabbed his sword and neatly tied his hair. Laxus knew they would say goodbye longer this time. The Raijinshuu would undertake a mission that would keep them busy for many months. Laxus didn't know why, but for the first time he felt a little empty at the idea of them leaving. For the first time he felt like joining their mission. But he wouldn't do it. It was the Raijinshuu who followed him, not he who followed them.

“We leave in the morning, I think we should be back in three months,” Freed said with his usual expressionless tone.

“Ok,” Laxus nodded, showing no interest. He almost gave in, asking him to stay, but his words got caught in his throat and Freed walked out of the room, saying goodnight.

Laxus didn’t answer, and as had already happened when his guildmate left his room, he felt a desperate urge to cry. If until then he had managed to hold back that stupid instinct, at that moment it all seemed too much.

He just wanted to get under the covers and sob. Instead, he got up, got dressed, and walked out of the inn, looking for a dark guild to take out all his anger on.

***

“Do you believe? That rookie took an S-class mission. You should’ve seen the old man's face, and he dared to ask me to go get him,” Laxus said with an arrogant grin at the Lacrima in front of him.

It was Freed who had called him to brief him on their mission. After talking about what the Raijinshuu was doing, Laxus told how Natsu, the winged cat and a blonde whose name he couldn’t remember, had taken an S-class mission.

“And let's not forget about Mirajane. I almost hoped to see her demon, but that girl has now lost all her strength,” he said, resting his chin on his hand. Freed raised an eyebrow.

“Did he take an S-class mission? This is enough to expel him from the guild,” said the rune wizard, evidently not very interested in Natsu's fate. It was actually difficult even for Laxus to see him interested in anything outside of him and Raijinshuu. Maybe that's why he was the ideal person to have by his side.

“Yeah, but I bet the old man won't,” Laxus commented. “In any case I don't think it will be necessary, I doubt they’ll come back alive to Magnolia,” he said nonchalantly.

“Didn't the Master send anyone to take them back?” Freed asked.

“Yes, Gray. But I bet it won't do any good,” the Dragon Slayer replied. “So much the better. Three less useless people in Fairy Tail,” he commented harshly. Plus the cat. Freed didn't answer right away, and Laxus scanned his face, feeling a strange sensation in his stomach.

He wanted to talk to the wizard as much as possible. He didn't matter what, just hearing him was enough to make Laxus feel better. Maybe because he knew Freed would back him up. Or maybe because, even though Laxus hated to admit it, he missed him. Well, he missed having sex with him, it was normal. Laxus had needs, and Freed knew how to satisfy them.

This was all he missed about the boy.

“I was thinking of a new rule to introduce to Fairy Tail when you will be the Master,” Freed said. Laxus became curious, Freed always had intelligent ideas. Unlike those idiots who frequented the guild, Freed didn't speak out of turn. “Downgrading a wizard from S-class. Mirajane hasn't been fighting for years now, I don't understand why she should still be considered an S-class wizard, when she clearly can't take on missions of that level.”

Laxus smiled and found himself in agreement.

“Well, when I will be the Master, I will also introduce this rule. Also, I'll hunt the weaker wizards who only make us look bad,” he said. Freed nodded.

“I think it's a good idea. Fairy Tail under you will thrive, I'm sure,” he said. Laxus grinned, taking pride in that sentence. How much he wanted Freed to be there, how much he wanted to flap their lips together and undress him.

Unfortunately, however, he couldn’t do it, and unfortunately Freed greeted him, telling him that he had homework to do, but not to hesitate to call him if he had to talk to him. They said goodbye and then closed the communication.

Laxus looked at the empty Lacrima for a while. The grin that he had printed on his face vanished, leaving room only for a bitter expression. He really wanted Freed to be there.

***

Laxus was getting pissed off more and more. The more the weeks passed, the more he realized that someone had to put an end to that farce. Fairy Tail had decided to defend a stupid blonde from Phantom Lord, and those two bitches had even asked him for help. As if Laxus would deign to help them.

Maybe they still didn't understand how things worked. Everyone was gossiping about Fairy Tail, because of the wizards who were part of it. That blonde was no exception. She was a stellar spirit sorceress who was unable to fight and who walked around with Natsu and the blue cat. To be sure, Laxus hoped they’d lose and that Phantom Lord would be able to kidnap the little girl and take her out of the guild.

Although on the one hand, he hated to think that Fairy Tail would be defeated by another guild. He wasn’t surprised, however, by now the guild's strength had diminished over the years, due to his grandfather and his pathetic character.

Laxus had called Freed after arguing with Cana and Mirajane. Freed had agreed with Laxus, a sorceress who caused so much trouble in the guild was better to lose her than to find her, he had said. But then he had added that it would be better to help them, and that if they were closer the Raijinshuu would intervene. Not so much for the interest of the blonde, but to establish which was the strongest guild between Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord.

That revelation had pissed Laxus even more. He hated when Freed contradicted him. It happened a few times, but it was still irritating. Laxus had closed the communication almost immediately after, and had felt almost guilty for not having helped his guildmates. That hadn't changed his actions. By now he had told the two bitches that he wouldn't help them, and so he would.

Nonetheless, that episode ended well for Fairy Tail. Apparently, they had managed to win, despite the pathetic members who were part of it.

Too bad that a few weeks later the old man had decided to bring two members of Phantom Lord into Fairy Tail. Laxus was furious. Not only did the pathetic blonde remain in the guild despite all the damage she had caused, but now the two assholes who had caused trouble for Fairy Tail were entering as well.

Laxus now thought the old man had gone mad. Completely. It didn't fucking make sense, all that bullshit about forgiving people was getting over the top. He couldn't wait to beat the two assholes.

He couldn't wait for the Raijinshuu to return, so he’d finally turn the guild around and work out the plan. He needed Freed to do it. His mind and his runes, his power and maybe even his ass. Yes, a fuck would definitely have done him good at that point.

***

The Raijinshuu had finally returned from their mission. They had worked out the plan, and even though Freed had argued about a few things - like advising him to increase the training of the wizards before kicking them out of the guild - Laxus felt satisfied.

As he had thought, Freed would be very useful to him. He had explained to them which Jutsu Shiki would draw, forcing all guildmates to fight. He had shown them from the Magnolia map where he’d place them and Bickslow and Evergreen had been thrilled with the idea. Also, he’d set a lot of traps around the city, and make sure the Master couldn't leave the guild. Laxus was already enjoying it as he imagined the old man's face when they started the Battle of Fairy Tail.

He was going to be a lot of fun, and he already knew what it was going to change for the guild. First, he already knew which wizards to hunt. Although Freed had told him that training them could increase their skills, Laxus remained convinced of his idea. Mirajane couldn’t train, she no longer used any kind of offensive magic, Nab was completely useless, and Visitor made him nervous every time Laxus looked at him.

In addition, the two members of Phantom Lord would be kicked in the ass. At least, Freed agreed on that. Those two didn't deserve a second chance. Not after how they destroyed their building, and not after how they ruined Fairy Tail's reputation.

It was all already decided, all prepared. Laxus could already see himself sitting above everyone as a Master, bringing Fairy Tail to splendor. With Freed, Evergreen and Bickslow alongside.

Especially Freed.

Speaking of the wizard, he was happy that he was back too so he could finally have some fun. He felt a bit pathetic to admit to himself that he had missed Freed. Ultimately, however, a man had needs. It was normal for Freed's body to be missing.

“Come with me,” Laxus ordered as soon as they finished discussing the plan and Freed didn't object, following him without question. That was another reason Laxus liked him. In fact, there were many reasons why he liked Freed. Because he was loyal, smart, powerful, handsome, damn good in bed and… Laxus banished those last thoughts. They were irrelevant.

They entered Laxus' room and Freed closed the door behind. Then, without saying a word, Laxus pushed Freed against the wall, pretending to kiss and touch him. Fortunately, Freed didn't object.

Like the first time they went to bed, it all happened very quickly. Laxus tore off Freed's clothes, Freed undressed Laxus without much preamble, their lips sought each other as if they had waited no more for those three months. And indeed, Laxus had.

He had almost feared that Freed had forgotten about him while fucking with other men, but the boy was there. He was kissing him with such force that he seemed almost desperate. But it was Laxus who felt desperate. It was he who had craved that touch. His hands everywhere. Their chests against each other. Their cocks rubbing.

Laxus dragged Freed onto the bed. He didn't stop to look at him, instead, he immediately flung himself on his neck. He bit hard and hearing the wizard's uncontrolled moan sent a jolt to his cock. Oh yeah, he wanted to hear all the noises from him. He wanted to hear that Freed liked it. He wanted to know that Freed wanted him as much as he did.

He wanted to know that maybe, maybe, Freed had missed him too. It was ridiculous. Freed wouldn't miss anyone. Freed was an emotionless man, he only thought about his duties and that was why Laxus wanted him as his right-hand man.

Freed's hand reached his cock and began to wank it, and Laxus moaned on the wizard's neck. He was already panting and they hadn't started yet. His head was already beginning to cloud with pleasure, and he reached out on the bedside table. In a frenzy he dropped everything, but he grabbed the lube and slipped his fingers between Freed's legs.

After getting them wet, he pushed a finger into Freed's ass, and was surprised to hear the wizard already cursing.

“Shit, Laxus”.

Oh God. How good his name sounded in his voice, in that tone. He wanted to hear more.

Laxus pushed his finger, then added the second and enjoyed the boy's moans. It had never happened that Freed was this loud from the start, but Laxus liked it. In fact, he wanted more. He damn wanted more. He didn't think he'd ever wanted anyone so much in his entire life.

Laxus tried to spread it out quickly, because he honestly couldn't help himself. He just wanted to get inside him and fuck him. He hit the right spot and a loud moan filled the room. Freed took his hand off his cock, then turned on his stomach.

“Fuck me,” he ordered in a hoarse voice. A shiver of excitement ran through Laxus, who didn’t have it repeated a second time. He slipped on the condom and pressed his member against Freed's hole, then entered.

“Oh God,” Laxus moaned as he grabbed Freed's hips. Fuck, he was finally there. He didn't wait to start moving, and slowly and deeply thrusted into Freed. He wanted to fill him, he wanted to have him, he wanted to hear everything Freed had to moan about. He wanted to do it until dawn, and then start over.

From slower and deeper thrusts, he passed to ever more rapid, inconstant and purely savage thrusts. Stronger and stronger he continued to push and it took very little for both of them to come. Freed stained the sheet under them, while Laxus continued to push himself against him still in the throes of orgasm.

Perhaps the most intense he'd had in his life. He wanted to cry, and hold Freed, and never break away from him.

“Freed” moaned “Oh fuck Freed, I missed you,” he moaned without even realizing it. The orgasm ended and he collapsed on top of him, letting go and panting in Freed's hair. Finally breathing in the smell of him, finally holding him in his arms.

He didn't want to break away. He didn't want that moment to end. He wanted to stretch it for eternity.

Then something woke him from his trance. Freed's voice. Soft, sweet and warm.

“I missed you too,” he said.

Laxus let out a sigh, feeling a mad desire to hold him close. Instead, he realized what they had said and panic enveloped him. What the fuck had he thought of? It didn't matter that Freed reciprocated, he didn't have to say it. He didn't have to make himself so weak, so pathetic, so fragile.

Laxus released his embrace, slipped off Freed and threw the condom aside. Then he sat on the bed, waiting for Freed to leave as usual. The rune mage turned to him, and when Laxus looked at him he saw that he had a strangely sweet and almost loving expression. An expression that Laxus found himself wanting to always see. While they were making love, before and after.

A shiver ran through him. Since when did he think of sex as making love? The one with Freed was just and purely sex. Nothing more.

Freed reached out and brushed his cheek in a caress and Laxus remained motionless, while his heart was beating madly and a frighteningly affectionate heat filled his stomach. What the hell was going on?

“You're going to be a fantastic Master,” Freed said softly. God, that tone Laxus had craved was making him feel weak. The Dragon Slayer turned away so as not to have to look him in the eye.

“I’ve to become Master first. Have you written all the Jutsu Shiki?” Laxus asked, forcing himself to have a controlled tone. Freed was silent for a moment, then withdrew his hand and assumed his usual impassive expression again.

“I'm going to finish the final details,” he said as he dressed. Laxus wanted to ask him to stay. He wanted to ask him to sleep with him, not to abandon him, to read into him as only he knew how to do. Instead, he remained silent as Freed left the room.

The only reason he was able to sleep was because he was sure Freed would stay close to him.

***

It was finished. Fairy Tail, the missions, the adventures with the Raijinshuu, the nights with Freed. It was all over. And all because he had acted like an idiot. All because he had been acting selfish, because he had gone beyond his initial idea. Because he hadn't been able to stop. Because he had decided that becoming a Master was his goal.

He didn't focus on the strength of the guild, not only that. He had felt defeated, and he had never been defeated. Never, before that time. And now that he was, it was all over.

Now he had to tell his companions, and Laxus's heart clenched. He had seen them before he went to talk to his grandfather. He had seen Bickslow's wounds after he had fought Loke. He had seen Evergreen's bad mood after she was defeated by Erza. And he had seen the wounds on Freed's body.

Most of all, though, he had seen the pain in his eyes. He had seen it at the cathedral, but he had ignored it. Then he had seen it when Freed had silently accompanied him home to take care of him. Freed hadn't said a word, he had disinfected and bandaged his wounds. He hadn't said anything, but his expression spoke for him.

Because, for once, his face wasn't stiff and expressionless. This time Freed had been completely open to his emotions. He was disappointed, discouraged, guilty. Laxus hadn't even thanked him after Freed finished blindfolding him.

On the other hand, he had forced Freed to sit on the bed and had treated his wounds. He had never done this before. He usually let Bickslow and Evergreen do it. This time, however, Laxus wanted to make him understand that he was sorry for having dragged him into something like this. That he was sorry he attacked him at the cathedral, that he was sorry he ordered him to kill.

So, for the first time, Laxus had run his hands over Freed’s body not to fuck him, or to enjoy his muscles. He had done it only and solely to take care of him, to show him something. Something he couldn't say or put into words. Freed had let him do it, he hadn't asked any questions. He hadn't said anything.

Which was odd, Freed always had something to tell him. He always had the ideal words in his mouth, whether it was cheering him up, or making him think. But this time he didn't have them.

Laxus finally spoke, telling him he was going to talk to his grandfather, and Freed didn't answer. He just nodded, then turned to the window and let his gaze no longer rest on him. Laxus had waited a couple of seconds before exiting the room, hoping to hear an answer. When he realized it wasn't coming, he went out.

He had faced his grandfather, and now the knowledge of having to get out of Fairy Tail was hitting him. He had to tell Freed, Bickslow and Evergreen. But first, he wanted to talk to Freed alone. He felt the need to do it, to tell him that the nights they had spent together weren't just a surge. He needed to do it before he left, and he didn't even know why. But the idea of not seeing him for the next few months was killing him.

He entered Freed's house and walked up the stairs to the boy's bedroom. He knocked and heard his friend's voice answer. Laxus entered and saw that the wizard hadn’t moved from the position he had left him. Freed was still sitting on the mattress, staring at the window. For a moment his eyes rested on Laxus, but he still said nothing.

“I talked to Grandpa,” Laxus said, closing the door behind him. Freed looked at him again in silence, perhaps waiting to hear the rest. At least, Laxus hoped so. Because he needed Freed to want him, that he didn't hate him. Even though he deserved Freed’s hatred, he didn't want it.

But Freed didn't say anything, he didn't ask for anything. Maybe he wasn't interested. Maybe he just wanted him to go away. Maybe he was only there because he was too dutiful. Because he didn't want to back down from the promise he had made years ago. Maybe he would be glad to know that Laxus was going to leave.

Those thoughts broke something inside him. Laxus began to sob, putting his hands to his face and letting his true emotions come to the surface for the first time in years. Not the anger with which he had persisted in covering everything up. Not the violence he had used as a shield. Only heavy sobbing and tears.

He could take it all, but not Freed's hatred. He realized, he couldn't do it. He realized that he loved him. That he really did. That he wasn't mad at him because Freed doubted his strength, but that he did it because Laxus was terrified of his death. That he wasn't pissed off at the dark guild because they made him nervous, but because Freed was gone. That the pain he felt every time Freed walked out of his room was nothing more than pain not to be reciprocated. That sex with Freed was not just sex, but a lifeline. That the way he'd slammed into his body the night before was desperation, for not having seen him after three full months.

Laxus advanced towards Freed and when he caught up with him, he fell to his knees, continuing to sob without being able to restrain himself. He rested his forehead on Freed's knee and shivered at the contact, terrified that Freed might kick him out.

“I'm sorry,” he said. His voice came out strangled and he feared Freed hadn't understood. “I'm sorry,” he repeated. “I'm so sorry, Freed, so much,” he cried.

He deserved his hatred, he deserved it all. Instead, he felt Freed's fingers in his hair, gently massaging his head. Laxus continued to cry, not having the courage to look up to meet Freed’s eyes, he didn’t know what they would show.

Maybe hate, contempt or disappointment. Because Laxus had let him down.

He continued to sob without caring that anyone could hear him, lulled only by the caresses of Freed, who despite everything, was not pushing him away. That despite everything, was still taking care of him.

Long minutes passed before Laxus recovered. His eyes still swollen he looked up and was surprised to see that Freed's face was streaked with silent tears. He widened his eyes slightly. He had never seen the boy cry. And it was his fault. A squeeze in his heart hit him and Laxus reached out and ran a thumb over his cheek to wipe it away.

Freed looked down at him and smiled sadly at him.

“I'm sorry too,” he said.

Laxus shook his head. “No, it's my fault.”

“Not only,” Freed said, then leaned over and ran his hands over Laxus’ face, carefully wiping his cheeks. Laxus let him do it, wondering how long he'd craved those sweet cures from him. Once Laxus felt his face dry, Freed didn’t part with him. He held his face in his hands, looking at him with a disarming sweetness that made Laxus feel fragile. He had long wanted Freed to look at him that way, but he didn't want it to happen that way.

“I’ve to get out of Fairy Tail,” he revealed. Freed frowned slightly, then seemed to understand and his eyes clouded with a sadness that Laxus didn’t understand. Which somehow made him feel good and bad at the same time. Freed still cared about him on some level, but Laxus remained his source of pain.

“I love you,” Laxus whispered, certain that if he didn't say it now, he wouldn't have the courage to do it. He saw Freed's eyes widen slightly and his mouth open, but no sound came out. Laxus needed to say it, even if it was perhaps the worst time.

“It was never just sex.” It was love. “I missed you terribly in the last three months” And I will miss you very much in the next months. “Freed... I love you, and I'm sorry to tell you now, and I'm sorry I made you...” his eyes filled with tears again. He felt pathetic, but he couldn't stop them. His cheeks got wet again and Laxus sobbed. “I made you fight against others, I'm sorry I dragged you into my plan, almost hit you. I... I don't know what was on my mind. I'm sorry Freed.” He cried and just wanted to lower his head and hide from Freed's eyes. But Freed wouldn't let him, held his face up and walked over to him.

“I love you too, Laxus.” The sentence came out sweet and with a surprisingly firm tone. Laxus blinked to shed more tears that prevented him from seeing clearly. But he had heard it. Freed had really said it.

The rune mage leaned over him, and Laxus lifted his chin and straightened his back. For the first time, they shared a sweet kiss that didn't taste like sex. That kiss smelled of tears, sadness and love. All those feelings were confusing Laxus, who could only reciprocate and hope it wasn't a dream.

But it wasn’t a dream, because there was nothing perfect. If it had been a dream, he and Freed would have gone to sleep together and started dating. Maybe they’d try to make a date. It would have been awkward, but sweet. Maybe they’d share a few kisses, they’d hug each other without necessarily having to have sex, and maybe Laxus would finally feel good.

But that was the reality, and nothing like that would have happened. Laxus would leave and leave Freed in Magnolia. They wouldn’t see each other for who knows how long, and then, if and when he returned, who knows if Freed would continue to love him.

They broke the kiss and for long seconds they looked into each other's eyes. Laxus felt his heart explode. Never before would he have wanted to stay in Fairy Tail as he did now. And right now he had to leave. He needed it, and he knew it. He had done enormous damage, he had fought against his guildmates, he had thought of killing them just to be able to reach his goal. He had never felt so disgusting.

“I have to go,” Laxus said hoarsely.

“I know,” Freed said. Laxus groaned faintly, almost fearing that Freed didn't really care. “I know,” Freed repeated. “I don't want to let you go, but I know it's for the best. For you, and for us”.

“For us?” Laxus asked faintly.

“We haven't had a really good relationship for two people who love each other, have we?” Freed asked. No, they hadn't had it at all. “I never should have left after those nights. I'm so sorry Laxus. Know that I didn't want to, that it has always been difficult for me to leave your bed”.

That revelation gave him warmth at the height of his heart. Laxus stared at Freed silently, realizing for the first time that that was all he'd wanted to hear from the first time they had sex. Maybe he wasn't in love with Freed at the time, but he certainly cared more about him than he wanted to admit.

“And know that I’ll wait for you. That my love for you will not diminish, even if I have never shown it to you”.

You did it instead, Laxus thought. Freed had taken care of him, had followed him, had been by his side in the worst moments. Laxus was the one who had done nothing for Freed.

“But we both need it. We have both misbehaved with our guildmates, we have had misconceptions and it’s time for us to take some time to improve. To think about our mistakes and become better people,” Freed said. Laxus nodded, knowing that his friend was right. That didn't make him feel any better.

“I don't want it to… end,” Laxus admitted. Their relationship, whatever relationship they had. Even if it wasn't the kind of relationship he wanted to have. Freed smiled lovingly.

“This isn't our end,” he replied. “It's just the end of a bad relationship. We weren't ready, neither you nor me. And we certainly aren't now. But I'm sure we will be in a couple of months,” he said with conviction. “And I'm willing to wait and start over, and do it right.” Laxus felt better about that promise. “Are you willing to ...?”.

“Yes,” he replied immediately. Freed smiled slightly, and Laxus felt his heart fill with joy at the knowledge that he had snatched a smile from his friend. He stood up smiling, even though the sense of sadness still lingered inside him.

“I don't know when I'll be back,” he admitted.

“It doesn't matter,” Freed said as he stood up in front of him. “Take the time you need”. Laxus nodded and ran his gaze to Freed's features, wanting to impress his friend's face on his head.

“When do you leave?” Freed asked.

“Tonight,” Laxus decided. The more he put off, the worse it would be. Freed's gaze wavered for a moment.

“Don't you watch the parade?” he asked him.

“Better not,” Laxus said. “I'm going to say bye to Evergreen and Bickslow too,” he said. Freed nodded and followed him. By the time they reached Magnolia Park with their friends, both of them had already run out of tears.

***

He wasn't gone yet. He had exited Magnolia after seeing the Fantasia parade, but he hadn't taken many more steps. Laxus kept thinking about everything that had happened. He had never had such an intense day of emotions, but somehow, he wasn't feeling bad now. He had cried with Freed, then had cried when he saw the parade, and now he felt almost better. Maybe crying didn't hurt that much, maybe it was necessary to get rid of the pain.

He looked up at the star-filled sky and thought back to the conversation he had had with his grandfather. How Natsu had spoken to him without rancor. How Freed told he loved him. How Evergreen and Bickslow had cried when he left.

He would miss Fairy Tail. All Fairy Tail. Not just Freed. And not just Evergreen and Bickslow. Fairy Tail had been his home anyway.

Laxus looked at the nearby city and then decided to return. Just a moment, just for a last goodbye to the person to whom he owed so much.

With the speed of lightning he reached Freed's house, landing on his terrace. He wasn't surprised to see that the boy was still awake and reading. He passed the half-open window and the wizard turned to him.

“Hey, I just wanted to… say goodbye,” Laxus said. Again. Freed motioned for him to join him on the bed. Laxus hesitated for a moment, but then he joined him and lay down under the sheets beside Freed.

“Are you staying here tonight?” Freed asked.

“No, I…”.

“Stay,” Freed said. Laxus softened his gaze and silently accepted.

They didn't have sex that night. They didn't even make love. They just slept, embraced and with their legs intertwined. Laxus was the first to fall asleep, his nose buried in Freed's hair, thinking that such a night wouldn’t repeat itself for the next few months. He too was the first to wake up the next day, with Freed in his arms, breathing deeply asleep.

Laxus slipped silently out of bed, without waking him. He left him a light kiss on the forehead and knowing that he wouldn’t be able to greet him a third time, he left the terrace and walked towards the Magnolia exit. He walked the streets in the first rays of the sun. He left the city and walked towards the path, leaving everything behind, but with a promise.

He would come back and become a better man.