#why does anyone ever let me a have a LICK of alcohol

[troybarnesbabygirlconfirmed]

i hate when im drunk bc my ass is like TAKE A PICTURE OF ME I LOOK SO COOL and this is the picture

[buzzcutlip]

( this is carmenberzattosgf on my main!!)

Time for a horny request 🚶‍♀️I’ve been thinking HEAVILY on a fwb situation with lip while in college 🧎🏼‍♀️ and when he hears you went out with some frat bro he gets so jealous and it’s a “I can fuck you better than him” type of situation

You know I love Lip! This one is for you, Olive 💌

Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Explicit 800+ words

Never in a million years would you guess that Lip Gallagher is into you. He’s annoying, cocky, loud, and probably a borderline alcoholic and criminal—exactly the type of guy your parents warned you about. That’s why you find him so attractive. Secretly.

He likes the bad boy reputation, and you know him well enough to know that it’s mostly an act. You’ve had a soft spot for each other ever since the first year. He would help you with trigonometry, and in return, you would pick him up when drunk in faraway bars. The friends-with-benefits situation is another level to your friendship.

Lip’s room is dark when you stumble in, and he instantly pushes you toward the bed, tackling you down into the sheets. They smell and feel fresh.

Your puffer jacket disappears with remarkable speed, as well as your cardigan. Lip’s quick and efficient when he’s getting you out of your clothes, like always. He just seems a tad more frantic tonight.

“Hey,” you try to slow him down when he’s attempting to get his hand in your panties without unbuttoning your skinny jeans. “What’s gotten into you?”

Lip only looks up when you tug at the collar of his shirt.

“The captain of the lacrosse team, really?” he says, and suddenly everything makes sense.

You throw your head back as you laugh. “I didn’t know we were exclusive.”

Lip bites at your bare neck, hard and mean, and you frown. “Yeah—but I’m still the best.”

You roll your eyes and pout, staying quiet as Lip gets up and switches the light on. Even if you wanted to be shy, there’s no option like that with Lip—he wants to see you and everything when you fuck.

---

The third time Lip tries to kiss you, your hand springs up, getting a good grip on his chin. “No kissing,” you hiss, eyes narrowed.

Lip has his long fingers inside you, reaching for your G-spot for the past twenty minutes, teasing you meanly. Every time he brushes the spongy bit of flesh, you tense, feeling like you might come at that moment. Or pee yourself; the sensations are so similar yet different that you can hardly tell them apart. But Lip withdraws his fingers, leaving you empty and wanting. Because Lip promised he would fuck you so good that you will never want anyone else. His words, not yours.

“If you want to occupy my mouth, then let me blow you,” you say crudely, knowing it won’t shock someone like Lip Gallagher.

“This is about you,” he reminds you seriously, then smirks.

It’s always like that with Lip—an easy banter, joking and silliness until it turns to desperation and passion and need. You never catch the exact moment of the transition.

Lip takes his sticky fingers out and pushes your top up, revealing your belly and bra.

“Did he take the time to touch you like this? To touch your tits?” Fuck. You arch into his mouth as soon as Lip pulls your snug sports bra above your breasts, freeing them. He knows how sensitive they are, how crazy you get when he pays attention to them.

You moan in approval as he starts licking the soft flesh, pulling on one of your nipples with those wet fingers. Wet from you.

“If—if this is about me—” you get out, voice breathy and hoarse, “—would you please fuck me already?”

Lip keeps massaging your tits, kissing and biting all over them, and grinds his groin against yours. He’s still wearing his jeans and the denim drags roughly against your naked center. You’re not very far away from begging.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Lip taunts you from somewhere between your knees, obviously needing to dominate the moment. You must be louder than you thought. Usually, with Lip, you try to stay pretty quiet. The grip you have on his hair tightens minutely, and Lip groans.

It’s not often that you fuck missionary—your aversion, not his. The problem—the good problem—with Lip is that his dick is the perfect shape for your vagina, or something, and when you have sex face to face, laying down, the head of his cock hits perfectly the right places within you. So usually, when you don’t want to come in the first three minutes, you have to really concentrate.

He doesn’t let you have your way tonight. “I wanna see you.”

You try to wriggle from underneath him, but Lip holds you fast. “Lip,” you grunt, pouting.

“I wanna see your face when you come. When I make you come.”

You blush, hard. You’re not surprised to hear Lip’s dirty talk. You’re surprised that it affects you this much. Maybe there's more at stake here than just another night of physical connection.

“I’ll make it so good,” he babbles while putting a condom on.

And he does. Makes it so, so good.

[storeecbrcod]

This is 100% self indulgent and not like what I usually write but 🤷 deal mfs

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x F!reader

I feel like, despite how hot headed he is, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish would be the best at holding space for you and encouraging you to do things outside your comfort zone most would deem ‘normal’.

Ever since you started drinking at the very proper age of 18, you have hated drinking past a buzz. Obviously, as a kid, you make mistakes; you drink an alcohol that doesn’t agree with you, or you lose track, it happens. But even when you are much more intoxicated than you want to be, you can’t shake the anxiety of coming across as drunk. It’s been drilled into you that you’re more mature, that you’re more capable at taking care of yourself. Always the proper one, always the guardian amongst friends.

So when you come across as reluctant to drink with John, always offering to be the designated driver during outings or only having a single drink and denying any more, he’s confused. He’s always seen you act as the mature one, but also you could be so silly and fun. Drinking was all about fun, why did you hate it so much?

The conversation starts as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you were getting ready for a date. He pressed soft kisses across your shoulder blades, it makes you chuckle softly, looking at him through the mirror as you shut your lipstick.

“Bon,” he started, tone light and soft as his chin rested on your shoulder, stubble scratching at your bare skin there. “Why’s it you dinnae drink?”

Your brow furrows, looking down to your makeup bag and fishing out an eyebrow pencil, uncapping it and leaning towards the mirror of the bathroom slightly, starting to apply it. “What do you mean? I do drink,” you reply, continuing to stare yourself in the mirror as you map out precise lines. “We have a drink together nearly every weekend, love.”

He huffed, squeezing his arms into your midsection briefly. “I ken, but I’ve never seen ye let loose,” he pushed. “You drink enough to seem relaxed, but I feel as ye boyfriend, I deserve to see you piss drunk at least once.”

He punctuated his words with a lopsided grin, meeting your eyes through the mirror. “Level the playin’ field for the times ye’ve picked me up ten sheets to the bleedin’ wind.”

You chuckle, but it sounds forced to his ears and your own. Shame sat in a lump in your throat, twisted with anxiety. He can sense it, the way you instinctively lick your lips even as you try to not disturb your makeup, the way your eyes avoid his. He let you finish your other eyebrow before placing a hand over your own, gently making you put down your makeup. He spun you around with his hands on your waist, letting you lean against the counter behind you, looking up to him.

“You never let go,” he said again, softer this time. He laced his fingers with yours, eyes tracing where you two met for a moment before looking up to your eyes. His own were molten with the desire to understand, the need to comfort and care. “Why is that?”

You stayed silent for a few moments, still avoiding his eyes. You traced patterns in his plain shirt, watching his fingers scrape gently over your skin, feeling his warmth at his proximity. It didn’t feel suffocating as it may have with anyone else; he was gentle, not demanding. Most people you confide in about your anxiety around drinking tell you to grow up, completely ignoring the double standard of people desiring you to get blind but not be out of hand. They want the entertainment, at the expense of your embarrassment.

“Bonnie,” John cooed to you, calling your eyes back to his. He hooked a finger under your chin, trying not to disturb your setting makeup. “I’m not goin’ tae tease ya, right?”

You huff a laugh, brushing him off and looking away, making him drop his hand to your waist once more. You hesitate again, but look back to him with your lips pursed. “I hate the next day,” you say simply.

“Everyone does,” he replied with a chuckle, but it was soft. “Hangovers aren’t fun for anyone, baby.”

You chuckle with him, hitting his shoulder weakly in retaliation. “Not what I meant, Tav, and you know it,” you admonish, affection clear in your voice. You sigh, easing up again, hesitating.

“I don’t like being out of control,” you admit, shrugging and looking up to him. Instinctively, your arms cross, almost hugging yourself. His hands rub your arms up and down, comforting. “It’s not nice for a young girl to be incoherent and stumbling, yeah? Not safe, either.”

John scoffed, brow furrowing in genuine yet gentle confusion. “Ye’ve got me, bonnie,” he replied, shaking his head in mild disbelief. “And what’s it matter what other people think? You’re having fun, no?”

You pout at him dramatically, making him chuckle again. “Naw, don’t you start poutin’,” he added, poking your side and making you flinch with a yelp of protest. “I mean it. Chances are, everyone else isn’t gonna remember their own names let alone you, hun. And lord knows all I’m gonna remember is how fuckin’ sexy you are. I’ll be just as drunk as you, my love.”

You huff, pursing your lips, leaning back against the counter more. Just the thought of being anywhere near drunk around others, having seen your own fair share of other drunk people and, worse, trying to take care of them, makes you want to gag.

“It’s not… classy,” you grumble.

“Neither is being the only sober one in a club,” he replied with an eyebrow raised, making you groan. “Clubbing is about getting a bit messy, love, I dinnae ken why getting messy with everyone else is so bad. Tell me.”

“Because I’m not… messy.”

“Do they know that?”

You pause, knowing he’s got you pushed into a bit of a corner. You know rationally that nobody cares, that at the worst people pity the messier of the rest, but something about it makes your skin crawl. John can sense it, pulling you towards him for a brief hug, your chin on his shoulder.

“You’re so proper,” he muttered, the grin clear in his voice. “Wha’ the hell do you see in me? I’m no’ exactly proper, bon.”

“I like that you’re easy going,” you reply, letting him just hold you for a moment. You felt a bit… childish, for being like this. Like this fear wasn’t really founded, a phobia like the nightmares kids get scared of. Monsters under the bed and figures chasing them down the hall. A little silly, something that dissipates with age, but still scares you.

“Then let me show you how to be easy goin’,” he said quietly, letting the offer hang. He snickered after a few moments. “It gets easier the more drinks ye have, I promise.”

You laugh with him, sniffling a bit. He was always so warm, so gentle when he needed to be. He never approached your problems with the idea that it was childish, even if you thought they were. Problems were problems, no matter how big or small, insignificant or important.

“What about we start here?” He offered quietly, pulling back to look you in the eye. “We ‘ave tha’ bottle of whiskey we could put a dent in, then we can grab a taxi or somethin’. Get you properly loosened up, til it’s easier to push through.”

You roll your eyes, snickering a bit. “This feels coercive,” you say sarcastically, making him grin.

“I never claimed to be a saint, swee’heart”

You give a moment of pause, looking up at him through your lashes. You couldn’t help the small smile pulling at your lips, for once the idea of being messy seeming like a good one if it meant you and John could spill onto each other. It felt a bit romantic and intimate, if you wanted to get poetic about it.

“Ok,” you say quietly. His face lit up, making you melt as he beamed at you, eyes twinkling with pleasure simply at you giving in to his gentle coaxing. “But, I won’t promise to going out. Don’t know if I’ll even want to.”

“Fine by me, bonnie,” he replied, his hands trailing down to your ass and grabbing a fistful of it cheekily, a glint in his eye. “Either way, I’ll be barkin’ up your tree all night.”

You huff in mock irritation, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. He smiles against your lips, sending a thrill of warmth down your spine, letting it break down the anxiety.

“Careful, MacTavish. I’m getting all pretty for you.”

“Then finish your face,” he all but purred, gently turning you back around as you giggled, yelping again as he pinned you against the counter with his hips, making you laugh more. He leaned into your ear, looking to your eyes through the mirror heatedly and forcing you to bite your lip to suppress another noise. “And I’ll get the drinks pourin’ for your pretty little arse.”

A/N: once again, self indulgent in light of getting pretty fucked up and 100% regretting it even though no one got hurt or upset on the night ✌️ RIP my pride and ego ig

[cyberrose2001]

As ur request are still open:

Have you ever thought of Drunk tfp Ratchet👁👁

I had this idea a minute ago while I am texting this phrase right here so eh let me continue, I thought it would be also a good idea to request this especially for you! But idk for what, maybe you could take ur time on choosing any type of way to describe in your eyes how he would be drunk, i think as an x reader or headcanon would be nice I just want to see your thoughts in it, sfw or nsfw

Ps: I'm kinda of a newbie on the fanfic community so uhm that's why I texted all of that-

TFP Ratchet Drunk Headcanons

You know me too well, Anon.... i certainly have.

I would write a scenario but I'm in the middle of five nightshifts so this will be all for now, thank you for requesting! <3

Reader is human fem.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, SFW and NSFW headcanons.

SFW

It takes quite a lot of high-grade energon just for Ratchet to feel a slight buzz. He would have to consume well over ten cubes of straight high-grade to get him into a state of drunkness, and by that point, he's already combing through the drawers of the med bay, showing anyone within reach of him his different tools and over-explaining what they're used for.

He'll slur his words while he waves around a hammer and then moves on to a very sharp scalpel, much to your horror.

"Y/n, did yoooou know that I have had this particular scalpel for... ten thousand vorns? HA! Still as sharp as ever."

"Honey, please don't play with sharp objects while drunk."

He can be very expressive while drunk, picking you up to sloppily pepper your face with kisses, telling you how much he loves you and how grateful he is to have you as his spark mate.

"Cybertron can shove a stick up its aft. I am never leaving Earth. I wanna stay here with yoooou." 

Akin to a child, it will take a lot of convincing to get Ratchet into berth, eventually getting Bulkhead to guide him to bed with you trailing behind.

Ratchet will want you to stay with him as he eventually falls into a self-deprecating mess, drunkenly voicing how he wishes he could be more useful to the team instead of waiting on the sidelines.

Lots of reassurance combined with helm cuddles and kisses.

NFSW

As stated above, Ratchet gets very touchy-feely while drunk.

After you had convinced him to put down the surgical tools, he'll bend down with a sly smirk on his faceplates.

"Perhaps I could show you my other... sharp tool... heh."

Once you're both finally in berth, he'll trail a servo across your ass and squeeze it. His helm would be buried deep in your neck, inhaling your intoxicating smell as he does so, and you can smell the high grade on his breath as he breathes into your skin.

And as much as you'd love to sleep, his touches kindle a fire in your stomach, a burning fire that only your mech could extinguish.

He would be too intoxicated to frag you into the berth, instead picking you up and placing you on his intake after he had stripped you bare of your clothes.

He'll sloppily kiss and suck at your folds before burying his glossa deep inside you, moaning into your pussy, causing vibrations that send your mind for a spin.

Ratchet will continue to eat you out as you brace your arms against his helm, a servo on your thigh and one fondling one of your breasts.

You'll become an overstimulated mess by the time Ratchet slowly drags his glossa against your walls and out of your now-saturated pussy, licking his dermas in satisfaction.

After cleaning you up with his glossa, Ratchet will spoon your bare body for the rest of the night, a digit tracing circles on your thigh to lull himself to sleep.

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 18

The following morning, Loki got up early as he’d barely slept for worry over Claire. Would this be the end before it had even begun? Would she even want to continue working with him? So many questions kept running through his mind.

He’d just finished with breakfast when the doorbell rang. He frowned and rushed through to see who it was, he wasn't expecting anyone. As he reached the door though, he could smell her scent coming through.

A rush of excitement flooded through him as he quickly opened the door. ‘Claire!’

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to see her so soon. ‘Come in!’ He’d barely stepped to the side to let her in when she darted straight inside.

‘Ok, so… how many vampires are there in the city? Can you fly? How do you manage to go out in sunlight? Does garlic not affect you? Who else is a vampire?’ Claire rambled out quickly.

‘Woah, woah, woah.’ Loki chuckled and gently gripped her upper arms so he could look directly into her eyes. ‘You’re not scared?’ Though he could see no fear in her eyes and couldn’t smell any fear either. Her heart was beating a little faster than usual, but that was in excitement.

‘No? Why would I be? You’re still Loki. You’ve saved me numerous times. Plus, I’d have thought that if you were going to hurt me, you’d have done it by now.’

Loki laughed in pure relief as he ran a hand down his face. ‘I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I’m so relieved that you’re not scared of me.’ Loki said sincerely as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

‘I was scared last night of Jessica… and I think the alcohol didn’t help. I wasn’t scared of you but I just couldn’t get my head around it all. I more or less passed out when I got home last night, then I’ve been awake for hours with just so many questions. It’s so exciting. Vampires are real! You’re a vampire!’ She grinned widely and was almost bobbing up and down excitedly.

‘I’ve never seen someone so excited to discover vampires are real.’ Loki chuckled as cupped her face in both of his hands.

‘I can’t believe I’m excited about my boyfriend being a vampire.’ Claire laughed sheepishly.

Loki grinned, he loved her excitement about it all, and it was making him excited too. Knowing now he didn’t have to hide who he was, he could be honest with her and maybe wouldn’t have to restrain himself quite as much anymore…

He kept a hold of her face as he leaned down, she went up on her tiptoes to meet him as their lips touched. Claire’s heart beat faster as it felt like her lips were tingling as they touched, it was slow at first, but didn’t take long to heat up as their tongues came into the mix.

Loki’s head was swimming as he tasted her, his tongue slowly moved against hers. He felt her tongue run along his upper teeth, he couldn’t help but laugh.

Pulling back ever so slightly so he could talk. ‘Are you looking for my fangs?’

Claire’s eyes widened a bit and her cheeks turned red as she leaned back more and licked her lips. ‘Uh… maybe… Just looking for proof…’ She shrugged.

Loki laughed and brushed his thumb over her lower lip. ‘Are you sure you want to see?’

She nodded eagerly.

‘Well, if that’s what the lady wants.’ Loki grinned widely and his pearly white fangs slowly emerged for her.

Claire’s eyes widened in awe, she froze for a moment, just staring at them. Then she stepped in closer and reached her hand up. ‘Can I touch them?’

Loki nodded, he was so amused with how she was taking this now.

Claire slowly reached up and ran her fingers along the tips of his fangs, she wasn’t sure why she was so surprised to find they were super sharp. Sharper even than any of the knives in her kitchen, that was for sure.

‘So do you have special vampire dentists or what?’ She asked, half teasing yet half serious.

‘As they tend to be retracted almost all of the time, they never need tending to.’ Loki answered.

‘Ugh, I have so many questions.’ Claire groaned and put her hands over her face.

Loki smiled softly as his fangs retracted, he gently took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. ‘I will answer any and all questions you have. Let me make you a coffee and let’s get comfortable.’

Claire nodded in agreement.

They went to the kitchen first so Loki could make them both coffee. Bat had just finished eating her breakfast, she chirped happily when she saw Claire, instantly trotting over to rub around her legs.

‘Hey, Bat!’ Claire bent over to scoop up the little furball. ‘How is it living with a vampire, huh?’ She laughed.

‘No different to living with a human I imagine, as long as she is fed and gets cuddles, I don’t think she cares what she is living with.’ Loki chuckled.

‘Is Bat some sort of vampire cat? It’s just she seems much more intelligent than any other cat I’ve met, like she’s in tune with people’s emotions.’ Clarie asked seriously.

‘I often wonder that myself, but as far as I’m aware, she’s an ordinary cat. Just a very special one at that.’ Loki smiled fondly as he reached over to scratch Bat under the chin before continuing with their coffee. ‘I guess because vampires are more in tune with nature since we have a feral and instinctive side to us, perhaps she has just been able to communicate better over the years with me and it’s helped the bond.’ He shrugged.

‘Yeah, that would make sense.’ Claire nodded.

‘You can fire away, darling. I can sense that brain of yours is just exploding with questions.’ Loki grinned.

Claire opened her mouth, about to speak, when Loki swiftly put his finger up. ‘I just have one request, one question at a time.’ He said knowingly.

‘Fair enough.’ Claire laughed. ‘So… are there a lot of vampires in Demsdale? You said that Chris and your dad are vampires. Was your mother one?’

‘That’s two questions.’ Loki teased. Claire retaliated by sticking her tongue out at him, making him laugh. ‘There is a high population of vampires in Demsdale, yes. Apparently, it’s about sixty perfect vampires now. Though the highest vampire population is in Redbridge, it’s eighty five percent. At our school, you might be surprised to know that seventy percent of our students are vampires.’

‘Shit, really? That’s a lot!’

Loki chuckled. ‘It is indeed. No, my mother wasn’t a vampire. Dad fell in love with her a long time ago.’

‘So, were you born a vampire?’ Claire asked.

‘No, I was bitten fifteen years ago.’ Loki said with a clenched jaw as he handed her a coffee.

‘By who? Did you want to be a vampire?’ They made their way through to the living room.

‘I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind being one now, but I didn’t want to become one. I knew of them, of course. My parents didn’t hide the fact that dad and Chris were vampires... It was Chris that bit me, he turned me when I was thirty-one. Against my wishes. It was the last thing on earth I wanted, and he did it anyway.’ Loki growled.

Claire’s eyes widened. Now it made sense why Loki hated him so much. She could understand, being changed like that against his wishes would be horrible.

‘Why did he do that? That’s awful.’ She said as they sat down together on the sofa, Bat jumped up and curled up next to Claire.

‘Because he’s a dick, that’s all there is to it.’ Loki huffed.

‘So… I’m a little confused. You were turned at thirty-one, and you’re still that age. Vampires don’t age, do they? What about the students though?’ Claire frowned.

‘Ah, so that’s where it gets a little confusing. Vampires that were turned, remain the same age more or less. We do age, but it’s incredibly slowly. We’re talking over thousands of years before even aging a few years. However, those that are born as vampires, do age. Differently to humans though. For the first twenty years, they age more or less the same as humans. Then the aging process drastically slows down, slower and slower the older they get. The average vampire will probably look around forty and remain the same.’

Claire pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment. ‘Ok… So, you were turned. What about Chris and Lucius?’

Loki paused a moment. ‘They’re known as the originals. My dad and Chris are two of five that were the first ever vampires.’

‘What, seriously?’ Claire’s eyes were wide as saucers.

Loki nodded. ‘Let me start from the beginning…

A long, long time ago… There were five men who were in the woods felling trees to build houses, one of them was my dad. Another was Chris, his son. The last three were friends of my dad, they’d known each other for years.

It was the middle of the afternoon, but all of a sudden it got dark and stormy. The five of them didn’t even have the chance to get packed up before they were surrounded by three witches. Witches were of the norm back then, known for causing mischief, so the men weren’t exactly too worried. The witches told them they were trespassing, stealing their property. The men ignored them and carried on packing up, but the witches didn’t like to be ignored.

So, they cast a spell trapping the five in a swirling tornado. The men all began shouting expletives at the witches, instead of trying to plead for their lives or apologise. The witches cursed them all into blood sucking monsters, hoping to cause fear amongst the humans. More for fun than anything else.

No, before you ask, it didn’t happen in Redbridge.’ Loki chuckled. ‘That’s how vampires began. Then of course as they mated with humans, their blood and DNA was passed down through the generations. Some being born as vampires, others not. And of course, they turned some too, so vampires began to spread throughout the world to what it is now. But the original five are incredibly strong vampires, more so than the average vampire like myself.

Chris and my dad let the power get to their heads. They went on a rampage of killing humans, and even began hurting their own kind if any vampire didn’t bend to their will and agree with their views. Though dad began to soften when he met my mum and fell in love. Chris was furious, couldn’t understand why he was turning so soft for a human.

Chris went on his own rampage, murdering entire villages of humans. The other original three tried to stop him, they didn’t want humans to turn on vampires, which was beginning to happen because of Chris’ murder spree. Though he ended up killing those three…

Dad then tried to stop him once he realised he’d gone way too far, they ended up in a huge fight. Eventually, Chris gave up, and while he did stop with the senseless murder spree, he has always been darker. He doesn’t see humans as equals, thinks they should be wiped out. That vampires are the new better version of evolution.’

Claire took a moment to process it all. ‘Well, that’s certainly different from what the history books say about vampires.’ She laughed.

‘It is indeed.’ Loki nodded. ‘Though vampires are the reason the river turns red once a year. There’s something known as the yearly hunt, it’s a tradition between vampires that still believe in feeding off humans. Every year, Chris runs it, he gets younger vampires who’ve come of age to take part, as well as any other vampire that wants to. They gather as much humans as they can and let them loose in a large fenced in area in the woods, then the vampires begin their hunt.

Humans used to be kidnapped for it, now there are some that volunteer, if they are close to end of life anyway… Though I still find it wrong. Chris still kidnaps some humans for it too, so there’s more thrill to it. The river turning red is the result of the bodies being dumped upstream…’

‘Holy shit. That’s the fenced in area that we went in?’ Claire asked.

Loki nodded.

‘Jesus.’ Claire ran a hand down her face. ‘Having a vampire boyfriend isn’t all exciting then. There’s quite a dark side to vampires here.’ She gulped.

‘I’m afraid so.’ Loki nodded. ‘We are monsters at the end of the day, no matter how many of us try and be better.’

‘You’re not a monster.’ Claire said firmly as she put a hand on his thigh.

Loki put his on top of hers, he brought her hand up so he could kiss her knuckles. ‘I’m glad you think that way.’

‘Stevie was a vampire, it wasn’t drugs, was it?’ Claire asked.

‘There are vampire hunters out there that we need to watch out for. It seems that Stevie and Kirsten were hunting in the wrong place at the wrong time.’ Loki said sadly. ‘They’d taken part in the traditional hunt, gotten a taste for it and couldn’t help themselves.’

‘Oh boy. I don’t know about you, but I need to Irish up this coffee. I’ve barely asked any questions yet, I have a feeling there’s a lot more to find out.’ Claire hopped up to her feet and headed to the bar at the back to pour some whiskey into her coffee.

Loki laughed and followed her to do the same.

‘I do have a question that I really need to know the answer to… When you said about being scared of hurting me if we got more intimate. I assumed you meant because you were into some kinky stuff or rough sex or something… but I’m guessing it’s because of your natural instincts to feed, isn’t it?’ Claire asked as she poured whiskey into his cup as he stood behind her.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up on end as Loki brushed her hair back out of the way, his fingers lightly grazed along her neck, tingling. He chuckled against her ear before kissing just below it, making her knees go a little weak.

‘Bit of both, darling.’ He purred into her ear.

She slowly turned around, her breathing hitched from the closeness as she craned her neck to look at him. He gently stroked her cheek and then gripped her chin.

‘Is uhm… is both urges kind of the same? Like if we have sex, will you want to feed?’ She asked curiously.

‘The urge for both is very strong, yes. Over time, it should get easier to control the feeding side. I don’t want to hurt you, Claire. I want to be able to make love to you without wanting to bite you… I just need time to be able to control that side of me.’ He whispered.

‘What if… what if you just… bite me? Get it out of your system? I don’t mind if you want to feed off me…’ Claire said quietly, her breathing quickened at the thought.

‘Claire.’ Loki growled in warning. ‘I don’t feed off humans.’

‘I know… but it’s not exactly feeding to live as such. Just… for the pleasure? You said you can give endorphins, so it could be… nice for me too?’ She fluttered her eyelashes up at him as she put her hands on his chest.

Loki ran a hand through his hair as he glared at her. ‘This is a dangerous game.’

‘I know you won’t hurt me, Loki. If it helps you, too… I could be your own private blood bank.’ She shrugged and bit her lower lip.

Loki chuckled at that. He was struggling not to just pounce on her. He could smell her slight arousal in the air just from speaking about it.

‘You’re aroused at the thought of me biting you, aren’t you?’ He raised an eyebrow at her and slid his hand down to just gently cradle against her neck, he could feel her pulse point under his fingers. So tempting…

Claire nodded in response.

Loki thought hard, he knew that he wouldn’t kill her, or turn her. If he did give her the endorphin release, it would be pleasurable enough for her, especially if he included it with sexy time… Though the moral side of it was bugging him.

‘I won’t force you to if you don’t want to.’ Claire said, she could see he was having a battle internally with himself over it. ‘You have my permission to feed off me though, especially if it helps us able to be intimate.’ She whispered.

Loki smiled and cupped her face, he pressed his forehead against hers. ‘I want to… you have no idea how badly I want to. I just… I’m scared of hurting and scaring you.’

‘You won’t hurt or scare me.’ Claire assured him.

When Loki leaned back slightly, Claire saw his eyes were a bit darker than usual and his breathing was deeper. She also could feel his bulge pressing against her stomach. This was more his mind that was hesitant, his body was all for it.

‘You have permission to slap me, if I get too carried away and don’t stop if you tell me to. Ok?’ Loki said firmly.

Claire nodded enthusiastically. Her heartbeat quickened in excitement. This was going to happen. Finally, they were going to go all the way.

Loki couldn’t hold himself back any longer, her scent was too intoxicating and his urges was just taking over. He scooped her up into his arms, making her squeak in excitement as Loki easily carried her out of the living room towards the stairs.

‘I guess this also explains why you’re so strong.’ Claire giggled as he carried her upstairs.

[nickybloodhead]

********************* James x Dave ********************

They had both gotten carried away with alcohol that night and Dave decided he wanted to tease the shy and quiet James a little. He wants to believe that what he was doing was a game, but deep down he had wanted this ever since he saw those pretty blue eyes.

“Am I doing it right like this?” James murmured uncertainly as his hand slowly moved up and down Dave's cock, Dave looked at him with a slightly rapt smile as he saw how beautiful James looked between his legs, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed with lust. The blond was a sight to behold, always so obedient to please for the sake of having friends.

“You're doing well, Het…. But uh, spit a little on your hand and you'll make it feel perfect” Dave's voice was hoarse, he was so hard and he knew he would cum soon, hopefully, it would stain those cheeks with acne. James was still unsure, he doesn't remember anyone mentioning that this is what friends do but Dave is older, so he supposes he knows more about the world than he does, he gave in to Dave's wishes and awkwardly let the drool stain his hand to retake his partner's throbbing length.

The redhead threw his head back and let out a big sigh of satisfaction, smiled, lost in pleasure and made his hips thrust gently into James' hand.

James was mesmerized watching his friend, he looked beautiful when he was relaxed, which was rare as Dave seemed to always be on guard. He moved his hand a little faster, squeezing a little and letting his thumb run over the slit of the swollen head, that drew a particularly high pitched moan from Dave who bit those plump lips of his to be silent.

“Just a little more… Shit, I'm too close” Dave gasped for air as James moved his hand over him, it was almost too much the sensations the blond was producing in him. He wanted to grab him by the hair and kiss him senseless, take his time listening to him moan as he had his way with James, he wanted to do so many dirty things, but he knew he had to be careful if he was going to get his way. James was an innocent boy in a way, out of an extremely religious home, Dave had to take things slowly or else he would scare him off and he didn't want that, not with him.

Dave was snapped out of his thoughts as he felt something wet on his cock, he suddenly opened his eyes and swore he almost died on the spot, James had his tongue out and had given his cock head a little lick.

“Did you like that?” James' question was full of innocence, fearing that maybe this had upset Dave, who was speechless at the younger man's boldness, hell, all he wanted was to fuck his mouth right here and now.

“Yeah, it was awesome but, we'll save it for later, for now, make sure to make me cum just with your hand” James nodded embarrassedly, bit his lip, and continued to stroke Dave's length. He didn't know why he had this new urge to taste the redhead's cock, shit, he didn't even think this was right, even though his erection was at odds.

Dave was about to cum, he could feel his balls tightening and his abdomen twitching with small spasms of pleasure. He wasn't even struggling to hold back his moans anymore, but he would blame that on alcohol, he gasped for air and just as he felt that tingle in his spine, James decided to leave a tentative kiss on his inner thigh.

He lost it completely, and with a grating squeal, he gushed down James' face. He had to close his eyes to compose himself because he swear he fainted for a moment, that had been intense, much better than with any woman.

"Man, c'mon!" James cleaned up the mess with an expression of feigned disgust, there was no way he could admit how much he had enjoyed feeling Dave's cum on his face, nor would he admit that it made him cream his pants as well.

Dave sneered, leaned over a little, and held James' chin to look at him still with his release staining his lips and cheeks. He really wanted to kiss him, but he restrained himself and again putting on a façade of confidence, he smiled.

"Hetfield, you're an expert jerk. I bet you touch yourself every chance you get, little pervert." James just rolled his eyes and slapped Dave's leg.

"Shut up"

We are so back people!

[cosmicbash]

I saw this too late :’( but aren’t Em’s boobs in those pics just MWAH? Cant you imagine a very enthusiastic Kelly trying to convince Marshall to get a nipple piercing and mister grumpy grandpa Mathers just getting absolutely appalled and horrified by that request. Then maybe Colson finds him looking up online sex shops for nipple clamps.

(((I just found this sitting unposted in my drafts????? and its good?? so why didnt i ever hit post??))

Em's boobs just looked so squeezable 😩😩

I envy that guy who copped a feel after Em teased him over their neverending handshake.

If only that could be ME

Also you are NEVER TOO LATE to say ANYTHING about Ems tits in an ask. That IMMEDIATELY revives my artistic spirit. I need those tits like water bby and I know kells would too.

Also nipple piercing em is 😏🥴🥴

So. Ahem

TittyTitTittyTitTittyTitTransitionTit

They've been laying in Colson's bed bickering over it for at least a half hour. Their once content not!snuggling and casual body exploration falling apart completely in favor of an argument.

"Come on, just one little hoop-"

"Ha!"

"It doesn't even hurt that bad I swear babe-"

Marshall's next snort sounds almost gutteral with how hard he holds back another mocking fit of laughter. "Doesn't even hurt- yeah, cuz a literal needle jabbing through one of the most sensitive spots on my body to rip flesh out and make a hole is like playing patty cake-"

"Oh come on, when you word it all fucking extra like that of course it'll sound bad- look-" Colson knew feeling offended was a little stupid but he has never let being stupid stop him before. "If anyone between the two of us has a more accurate pain scale for piercings do you really think its the one that has a single set of pierced ears? Hm? Or maybe the dude with like a dozen-"

This time Marshall did laugh openly at him, tone shifting over to a properly annoyed one.

"Really? Your pain scale is super fucking skewed Colson! How many times this year did you smash literal bottles and shit over your head? Divebomb off a stage to bust your ribs? Sleep through nasty tattoo spots? Don't you dare try and act like I'm being a pussy over nothing."

It's out of Colson's mouth before he can stop himself. His childish selfish wants completely winning out in a "Pftt, well you totally are."

Regret wells up just as fast in him as the anger does in Marshall's eyes. His semi comfortable spot sat over the other man's lap rapidly upseated in a flurry of fast movement. "Fuck you."

"Fuck. Em, come on-" Colson knows when he's stuffed his foot in his mouth and this is definitely one of the worser times. He should have been more mindful of the tension already present, or of his partners ever denied sensitivity to such subject. But the match is lit under Marshall's fire now.

"Some of us don't have a pile of pills or gallons of alcohol to hide behind everytime we go out and fuck our body up some more you know-"

And there it is. The always accurate defensive jab off Marshall's sharp tongue.

It hurts more this time than Colson expects it to. Maybe because he knows he deserves it for pressing and trying to guilt trip the other rapper. And maybe because he knows by now he really should be getting his shit together so the other man doesn't have such an easy diss to throw his way.

To their credit though, he can see a flash of regret pass over Marshall's face too as soon as it comes out.

Not that it stops the brunette from getting dressed any further, or slows his obvious escape.

"I'm--" sorry. Colson can almost hear it. See the word curl and shape on Marshall's lips, but the anxiety further up in blue eyes prevents it. They both know it wont allow it to come out. So another exasperated noise does instead, hands flying up to rake through the rare hatless head before Marshall is moving again. Sweats yanked up and feet thankfully left bare.

"It's my fucking nipple you asshole."

And then he's gone. Out of Colson's room without another outburst. Off to lick his wounds or more so, allow Colson to lick his own.

A few months ago the blonde would have chased after, continued the shouting until it teetered on that scary ledge of physical, their fingers grabbing too tight at eachothers skin, fists shaking, anything to keep Marshall from leaving.

But now? He's learned enough to take note of the shoes in the corner of his room, the discarded kangol, wallet and keys neatly tucked away in the spare nightstand, and so many other little anchors locking Marshall down around the room. It's just space. Space needed to run and cool off somewhere else in the house, prevent a bigger fight. A smart skill Colson should really use more himself.

So he rolls himself over into the warm emptied spot on the bed and waits. Ego wounded and heart a little sore by his own fault.

It only takes an hour for Marshall to come back and even less time than that for Colson to file his horny nipple ring tugging dreams far far away in his mind. An argument decidely NOT for another day or at all if he knows whats best for them.

Keeping Marshall back curled in his bed is obviously whats best. It keeps that gnawing need to drink his sorrows away, and makes the world's edges feel less sharp.

He wants to apologize as soon as he hears the click of the bedroom door, but he manages to bite it back until sock padded feet are thumping softly across his carpet beneath the bed. A rough sounding "Sorry-" leaving his tongue before he even sees Marshall walk into his line of vision. It's the one thing he has on the other man, his ability to actually say the word first, without painful prodding. And he's not going to let go of it no matter how petty he wants to be.

"Don't." The older man is sighing, but in a soft way. It drags his eyes away from the wall finally. The relief he feels just seeing Marshall back standing there in his room quickly replaced by a blip of confusion.

He's got stuff clutched to his chest, a bottle of peroxide, wipes, some plastic packaging. And up further Colson can see how embarrassment is burning his cheeks pink above his dark beard. His expression twisted into one of discomfort.

"Well?"

"Well?" Colson feels even more confused. Marshall is acting like the little bottle in his hand might as well be a bouquet of apology roses and he can't for the life of him figure out why.

"You gonna fucking pierce me or not?" He's chewing the insides of his cheeks. Usually Colson finds this cute but his ears are still ringing from the question. Excitement racing through his veins like gasoline lit by a match.

It's not surprise he practically jumps off the bed. "For real?? For real, for real??" He has to be dreaming, he must've slipped right off into a depression nap at some point while Marshall was gone because there's no way the other man can be serious.

But he is. Hands discarding the clutter of alcohol wipes, peroxide, and clean packaged piercers needles on the bed like it's nothing. "If you're telling me you sat here running your mouth and can't put your money to it now then I'm seriously gonna smack you this time-" Marshall's huffing at him, hands a little shakey while he wrestles off his shirt. "I had to bullshit to your bassist that you were having a manic episode and wanted a new piercing to get all this shit so, don't think you're getting off scott free either. I'm not having those dudes speculate where I let you pierce me if they see you come down without a new one-"

"Oh my god-" Colson still can't grasp reality. He's never won an argument this hard against Em before. Usually his crazy ideas are just whacked back down with a bat. He almost feels like he should cry.

Marshall looks like he wants to as well, but for a different reason. His anxiety visible in the twitchy movements of his hands and the squint of his face. "Please don't tell me you toked your brains out while I was gone-"

"No!" That jerks Colson back to full functionality. His hands moving to grab at the items and heart racing like a horse in his chest. "I-- I just needed a minute to- fuck- to fuckin process that-- you're serious? You're really serious about doing this?"

"Getting less by the second."

God he wants to kiss him. And shit, he does, hand coming up to drag the older rapper down by his neck and seal their mouths together in a firm smooch. Grin breaking their lips apart when he just can't hold back his giggles anymore. "Holy shit, I'm so fucking excited-"

"Shut up." He can feel just how hard Marshall's own heart is galloping when he lets his hand drag down the man's chest after they part. Palm pausing over the hard punch against skin like a magnet. He's certain that's not excitement, which makes it even hotter.

The dudes terrified but still willing to go through with this to please him.

He's gonna suck his dick so hard after they're done. Hell, he'll shove him down on the bed and ride him until sunset. This is a bazillion times better than apology roses.

"You do, uh, know what you're doing right?"

Colson does NOT. But he grins and nods his head anyway. He knows how to give someone a piercing yeah, he's done tons of his own and other peoples. Through the nipple though? That's gonna be a first, but his other hand is already tapping away super fast and discreetly on his phone while he pushes Marshall down to sit in his emptied space on the bed. "I got you baby-" He's gonna wikihow his way through this before anyone changes their mind.

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Fuck buddies VIII

Warning: swearing, bit of smut, alcohol

You’re torn. You want to comfort him, to tell him everything will be ok and that you forgive him but something stops you. You don’t want this self-destructive cycle to keep repeating over and over again. You just left an intelligent, attractive, funny man because of this man who constantly disappoints you, makes you feel bad about yourself and has no regard for anyone else’s feelings but his own. 

So why can’t I let him go?

You walk closer to Colson and he looks up at you, his face a mix of hopeful and fearful, and your heart sinks. As much as you want to be this hardass, cold woman who just tells him to fuck off and find someone else to fuck with, you know that’s not who you are. You won’t let him take that from you like he’s taken everything else. You sit down beside him, leaning your back against the wall and sigh deeply. You can smell the booze on him and it’s kind of suffocating but you ignore it.

“You’re not fucked up Kells,” you murmur and he raises his eyebrows at you, unconvinced. “I’m not saying you’re perfect but I guess I kind of get why you are the way you are.”

“Please enlighten me,” he slurs sarcastically and turns to stare at the wall in front of him.

“You’re just protecting yourself. You don’t want to be hurt so you lash out first. You don’t want anyone else to disappoint you or make you look like a fool so you just build up a wall and you fill the emptiness with booze, drugs and random women. You don’t want anyone to see the man behind the parties and concerts. You think if you put it all into your songs, people won’t really see the sensitive man inside, who just wants to be loved and needed.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while and your words just hang in the silence for what feels like forever. You knew what you were getting into when you started sleeping Colson. You had a pretty good understanding of the man he was before everything became so damn complicated between the two of you. You thought that his barriers meant there was no possible way you could fall for him. That it would be purely for pleasure and recreational purposes and nothing else. How fucking wrong you were about that.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Colson laughs without humour and shakes his head. 

You see a shift in his eyes and you brace yourself for his onslaught of insults and deflections. One thing he doesn’t like is being vulnerable or seen. “You don’t know fucking shit about me or who I am. You’re just some chick I fuck for fun every now and again. It doesn’t give you some window into my soul. Just because I fuck you, doesn’t make you special. I could have any fucking slut-”

“Oh shut the fuck up Colson!” you scream, hauling yourself to your feet angrily. “Give up with this macho bullshit. You can fuck or date anyone you want but no one will ever actually see what I see. I see who you are. You don’t have to hide it behind smokescreens and broken insults.”

You step over him and unlock your front door, leaving it slightly ajar behind you. You storm off to your bedroom and undress, throwing on a pair of sweats and removing your makeup. You’re trying to not let his words get to you but you’re just angry that you let him disappoint you again. You feel stupid for expecting that drunk or not, he may actually want to have an honest conversation with you. Take away all the shit of the last few weeks and just lay it all out. Even if you never talked about it again, at least you could hold onto that one conversation. For once in his life he’d actually let someone in but no, he was the same old fake Colson.

You come out of your bedroom and the apartment is quiet. You go back to your front door and it’s closed. You open it and the hallway is empty again. You figure he’s gone home to lick his wounds or find some party to have a meaningless hookup. You sit on your sofa and stare at the wall. You try so hard to not let that hurt but it does, no matter how hard you want to convince yourself it doesn’t. You rest your head back and look at the dark ceiling and remind yourself to breathe. You can only control your own actions. You can’t control anyone else’s, just how you react. You’re not going to keep letting him win. He doesn’t deserve to rule your emotions all the time.

“Where’s your date?” Colson’s voice in the darkness unleashes an involuntary yelp and you jump to your feet in shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?!” you scream at him, your heart almost slamming out of your chest.

“You left the door open so I figured you were inviting me in,” he takes a swig from the beer in his hand and leans against the doorframe of your kitchen.

“And you thought you stand in the kitchen and not move for a whole 20 minutes to just mess with me or something?” you lift your hands behind your head to try and get as much air into your lungs as possible.

“And you’re avoiding my question. Where’s Jacob?” he scrunches his nose slightly when he says his name and you can’t help but find the actions endearingly cute.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were here?” you skirt around his question again.

Colson rolls his eyes and pushes off the doorframe. He puts his beer on your coffee table, not breaking stride while he does it. He stands so close that you can feel his breath on your face and suddenly you can’t breathe for a whole different reason. He places his hands on either side of your face, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes bore into yours and that spark of vulnerability flickers through them again.

“Where is he and will he be interrupting my plans to fuck your brains out?” Colson asks, articulating each word slowly and softly. 

You feel a quiver in your stomach and a moistness between your legs that you can’t control. Then as if like the flip of a coin, a white, hot anger fills every fibre of your being. You shove him away and as if instinctively he steps towards you again and before you can stop yourself, your hand whips out and slaps him, hard, across the cheek. You step back, your hand snapping to cover your mouth in shock. He looks at you, an unreadable emotion on his face. You’re not scared but you’re not exactly looking forward to Colson’s reaction. You want to apologise but then you remembered what he said and the rage replaces the shock and regret.

“How fucking dare you,” you spit at him. “After everything that’s happened, not just tonight but how you…how you left yesterday, you think I’d have sex with you?” 

His mood swings are giving you whiplash and every muscle in your body is tense and exhausted at the same time. Your head hurts trying to decipher his emotions and what he wants, as well as trying to work out what you want and need at this point. From him, from yourself, from your friendships. Which suddenly reminds you of a crazy thought you had earlier.

“Did you plan this evening?” you ask him, studying his reaction closely.

“What the fuck are you talking about? And also, ow,” he snarls at you. He flexes his jaws and snatches his beer back up. He takes a big gulp, pretty much draining the bottle and slams it back down, causing you to flinch. 

“Did you make sure I was at dinner tonight so you could rub Carly in my face but it backfired because Jacob was there?” he snorts and turns to walk to the kitchen but you’re quicker than him in his drunk state. You move around the coffee table so you’re blocking him from the kitchen and you fold your arms over your chest. “You did, didn’t you? I bet it drove you crazy that I ruined your little game. You wanted to dangle her in front of me because you know she drives me crazy and you thought it would make me throw myself at you but I had a date.”

“You sound fucking ridiculous right now,” he smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes and his voice is rigid.

“You knew you fucked up sneaking out and instead of admitting that and apologising, you thought you’d trick me into sleeping with you again? It must have taken all your self control not to do something at dinner,” you laugh at how badly his night backfired on him and you can’t believe you actually convinced yourself he’s above petty shit.

Before you can tease him anymore, he’s pushing you against the wall, pressing his entire body against yours to hold you still. Your mouth goes dry and your lungs tighten. You try to thrash against him and curse him out but he puts his hand over your mouth and shoves his knee between your legs, pressing it against your pussy and you yelp into his hand.

“It took every fucking ounce of my strength to not reach across the table and rip his goddamn throat out every time he made you laugh, every time his kissed you or touched you,” his voice is so steady and his tone so assured, you don’t question anything he’s telling you. “Don’t for a second think it didn’t cross my mind.”

You stare at him and he drops his hand from your mouth, only to wrap his long fingers around your throat. He squeezes for a second, then releases the pressure but doesn’t drop his hand. You’re trying to process his words but you’re so turned on by the closeness of his body, his touch that you can’t think straight. You want him to say more. You want him to admit why Jacob bothered him so much if fucking you doesn’t ‘make you special’. 

Fucking pull yourself together woman! Make him tell you why! Your subconscious scolds you and you decide to actually listen to her for once.

“Why?” you breathe, staring at his face so intently he has to look away. He pushes away from the wall and you feel desperate for his touch again.

“Just–fuck. Can’t you just trust me? Please?” he begs you, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration.

“I just want to know why Colson. Why did you want to make me jealous, why did Jacob bother you so much? I just…” you look at him desperate for answers, just one answer at least, anything.

He doesn’t speak. The silence feels hopeless, never ending and deafening all at the same time. You feel yourself growing more and more self-conscious the longer he just stares at you. You just want some sign from him that everything that he’s done to you or said to you has had some meaning, some stupid, selfish purpose because at least then it meant something. Then, as if he can read your thoughts, he moves towards you again. Grabbing you roughly, he crashes his lips to yours in the most desperate, needy kiss you’ve ever shared with him and everything fades. All you can feel is him.

“I… I need you,” he murmurs against your lips.

[liroutrozenberg]

Truth or booze, Jake?

"It should be fun." - You say in a pleased tone, sitting comfortably in your seat before looking at the Avatar who agreed to play. - "The last time we did something like this was before the Marine Corps? Correct me if I'm wrong." "I wish it stayed in my head for a long time." - Jake answers as honestly as possible, and his tail beating on the floor with soft knocks betrays his cheerful mood. - "We ended up forgetting about the rules and just getting drunk. Although, I can't say that it somehow disappointed me." "Great mood, because today everything will end the same." - You stated unequivocally, arranging the stack of cards in your palms before placing them in the middle of the table and picking up the one on top. The reaction was not long in coming. "Great." You put the card aside and barely contain your laughter. "Have you ever heard Na'vi having sex or anything like that?" "Let the confession begin." - The man choked on air. He stared at the bottle of alcohol for a few seconds before moving his gaze back to you. - "There's no soundproofing at all. So - yes, I heard and I swear to God, the first time it was as embarrassing as possible." "Did they know you heard them?" - Through laughter, you specify, before finally hiding your face in your palms, in order to somehow drown out the sounds escaping from you. "No. And I never told anyone about it." - The Avatar said firmly, picking up the card. - "That would be as strange as possible, don't you think?" - He watches you try to catch your breath before you read out the question. - "What would be the first thing you would do if one day you woke up as a member of the opposite sex? Really an interesting question." "I slept with another man." - After some thought, you continued. - "And a woman. Damn it, it's very different from what you usually feel when you have sex. I think there is a part of people who somehow think about something like that from time to time or is it that spontaneous thought, that comes to your mind when you're trying to sleep." "So, what if you woke up as an Avatar?" - Sally clarified, folding his palms so that he could calmly rest his head on them while looking at you. "Mm. Same thing, just changing the species." - In fact, you were not sure what exactly this question should have been difficult, but did not focus on this and transferred your interest to the next one. - "Which body part do you like the most?" "Do you mean in yourself or in others?" - Jake clarified, in general, clearly not intending to wash down the answer. "Let's do both." - You answered easily and hid in anticipation, while he concentratedly looked somewhere to the side. "Great. Then in yourself, probably the hands? I don't quite understand why, but it is." - After a nod of approval, he continued. - "In others… hmm. Back and hips, I think. The way the muscles roll under the skin." "Fuck, we're definitely not drunk to death at this rate." - You moan almost disappointedly, throwing your head back towards the ceiling. "Is not a fact." Sally shook his head. - "What is your favorite position in sex?" "Lick, I'll tell you. - You laughed out loud, watching the shock that slowly appeared on your friend's face. - "I'm bad at knowing the names, but the "cowgirl position", if that's what it's called, but when the partners are not just lying, but close - face to the face. And, I think, against the wall, or when one partner holds the other on weight." - The expression on the face of the Avatar at that moment should have been seen live and you regretted that you did not have a phone or camera with you to capture it. - " Your turn. What needs to happen for you to sleep with me?" Sally's confusion changed. You clearly saw how the tips of his ears turned a little red, in truth, you yourself were wondering which stars had to align for this particular man to decide to sleep with you. "I want to know." - You speak firmly, so that the man does not even think about filling the answer with alcohol. He takes a deep breath before rattling off an answer.

"Just say you don't mind, that's all."

[seamayweed]

I am super interested and really looking forward to your bloodhounds fic!

Would you be ok sharing a bit about the plot?

ahhh thank you for the interest and sending me this ask!! *flails* Honestly speaking, there isn’t much of a plot yet /o\

I just thought what if Myeong-gil didn’t let Gun-woo go so easily in the beginning, not letting him pay back the money as part of some twisted cat and mouse game; he wants Gun-woo to eventually come crawling on his knees begging to work for him. Also what if Gun-woo felt guilty about tipping Yang Jae-myeong off to the fact that he’s being tailed etc. and decided to take responsibility for it by working for Myeong-gil? (Woo-jin ofc tags along because like hell he's going to let this kid jump into the shark tank alone!) The rest would be power and mind games between them as Myeong-gil tries to break him, but also rewards him for choosing to work for him after all. There is bound to be plenty of friction since Gun-woo isn’t willing to work as a real bloodhound or hurt other people, though he might be willing to work as Myeong-gil’s bodyguard. Aside from the power struggles, Myeong-gil would treat Gun-woo really well too as one of his own; he’d make sure no one would touch him or his mother ever again. Maybe he’d make similar promises along the lines of what Mr. Choi promised Gun-woo in canon too: saying he’d give Gun-woo his own private boxing studio and buy his mom a new café, no rent for life. I can see him wining and dining him as well, buying him that rib eye Gun-woo always wants to eat! He’d be fascinated and infatuated by Gun-woo, treat him as an equal for the most part, and Gun-woo would be curious about him in his own way too. He wouldn’t be immune to being treated so well and like something special either, and as Myeong-gil confides in him more and more, seeming to trust him and show him more of his vulnerable side, revealing tidbits of his past, Gun-woo would start to care for him too. Maybe even fall for him. He’d start to feel conflicted, torn between the family he found with Hyeon-ju, Mr. Choi and the others - and Myeong-gil (not to mention that their morals are never going to align)… The hardest part is trying to figure out a way for all of this not to end in complete tragedy!

Here’s a snippet from chapter one (it’s growing longer and longer like the scar convo lol):

Warnings: mention of alcoholism and past domestic violence, description of blood and gore

__

He’s wringing his hands again; a habit from his mother. He learned it from watching her. She always did it when she was nervous and Father came home wrapped in an ozone-sharp cloud of alcohol and anger. It’s why he doesn’t drink, why he’s deathly afraid of even tasting a lick of liquor, aside from it being part of his strict diet as a boxer. He rubs and rubs his knuckles until the skin is raw. He does that a lot nowadays.

It’s easy to sink down to his knees and beg, easier than it would have been before, he thinks. 

Before the back-breaking weight of one hundred million won, larger than any debt they’d ever had before and which he would have never been able to pay no matter how many part-time jobs he did; before his mom’s café was smashed to bits and pieces by those thugs and they dared to touch her, his mom, his poor, innocent mom who has never done anything wrong or hurt anyone, who has only ever been hurt, slamming her head down on the table and putting that familiar look of fear in her eyes the way he’d never let anyone do again after Father; before that smiling bastard walked into the store and into their lives, forever etching that horrible, nightmarish night into his face and his mind.

He hates it. He hates how there are two parts of his life now: a before, and after Kim Myeong-gil.

When Hyeon-ju sighs, suggesting that he go to her harabeoji and ask him to lend more money to him since Smile Capital didn’t let him pay back the loan, demanding more instead, the way those bloodsuckers always do, he only shakes his head.

“I don't want to bother Mr. Choi again or take advantage of his kindness. He’s already helped me and my mom plenty, more than enough… and it’s not money that the boss of Smile Capital wants.”

“Then what does he want from you?”

He thinks about how the man leaned down to lap at the open gash on his cheek, warm tongue gliding over raw nerve endings and open flaps of skin while he was barely conscious, eyes open but wild and unseeing, in shock and finely trembling all over, fingers twitching against the ground like the legs of a dying spider.

He hasn’t told Woo-jin, one of the few things he hasn’t told his hyung about, something like shame twisting in his stomach, hot and acid-sour and writhing; serpentine and many-legged and velvety-soft, like the inside of a mouth or the edge of a bruise-purple almost gangrene-black coat sliding over his split knuckles. The way he leaned into it, and into that mouth, because it was the only part of him that wasn’t hurting; that wasn’t sheer, pure, mindless agony.

His lips tremble and he doesn’t answer, unable to.

__

Tagging @highflyerwings & @bobafvcks, in case you two are interested!

[witchhunt-taleofobsessions]

00.3

The man’s grin never faded as he started to hum again, voice low and slightly more in tune, or he just gave up singing the old song he apparently knew not the melody of. Amusement and something wicked dancing on his lip, glinting in his eyes as he stared back at the woman.

‘hate to admit, love the scenery.’ After a long moment of silence he snickered. ‘bound and harmless, even with the blood you are quite a sight.’

‘are you planning on boring me to death before your inquisitor friends arrive?’ the woman’s voice raspy and crooked was laced with black hate and the man laughed loud.

‘wouldn’t that be quite a feat!’ shaking his head he tried to still his laughter into small chuckles, eyes burning into the other with a bit of cruelty. ‘no, no, I have my own questions I have in mind.’ The woman groaned in desperation and tilted her head back, staring up at the ceiling. The man’s chuckle turned a bit darker. ‘but I’m not sure I’ll remember all of them with… distractions like this.’

Emerald eyes glance down to see him lick his lips.

‘lusting after the prey is a new level of fucked up.’

‘tell that to your coastal friend- Oh wait. She’s dead.’ .

The woman sucked in her breath in fuming rage, only the pain of her movements stopping her from snapping her head towards the man.

‘don’t. you. Dare.’ She seethed between clenched jaw which only fuelled the other’s ugly mirth. She sighed in deep – her chest visibly trembling with something crushed in her side – feeble attempt at calming herself.

‘so…’ with grin in his voice and head resting against the bars behind him, looking down at the woman with a bastard smug smile the man let his eyes roam the sight before him. ‘anyone ever told you blood is your colour? Goes wonderfully with your eyes.’ With no response he marched on, unbothered and clearly well entertained. ‘also matches your new bruises, a wonderful palette. Almost a masterpiece. Almost… But something’s missing still.’

His mock deep thoughts earned a glare most foul from the woman. Tilting his head, his grin morphing into a genuine soft smile, his voice barely a whisper. ‘ah yes. The mountain of corpses in your wake. The reason why people burn witches.’

Resting his head on his knuckles as one admires a painting or a gentle scene, he beamed at the woman across. The other merely hitched a breath as she tried to shuffle even further away.

‘and here I was hoping the alcohol would knock you out.’

‘to marvel at my sleeping form, I know. But I have much to ask of you, dearest witch-queen.’

‘you know that’s nonsense.’

‘oh is it?’ his voice shifted back into sharp and cruel. ‘is it nonsense when calamities swipe across kingdoms in the wake of a single woman?’

‘don’t be ridiculous. Some things are coincidence.’

‘ah, you must be thinking of the time the capital of the neighbouring kingdom burnt down. On accident. When a lone woman marched across it.’

‘how would you know, you weren’t even alive.’ A disbelieved, but cautious nerve resonated in the woman. The man leaned forward, his own handcuffs jingling with the sudden movement.

‘so it is true, then. Cause you were there.’ It’s not even a question, it’s a simple affirmation for himself. ‘Many survivors saw you though, their descriptions were impossible to coordinate. A long lost queen, a mad woman, a beggar, a child, a witch… ‘ Ruby red eyes burned into dark and stormy green. Searching for any sign, any recognition, any admittance. ‘ .. a fairy.’ 

An ugly, choked sound left the woman and her caution morphed into disgust. A sharp smile and eyes that could kill glared back to the amused hunter. 

‘wonderful story. What does it have to do with me?’

‘wouldn’t that be a twist.’ ruby red eyes twinkled gleefully. 

‘what.’

‘what reason would a fairy have to do such harm?’

Something hurtful and cruel flashed across the woman’s eyes but she remained silent. The hunter looked on with searching eyes, at times pausing on her lips, bruises and eyes.

‘that’s what I thought as well, only a witch would be so cruel and needlessly destructive.’

This earned him a scoff but no response still.

‘the descriptions. The memories. All witness testimony jumbled up can only attest to a witch as well, changing appearance, deception and seemingly random method. A truly cruel old hag. To kill without reason, to kill without provocation-‘

‘why do you tell me this?’ she shifted in her seat, a tired tilt of her head.

‘why indeed.’ The man leaned forward, one elbow heavy on his knee, his hands deceptively loose in his chains. A smile so sharp it would bleed a lamb dry. ‘Don’t you feel the itch to know? To understand how a witch could be described as a fairy?’

Cold, cold gaze froze up the air between the jail cells.

‘and?'

'HA! and? she asks!' he scooted closer to the bars separating them. 'and who else would know the answers than the witch in question? Tell me!'

For a moment true curiosity met with sage silence.

'no.' the woman turned to shift into a somewhat comfortable sleeping pose. The man rushed to grab onto the bars, chains chiming in his haste.

'you'll have to confess for your crimes, witch, better tell me now, before my goodwill runs out.'

'real charming, coming from a bound hunter.' 

'bound but not harmless. And the inquisition is on its way. You will speak.'

'you'll get what you wish to hear later, leave me be.'

'i'm offering you a civil conversation, hag.'

The woman's snort was ugly, tired and wet from blood still in her broken nose.

'this is how you see civil conversations now? in a jail, bound, beaten and broken?'

'this is much more than any witch could dream of getting, hag. Be grateful my thirst for knowledge is greater than my hate.'

'oh how noble.' a saccharin sweet smile flashed across bruised lips. 'was it your thirst that left me with my life as well? should i kiss your feet for sparing my miserable life?'

'if you insist. You will answer for all your crimes, all your curses. But now you only have to answer this' the hunter's voice was low, slow and laced with something ancient, something that ate up countless wise and sensible man before, something from before time itself. 'why would anyone describe you as a fairy. What did they see? How would they know?'

'how would i know?' real irritation snapped in the dusty cell. 'how would i know others' memories, less their perception of anything?'

'an elusive witch like you had to survive. I know your kind can read others' thoughts.'

'and.'

The man stared at the almost bored woman across him, so far out of reach yet at last so close. His wrath brewing with alcohol lulled him into dreams of torture but decades of searching and growing list of questions won out again. The adrenalin and glory still coursing in his veins probably played up as well. 

'and i offer you a last civil conversation before the inquisition. A last chance to speak rather than confess. A last chance to answer as… something human.'

'must be a new trend, teaching threats before manners.'

'oh i can do manners.' wolfish grin spread across his lips. 'but no hag of your calibre deserves it.'

'than what of this last chance? You know what? don't answer. You're drunk. and i want my last sleep.'

'and you think i'll just stay put?'

'not much you can do with those chains.'

'more than you can with those ropes.'

The woman passed an unimpressed glance at the man and shifted again, still searching for a sitting pose that would let her sleep. A moment later her eyes snapped open as a small burning shock ran through her side, her crushed bones crying for relief. She looked back at the man chuckling, holding out his hand with sparks dancing around it. His wrists smoked a bit under the chains.

'you're an idiot.'

'almost a praise coming from a fallen foe.'

'so what now? you're gonna annoy me with pranks?'

'you'll answer me.'

'where did that civil offer go?'

'you did not take it.' he shrugged, rolling his wrists, quickly checking his skin under the cuffs. 'i have absolutely no problem with torture.'

'you sick fuck.'

'such foul language on such pretty lips.'

'such childish determination.' she turned back, biting down on her pain when another sharp spark danced across the room. Heavy silence and something dark swirled in her glare. 'if you think this will get you anything you're an absolute fool.'

'not the first time i hear it. and look at yourself. this fool got you here. This fool will hear your answers.'

'this fool will hear my answers when the inquisition arrives.' 

'i have different questions.'

'too bad.'

'and after hearing so many pleas from wretches of your kind, i kindly offer the last chance to hear out the other side. take it if you still claim innocence or misunderstanding. i, with great difficulty, offer to hear your side.'

'should have offered this generous ear to those who pleaded for their life.' poison green eyes gleamed like snakes in the dark and the man groaned in frustration. 'i want my last sleep.'

'and i my answers.'

'too. fuckin'. bad.'

[hatsunevivi]

july 21st, 2024 - 10:58 pm

nonsense-ical yearning, references to cheating

tomorrow i have to see her again for the first time in about three months. i haven't stopped thinking about all of it. she never knew me like she thought she did, though it hurts to know i opened up to her. she knows me better than anyone, despite being high off her brains and unable to register anything. i hate seeing her with the people that i like, i dont want ym friends to become like her. i've been thinking about it recently, all the shit ive done with her. when she first got with her boyfriend, i felt the entire rise and fall of the third reich at my feet. when she started looking at me how she used to i felt my fingers cramp up, when she played with my hair i felt myself dissolve. when i kissed her at her house i felt like i had been shot. i remember crying in the library when he found out about it, sobbing into her hoodie. i remember promising myself to never talk to her again, convincing myself i was the reason it all went downhill. she isn't with him anymore, and we haven't talked about it since. i wonder how she feels, about all the shit we do. does she even think of me anymore? about my lips on hers, tasting faintly of her chapstick that i stole. the scar on my thigh from her or the indent on my thumb from our blood oath. does any of it matter to her? does she do this with her other friends? or was i special, something she could hold dear? i don't know, the questions pile up in my brain until they ultimately fall. like rocks on a roadside mountain, falling without warning onto bypassers. i don't like to think about it, i hate thinking about it. all of it makes my body feel sick, like ive been bedrotting for twelve whole years. i try to convince myself that i hate her, but in reality i know shes the same girl i fell in love with. the same girl i spent hours and days with, kissing giddly at slumber parties and crying with her. but shes also the girl that ruined me, the girl who avoided me for months and the girl who told everyone my secrets. the girl i fell in love with for the things that made her, her. maybe it was her being my first kiss, her teaching me how to draw stars and her teaching me all kinds of things. maybe it was the way my humor rubbed off on her and she makes references to my old jokes, reclaiming them as her own. sticking a flag in the ground, right beside an old loose hole. i would let her do anything she wanted if it meant i would see the old her again. if she's cold, i would let her burn the house down. if she's hungry, i would let her open my chest open and devour me. if that's what it took, i would fucking do it. with no complaints, with no questions asked, it would happen. i loved her and she left me, i loved her like a hungry child loves licking knives. i loved her like flies love rotten garbage. i loved her like a crow loves roadkill. i loved her like an alcoholic mother loves throwing glass bottles. i would be whatever she wanted, what ever she needed. i miss her like a stray dog in the woods. i love her like a sick animal thats good for nothing but loving someone. i won't wait forever, ive told myself that so many times. so why do i keep waiting? the clock ticks, the sound makes me shiver. i lost her to reality, i've realized. drugs and alcohol got a hold of her, drowning out the soul she used to be. i just want her to love me again, i run with red flags waiting for the bulls to run towards me. but the only bull that i want isn't at the competition.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Smut prompt #143 with a tall dom Male reader with sub Peter parker.

Peter Parker x Male!reader

One of the perks to you and Peter dating in secret meant that on your school trip to Europe you were allowed to share a hotel room without anyone thinking twice about it. 

"Shit Peter this room is amazing," you say as you guys enter your fancy hotel room in Prague. 

"Look at this view," he says in awe, taking in the view of the city. 

"I like my view way better;" you grin, staring at his ass. 

"You know… we have an hour until we have to be downstairs for the opera," Peter says, biting his lip. 

"Why don't we make the most of it then," you say before kissing him. 

"Get on your knees," you order and Peter sinks to the floor, unbuckling your jeans and mouthing your cock through your underwear, "don't be shy Peter, take it out and suck on it." 

Peter gulps and frees your cock, kissing and licking the tip while stroking the base to get you hard. 

Once you're hard he begins sucking your cock, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm. 

"God Peter you're so good at this," you praise and he moans with his mouth full of your cock.

Peter savors the taste of your precum on his tongue and delightfully winces when you tug on his hair. 

"That's enough Peter, now I want to fuck you," you say and Peter stands back up, hastily removing his clothes.

With both of you now naked you decide it's probably better to not make a mess of your bed just yet in case Mr Harrington does one of his random room checks for alcohol or any other funny business.

You go the bathroom and grab a towel, laying it over the edge of the bed  

"Bend over the bed and spread your legs for me," you command and Peter obliges. 

Being that you have a bit of time for foreplay you get to your knees, licking his balls from behind before probing his hole with your tongue. 

"Y/N," Peter moans while you tease him. 

Your fingers grip his cheeks to keep him spread wide open, your tongue lubing him up for the first finger that enters him. 

His cock twitches, pressed firmly between his stomach and the mattress as you pump your finger and then add a second. 

"Please put your dick in me," Peter sighs. 

"What's that Peter?" You say wanting him to beg. 

"Please Y/N, please fuck me," he pleads. 

You give a soft kiss to his ass cheek and get up, lining your cock and easily sliding inside him. 

Peter grips the nicest duvet cover he's ever seen and he groans as you're thrusting into him. 

"Does that feel good baby?" You ask, giving him a few slow thrusts to taunt him. 

"God yes Y/N," he mutters, rubbing him throbbing cock against the mattress.

You suddenly pick up the speed, causing Peter to cry out in pleasure. 

You hold onto his hips, keeping him in place as you rail him. 

"You're taking my dick so good Peter," you praise, bottoming out and staying still for a few seconds so Peter can feel you in his core. 

"I'm gonna cum," Peter says as you resume fucking him. 

"Not until I do," you demand and Peter tries to abstain from his orgasm. 

Peter's knuckles are turning red from how harshly he's gripping the sheets, set on following your orders. 

Peter moans loudly when you cum inside him, a feeling so incredible he would never get used to it. 

"Now you can cum Peter," you say and he immediately let's go, squirting cum between his stomach and the towel. 

He's way too sensitive now, tapping on the bed signaling he needs you to pull out of him. 

He stands up and his knees are shaking, you grab the towel and use the clean area to wipe his cum off his stomach. 

"Turn around love," you say sweetly. 

You use the towel to wipe away as much cum as you can from his ass and softly touch the indentations left behind by your nails earlier. 

"Go to the bathroom and finish cleaning up, we have to be downstairs in ten minutes," you tell him. 

Peter is wobbly on his feet but makes it to the bathroom while you search your bags for the suits you brought. 

You head to the bathroom and find Peter has finished cleaning your cum out of him. 

"Here's your suit sweetie," you say and the two of you get dressed. 

"No one will be able to tell you just got your ass pounded," you joke as you tie his tie for him. 

"Love you Y/N," he says, still hazy and kisses you gently. 

"Love you too," you smile and you're sure to continue your aftercare into the opera so you can fuck him again as soon as you get back to your hotel room and take full advantage of its amenities. 

[jjungkookislife]

Crybaby [Ch.4]

pairing: namjoon x f. reader

genre: f2l, fluff, angst [18+]

wc: 8.5k

warnings: cursing, oc gets babied a lot!, oc cries a lot!, alcohol use/mentions, anxiety, oc is self-conscious, self-deprecating thoughts

date: April 16, 2022

A few days later, you find yourself on Jungkook’s couch, curled up to his side while Yoongi wraps his arms around both of you despite lying behind Jungkook. Sometimes you felt bad intruding on their couple's time, but both men had assured you that you were more than welcome to join them whenever you wanted to.

You were thankful for them. You’re not sure what you’d do without either of them and you didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m sorry about before,” you apologize, your fingers lacing with Jungkook’s. He squeezes your hand.

“Hush, there’s no need for that. We can talk about it if you’d like, but we won’t force you to. We were just worried about you…” Yoongi says as his hand laces with yours on the other side of Jungkook.

“Is Namjoon home?” you ask, moving your head off Jungkook’s shoulder to look at both of your friends.

“Nah,” Jungkook shakes his head, his black hair covering his eyes. He blows it away but all it does is ruffle it before Yoongi’s moving it out of his face.

“Thank you,” Jungkook chirps, cheeks tinted pink. “Namjoon went with Hoseok and Jin to some bar downtown. He won’t be home till late. You can talk freely.”

“I told him…” you say, trailing off as you rest your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. Yoongi looks down at him, the two exchanging a look, conversing silently.

“Told him?” Yoongi licks his lips as he quirks his head, hoping you’re both on the same page.

“Yeah, about me and how I am,” you explain briefly. “That’s why I was out of sorts that day.”

Jungkook suddenly has everything click in his mind, but why couldn’t you have just told him that on Sunday? Why did you have to run away from him and everyone else?

“That’s why you ran,” he sighs. “Did you want to tell him?”

“I mean, sort of?” you’re unsure. “It kind of just happened. I woke up from a nightmare and I ran into him. I don’t really know how it even came up. It’s all a blur,” you admit as you turn to look at your friends.

“What did he say?” Yoongi prods.

“He said wishing I was different was an injustice to myself and everyone who loves me,” you clear your throat, suddenly feeling awkward under their penetrating gaze.

“That’s true,” Jungkook nods in agreement. He knew his brother had a way with words and he knew he’d take care of you just like he did. After all, Namjoon was well aware that the both of you were (platonic) soulmates and he’d never do anything to destroy that bond the two of you shared. Namjoon knew how important you were to Jungkook, which is why it made it so hard to hide his feelings despite Jungkook’s meddling.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had to open myself up to someone new,” you continue, pushing Jungkook’s hoodie sleeve up to expose his tattoos. You traced the small heart on his hand absentmindedly, a habit of yours you developed to calm you down. Other days, when you were in a panic of sorts, Jungkook would take out some washable markers and allow you to color in the outlines of his tattoos.

“It’s challenging, no doubt. But Namjoon cares about you as the rest of us do,” Yoongi assures you. “We wouldn’t let just anyone in.”

Jungkook nods in agreement with his boyfriend. “I’d never let anyone hurt you, Baby. Not ever.”

“Thanks, Kookie. You too, Yoongs. I love you both so much. I’m sorry for worrying you and running off.”

“Ah, stop apologizing or I’m pushing you both off the couch!” Yoongi exclaims jokingly, sticking his tongue out at you. You turn to look at him, sticking your own tongue out in return.

“What did I do?” Jungkook huffs at his boyfriend, a fake scowl on his face.

“You’re her co-conspirator!” Yoongi exclaims, giving Jungkook a peck on the cheek. “Besides, you two are making my legs go numb.”

“Suck it up, buttercup,” You giggle, lying back on Jungkook’s chest.

“Yeah, suck it up, buttercup,” Jungkook repeats, chuckling when Yoongi rolls his eyes at the both of you.

“I don’t see why I always end up being the big spoon,” he grumbles. Jungkook pokes his side. "Do you wanna switch?”

“No, it’s easier to toss both of you off the couch from here,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Anyway,” Jungkook says, ignoring his boyfriend. “Have you talked to Namjoon? He didn’t mention that you’d told him.”

“He found me after I left. He took me out for ice cream and we talked some more. We’re friends now,” you smile brightly.

“Where did he take you?” Jungkook raises a brow, his tone suspicious.

“Nowhere special,” you lie, but Jungkook knows better. The human lie detector that he is, can spot it a mile away.

“Liar!” He calls you out immediately and you blanch.

“What? No!” you protest too quickly, voice a higher pitch.

“He took you to The Creamery, didn’t he?!” Jungkook asks, sure of himself as he sits up, tugging you onto his lap.

“Okay, okay! He did and it was delicious!” you smirk, ruffling his hair.

“What’s The Creamery?” Yoongi asked, puzzled.

“It was mine and Joon’s secret ice cream shop,” Jungkook grumbles, tickling your sides. You laugh, falling into him and Yoongi. “But I guess our Crybaby is in on it now.”

“Why am I not in on it?” Yoongi pouts.

“You will be. I don’t think Namjoon will mind,” Jungkook smiles, kissing Yoongi hastily before he’s pulling you off his lap. “We can even get Tae and Jimin to come.”

You grin, walking to the door to grab your purse off the coat rack. Yoongi stretches as he rises from the couch, popping his joints before he pats down his pockets to make sure he has his phone and wallet.

“I’ll drive,” Jungkook volunteers. Yoongi shrugs, not caring either way as he takes Jungkook’s car keys from the bowl on the entrance table.

“We’ll be in the car waiting,” Yoongi calls to him as Jungkook makes sure the stove is off and rummages around the living room for his wallet. Not that he needs it since Yoongi would offer to pay like always but he should at least have his license on hand.

Not too long after, Yoongi is sitting across from you and Jungkook, his ice cream cone in hand.

“I can’t believe you kept this a secret from me,” he moans as he licks his ice cream. His eyes flutter shut as the sweet treat sits on his tongue.

“I had to,” Jungkook laughs, his own ice cream sitting in a waffle bowl on the picnic table. He grins when he looks at you, “You know, Cherry Brown Cow is Joon’s favorite.”

“Oh? I didn’t know,” you fib. Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. Sure.

“Scoot over, Min,” Jimin huffs as he plants his butt down on the bench beside Yoongi.

“Where’s Tae?” You ask, looking over your shoulder but your friend is nowhere in sight.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “He’s still picking out a flavor. I didn’t want my ice cream to melt so I left him. He’s sampling all the flavors but I know he’s gonna end up getting vanilla, like always.”

You giggle, typical Tae.

“So I guess this isn’t our secret anymore, Kook?” Namjoon chuckles as he approaches the table.

Jungkook blushes, “Oops?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes playfully at his brother before taking a seat beside you.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you breathe, ignoring the rapid palpitations of your heart.

“Okay, what did I miss?” Taehyung asks as he scurries to the table with a cone. None of you are surprised to see it’s plain vanilla with a pinch of sprinkles. You gag, sprinkles were disgusting.

“What brings you here?” Yoongi inquires, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Jimin texted me asking for directions,” Namjoon shrugs. He’d made sure to get Hoseok and Jin home before coming out to join you. He wasn’t upset that his secret spot wasn’t a secret anymore, now he could share it with you and all his new friends.

Your friends easily fall into conversation with each other, and you manage to ignore the heat of Yoongi’s gaze as Namjoon leans in closer to talk to you.

“Do you want some? It’s your favorite,” you offer him your ice cream cone, and Namjoon hesitates for a second before leaning in and taking a small bite. He grins, thanking you. It makes butterflies swirl around in your stomach. Your heart thuds harshly in your chest. Heat rises to your cheeks as you murmur a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

The dimpled smile Namjoon gives you, sends your heart soaring to your throat, your mind going haywire as you blatantly stare at his grin. Has he always been this beautiful? His eyes so bright and filled with warmth? Has his aura always brought peace to those around him? Was it normal for you to feel uncharacteristically safe in his presence?

Namjoon quirks his head, bemused. Was something on his face? Or could you hear the rapid pounding of his heart? Could you tell he was nervous and his hands were growing sweaty despite resting on his jeans?

You look away, unable to hold his gaze much longer. He chuckles, resting his chin in his palm as he places his elbow on the table. He tunes in and out of everyone’s conversation, his eyes glued to your profile as you continue to eat your ice cream. He notices the way you purposely avoid his gaze, and he knows it’s out of being frazzled. Do you know you affect him the same way?

“So pretty,” he utters softly, barely audible but your hearing must be impeccable because you turn to face him, a softness to your gaze that overpowers the self-consciousness you typically feel around him.

“What?” you ask sheepishly, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly.

Namjoon is at a loss for words; barely able to breathe as your lashes flutter once, twice. Your gaze is curious and demure, there’s a hint of uncertainty that delves in the corners, but that just gives him more courage to restate his words with more confidence.

“You’re so pretty, Crybaby.” His words have your mind whirling with thoughts, but you’re incapable of wording any of them aloud. Is it normal to feel this way? Or does he have some sort of hold on your brain to render you incoherent with just his words?

Namjoon laughs gently. How is it possible for someone to be so cute? So adorable?

Without even registering, Namjoon’s fingers stroke your cheek delicately. He’s in awe of you, of your beauty, of your being. You always seem to have him under a spell when you’re near and he honestly doesn’t believe he wants to be set free. He’d gladly stare into your eyes forever, hold you in his arms until he took his last breath, treasure you in his heart until the very end.

Crybaby.

His Crybaby.

Jimin shares a look with Jungkook, the two seemingly communicating in silence about the two friends sitting on Jungkook’s left. Yoongi has no qualms about staring blatantly at the both of you; he wants his Baby to be safe and although he’s come to cherish Joon as a friend, you’re the baby of the group. He sees you as a little sister, and his (future) brother-in-law better be careful with your heart just like Yoongi is with Jungkook’s. He’s never really taken on the role of an older brother before, but you pulled that out of him naturally. He just wanted what was best for you but he knew better than to meddle… unlike his loving boyfriend who was scooting into your side to push you further into his brother. Subtle.

Understanding what had gone on between the two of you that night and how you're both acting now, filled in a lot of blanks for Yoongi. He never wanted to push you into speaking about anything you didn’t want to or weren’t ready to share; he knew from experience that pushing you to speak just backed you into a figurative wall and made you feel worse. Yoongi had made it his mission to build a safe, warm, trusting environment where you could share with him (and Jungkook) if—not when— the need arises.

“Quit staring,” Jimin grumbles as he raises his ice cream cone to his lips to hide them, but honestly, it’s not like you and Namjoon would even notice if he hadn’t. The both of you were in your own little world, so far from earth, it didn’t even matter.

“Not staring,” Yoongi shrugs, turning his gaze to his boyfriend, who’s smiling brightly. Yoongi knows it must be hard for him not to meddle more than he already has but to be fair, Jungkook’s never seen you like this with anyone. Not in a long, long time. And he was aware that he was getting ahead of himself, hearing wedding bells in his head as he imagined you as his sister-in-law.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi is cautious with the volume of his voice, his foot gently kicking at his boyfriend’s, hoping not to draw your attention. At this point, he doesn’t think a meteor would catch your attention or Namjoon’s for that matter, but there’s nothing wrong in trying to be discreet… unlike his loving partner who gawks at the two of you with hearts in his eyes. “You’re being too obvious, love.”

Jungkook finally rips his eyes off you, “I am not!”

“Shh,” Yoongi hisses, an eyebrow raised in your direction. “You’re gonna make them look over here.”

“Please, a T-Rex could stomp on our table and Namjoon would still manage to keep his eyes locked on her,” Jimin scoffs. Taehyung is oblivious to his surroundings, rising from his seat to go inside the shop for another cone.

Jimin’s words are true to an extent, though. Namjoon is still caressing your skin, his thumb swiping the corner of your lips where you had a bit of ice cream. He pops his thumb into his mouth, licking it clean as your eyes widen in surprise.

Namjoon chuckles, cheeks flushed pink as he scoots closer to you. You don’t even care about your ice cream anymore, some of it melting over the cone to meet your fingers.

“Finish your ice cream, Crybaby,” Namjoon instructs with a smirk as he grabs a napkin from the small pile in the center of the table. He cleans your hand as best as he can before he’s rising from the table to throw the used napkin into the trash can.

Jungkook nudges you with his elbow, wiggling his eyebrows at you before he’s kicked under the table by his boyfriend.

“What are we doing this weekend?” Taehyung asks as he rejoins the group with his cone in hand. This time he surprises you all when he has chocolate instead of vanilla. It was rare for your friend to deviate from his favorite flavor.

“We can head to that bar you went to if it’s good?” Jungkook leans forward to look at his brother as he takes the seat beside you once again. Namjoon blinked owlishly, taking a second to process what his brother’s said.

“Oh, sure. It was decent, even for a weeknight,” Namjoon shrugs.

“Would you wanna go, Baby?” Jimin asks you.

“Sounds fun. Especially if we all go,” you agree easily. It makes Taehyung eye you suspiciously but says nothing as he continues to eat his treat.

Jungkook asks his brother more about the bar they had gone to, wanting to know as many details as possible before he’s looking it up on his phone, exclaiming excitedly when he sees it’s near one of his favorite clubs.

You finish your ice cream whilst listening to your friends talk. Namjoon scooted in closer to you to better hear his brother and the plans for Saturday night. You flush with heat when you feel his thigh press against yours, your heart fluttering in your chest. You try to keep cool, not wanting to short circuit from the mere touch. Jimin notices though, a small smile tugging at his lips. As long as you were happy, he’d support whatever decision you made concerning Namjoon.

Namjoon is unaware of his effect on you as he leans closer, his body so close to yours you can smell the light scent of his cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be wrapped up in his arms and cuddling into him to smell him as long as possible. You find his scent soothing.

You involuntarily shiver from his proximity and he immediately notices. “Cold?”

You nod, unsure of what else to do. Namjoon smiles down at you warmly, easily taking his jean jacket off and draping it over your shoulders. You pull it closer to you by the sleeves, overwhelmed by his scent but comforted all the same. You quite like the feeling.

“I gotta get going,” Taehyung pouts. “I have work early tomorrow.”

“We’ll see you all this weekend though,” Jimin assures as he waits for Taehyung to slide out of the bench so he can get up without kicking the younger man.

“See ya!” Jungkook waves at them.

“Bye! Text me when you get home!” you call after them.

“We will!” They shout in unison.

“I hate when they do that,” you grumble, making your remaining friends laugh.

“Babe, don’t forget, we need to go to the store to get stuff for your lunch tomorrow,” Yoongi reminds Jungkook, who groans.

“Do you wanna come along, Crybaby?” Jungkook asks you as he gathers the trash from the table before rising from his seat.

“I should get home,” you say, muffling a yawn poorly.

“I can take you home,” Namjoon volunteers, his ears burning red when his brother and Yoongi give him a look. “I-if you want.”

Jungkook walks to throw the trash as Yoongi rounds the table, his hand lacing with Kook’s, “Whichever is fine with us, Crybaby. We don’t mind.”

You freeze, looking at the three men. You hated being put on the spot like this! Making decisions made you shut down, and the last thing you wanted to do was hurt anyone’s feelings by not going with them.

Jungkook notices the panic in your eyes, quickly letting go of Yoongi to kneel beside you, his hands on your thighs.

“Look at me, Baby.” You do so, tears welling up in your eyes already. Jungkook’s heart aches at the sight. “Why don’t you let Namjoon take you home, and after work tomorrow, I’ll make you dinner? Does that sound good?”

A single tear rolls down your cheek as you swallow the knot that’s formed in your throat. The panic slowly unravels from your body as you find it easier to breathe once again. You nod, agreeing with Jungkook as he wipes away your tear. He smiles softly at you, his fingers tilting your chin up so you’ll look up at him.

“There’s our girl,” he says sweetly when you give him a ghost of a smile. “I love you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans in to press a kiss on your forehead, his arms wrapping around you to squeeze you tightly.

“I love you too,” you whisper, overwhelmed with love for your best friend. He squeezes you tighter until you wheeze before he laughs and releases you.

“My precious Crybaby. What I wouldn’t do to see you smile,” he says, kissing your cheek before giving his brother a stern look. “Get her home safe.”

Namjoon nods, swallowing thickly as Jungkook rises to his feet to walk to his boyfriend. He laces their hands together before they wave at the two of you, reminding you to text them when you get home safe.

After they’re gone, Namjoon rubs the nape of his neck sheepishly… had he overstepped? You were friends now, sure, but you hadn’t been alone since Sunday and he didn’t know if you were comfortable with him taking you home.

“Ready?” you find yourself asking, rising from the bench and slipping your arms into his jacket, pulling it close to your chest as you drape your cross body bag over your chest.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, clearing his throat as he curses himself out in his head for being a bumbling fool in front of you. “I’m over here.”

You walk beside him in silence, spotting his car not too far off. You enjoy the night chill as the wind ruffles your hair as you walk. Namjoon’s scent fills your nose as you pull the jacket tighter, inhaling profoundly.

“Do you remember how to get to my house?” you ask once you’re in his car, seatbelt strapped snuggly over your chest as Namjoon pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road. His phone is in your hands as you look through his playlist, surprised he’s updated it since you were last in his car. You can see some of your favorite songs have been added, and it makes your heart flip in your chest.

“Yes, I do. My sense of direction isn’t the best but I promise to get you home safe,” he assures you, smiling at you as you play a song.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you giggle before singing along. Namjoon likes your voice, albeit you’re a tad off-key, he doesn’t care. He’s glad you can feel relaxed around him, comfortable enough to sing in front of him and just be yourself, even if he can feel a tidbit of resistance. He won’t rush you, won’t pressure you to break down your walls for him until you’re ready to let him fully in.

*

“See, I told you I’d get you home safe!” Namjoon cheers as he pulls into your driveway, parking the car.

“Okay, but I only doubted you a little,” you tease, a smile tugging at your lips. It makes Namjoon’s heart skip a beat.

“That’s… fair,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Thanks for getting me home,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt. Namjoon waves you off, “It’s no problem, Baby. I wanna make sure you’re always safe.”

“I appreciate it, Joonie.” You bite your lip, you really didn’t want your time with him to end, but you had to be up early tomorrow for work. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Of course!” Namjoon nods.

You open the door, turning to look at him and leaning in to kiss his cheek before you have time to psych yourself out. “Thanks again, Joonie!”

Namjoon is star-struck, dumbly nodding as you giggle, shutting the car door and skipping up to your front door. He places his hand on his cheek, and he swears he can still feel your lips on his skin. You wave once you unlock and open your front door, shouting “bye!”

Namjoon manages to wave, unable to breathe for a second as he sees your door shut. You’d kissed him. His cheeks flush with heat, a dimpled smile appearing on his lips. Sweet Crybaby.

“Crybaby!” Jimin throws himself on you, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smile, hugging him back as he squeezes you tightly before letting you go.

“You look amazing!” he whistles as he eyes you up and down. You smile bashfully. “You think so?”

Jimin nods, motioning for you to spin. You do so, feeling his gaze and a few others as Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin appear in the living room.

“Well fuck,” Hoseok blurts, a bright grin illuminating his face. “You look wonderful, Crybaby.”

“It’s not too much?” Your wavering voice doesn’t go unnoticed and it’s Jin who shakes his head. “No, you look beautiful. And wow! Your dress has pockets!”

You nod excitedly, putting your hands in your pockets and spinning around once again, a giant smile on your face. Crisis averted.

“How many phones can you fit in the pockets?” Taehyung asks curiously as he stuffs his phone in one pocket before Hoseok, Seokjin, and Jimin are stuffing their phones in the other pocket. Yoongi appears, shaking his head as he sees you stuffed to the brim with phones before Hoseok eggs him on to add his. Reluctantly he does so, surprised to see it fits. However, he thinks you’re at your limit, so he removes his phone before it has a chance to clatter on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook questions as he pops in from the kitchen, a drink in hand.

“They’re stuffing her with phones,” Yoongi replies coolly.

“Please, don’t act like you weren’t a part of it,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. Yoongi smiles sheepishly, “So what if I was?”

“At least you won’t lose your phone tonight,” Seokjin chuckles, taking his phone from your pocket and then Hoseok’s.

“Let’s go drink,” Jimin says, taking his phone from your pocket. He kisses your cheek before he goes to the kitchen followed by Jungkook, Yoongi, and Seokjin. Hoseok excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Taehyung wraps his arms around you. “I’ve missed you, Baby. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“You saw me the other night for ice cream,” you remind him. He chuckles, his chest shaking against yours. “You’re right. We need to hang out soon. You’re the only one who will listen to jazz with me and there’s a new club opening up soon. Will you go with me? Pretty please?”

You can’t resist his adorable smile or the way he bats his lashes, and when you smile softly, he knows he’s got you.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! You’re the best, Crybaby! We’ll get dinner beforehand and we’ll make a night out of it!” Taehyung is nearly bouncing with excitement, twirling his arms around in a circle before Jimin is hollering for him to come to the kitchen.

Jungkook calls for you right after, asking what’s taking the both of you so long. You start to follow Taehyung, but Namjoon comes out of his room, adjusting his shirt. You can’t help but stare at the way his biceps nearly bulge out of the seams, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile you hope is only for you. It makes your insides warm, and you hope you don’t stutter.

“Hi!” you chirp, overly excited, immediately reprimanding yourself internally for it. “Hi.”

“Are you excited for tonight? You look beautiful,” he compliments genuinely and your heart is skyrocketing to the moon, bursting and dispersing among the stars.

“I-yeah. Thank you, Joonie!” you break eye contact, feeling hot all of a sudden.

“Crybaby! What’s holding you up?” Hoseok calls, peeking into the hall. He whistles, wiggling his brows as he goes back into the kitchen. You laugh, rolling your eyes as you head toward the kitchen.

“Finally, Baby.” Jungkook hands you a drink, your favorite. You thank him as you lean against the counter. Namjoon enters soon after, greeting his friends before Jimin is handing him a drink. He murmurs thanks, leaning against the island, his eyes on you.

You try to listen to the conversation around you, but all you can zero on is Namjoon. Even if he turns slightly to join in on a conversation, it’s not long until his eyes are meeting yours again, your heart thundering in your chest. It causes you to chug your drink, setting the cup down before Jimin’s got another ready for you. How he drinks alcohol like water, you’re not sure but you’re glad he’s got another drink ready for you. If nothing else it gives you a distraction from Namjoon and how heavenly he looks tonight with his forehead on display, a rare occurrence. A delightful occurrence.

“Are you going to save a dance for me, Crybaby?” Hoseok smirks, wiggling his hips. You laugh, shaking your head. “You know I don’t dance much.”

“I don’t know why, Baby. You’re good at it,” he assures you. Jimin nods in agreement, but you shake your head. “Not really.”

Hoseok doesn’t push, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “If you change your mind, you come and find us, okay?”

“Sure,” you fib, sipping your drink.

After the third round of drinks, Yoongi deems everyone tipsy enough to head out. Rides are ordered and you’re paired off into groups. Jimin, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Seokjin in one car. You, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Namjoon in another. Namjoon grabs his jean jacket that you’ve hooked on the coat rack upon your arrival, shrugging it on. He can smell your scent on it, and he realizes he quite likes how it meshes well with his. He’s not entirely sure why his heart somersaults in his chest…

Unfortunately for him, he’s made to sit up front. You’re tucked in the backseat between Yoongi and Jungkook, both men’s thighs pressed against yours. You idly play with the black material of your fishnets as Jungkook rambles excitedly about the new drink he’s wanting to try.

Namjoon looks over his shoulder at a light, he catches you already looking at him. You squeak with the embarrassment of having been caught. Namjoon chuckles, turning to face forward once again. He hopes someday you can feel a hundred percent comfortable with him.

“Finally,” Jungkook groans as he gets out of the car. He extends his hand for you as Namjoon appears behind him. His eyes roam over to your legs as they get out of the car, the fishnets you’re wearing making him gulp. He’d refrained from staring too long in his home, but now that his alcohol-addled brain was in control, he found it insanely hard.

“She’s got eyes,” Yoongi grunts as he rounds the car.

Namjoon wonders if an asteroid can take him out if he wills it hard enough.

Luckily, you don’t hear Yoongi, too busy watching your step as Jungkook laces his hand with yours as Seokjin strolls up toward your group, followed by the others.

You easily get into the building, heading straight for the bar. Taehyung gets you a barstool immediately, helping you onto it before Yoongi opens up a tab for you, Jungkook, himself, and Namjoon.

“We’ll have some drinks here and see if it’s worth the hype. If not, we can go next door,” Jungkook assures you as he orders a drink for you.

The music is loud, you can barely hear yourself think. It’s decently crowded, but it’s still considered a little early to be out. You’re not surprised when half your friend group disappears into the crowd, all eager to mingle and have a good time.

Usually, they’d take turns staying with you at the bar, but Jungkook had promised to be at your side for the night. However, you urge him to go dance with Yoongi as Namjoon stands beside you.

Jungkook sends a look to his brother, silently communicating before Jungkook gives in. He takes his drink and Yoongi’s hand to head to the dance floor.

“Thank you for staying with me,” you shout into Namjoon’s ear.

“Don’t mention it, Crybaby.” He grins, his fingers brushing your cheek. You smile, leaning into his touch in the slightest.

Namjoon falls into conversation easily as you finish your drink. He has you drink some water in between, which you do to clear your mind a little bit. Some of your friends have stopped by for a quick chat, but have ultimately disappeared in the sea of bodies moving on the dance floor.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s a text from Jungkook in the group chat, wanting to round up the herd so you can pop in next door.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you shout over the music. Namjoon nods, helping you out of the barstool. “I’ll walk you. There are too many people here.”

You nod as he takes your hand in his. You can’t keep yourself from squeezing it. It fits so perfectly in yours. You admire the way his arm muscles look under the strobe lights as he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s so strong, you think as you clear through the crowd with ease.

“I’ll wait here,” he tells you as you reluctantly let go of his hand.

You’re quick to use the bathroom after standing in line for a few minutes. You’re happy to see Joon is right where he said he’d be.

“I’m back,” you chirp.

He takes your hand once again, your heart melting into a puddle. Why does holding his hand feel so right?

“This is so much better,” Seokjin says as he fans himself. Hoseok agrees, pinching his shirt to fan his chest.

Jungkook had called ahead, reserving a booth for you on the second floor. You were thankful to be able to sit down once again. You’d been to this club before, and you knew eventually you’d end up on the dance floor with Jimin or Jungkook, whichever gave you the best puppy-dog eyes.

Another drink appears in front of you, and you take it gratefully. Namjoon is still at your side, and you’re all taking a few moments to regroup. Hoseok brought along someone he met at the bar next door, easily falling into conversation with her while Seokjin conversed with her friend. The four rise from their seats, heading to the dance floor.

Jimin and Taehyung have sat beside you, talking animatedly as they sip their drinks, both eager to get back out on the dance floor.

Jimin turns to face you, his hand resting on your thigh to get your attention. “Do you wanna dance, Crybaby?”

“Sure,” you answer, surprising him. He doesn’t give you a chance to change your mind before he pulls you up with him, grabbing Taehyung with his free hand. You have a split second to grab Namjoon, startling him as he’s pulled out of the seat to join you.

Jimin holds your hand tightly as Taehyung clears a path for the four of you on the dance floor, his broad shoulders making it easy to get through the sea of sweaty bodies.

Anxiety immediately bubbles in your stomach when you come to a stop. Jimin squeezes your hand, offering a gentle smile, “It’s just us. Nobody else is looking.”

You swallow thickly, nodding as Jimin begins moving to the beat easily with Taehyung. Your hand is still in his as he spins you around to face Namjoon.

You gasp, stomach tied in knots as you meet his gaze. He offers you a soft smile, his dimples becoming prominent and your heart flutters shamelessly in your chest.

Your hands reach out for him, giggling when he comes to you easily. He’s just as flustered as you, but seeing you smiling and eager to have fun is all he needs for him to relax and fall into step beside you.

Jimin smirks, releasing your hand as he steps away from you to give you and Namjoon room to dance. Taehyung watches the two of you curiously, curls bouncing as he dances with Jimin.

“What do you think?” Jungkook asks his boyfriend as the two look over the dance floor, spotting you and Namjoon rather easily.

“I think you need to let them figure it out on their own,” Yoongi chuckles, wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s waist.

“You’d think so, huh?” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I just want them to be happy. It’s easy to see they care for each other.”

“It’s not our place. We’re not matchmakers, Kook.”

“You’re right,” Jungkook sighs, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before turning to his boyfriend. “No more meddling. I promise.”

Yoongi smiles, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple, “I’ll hold you to it.”

Dancing with Namjoon was a different experience than with any of your other friends. For one, he kept his distance, which you appreciated. He knew better than to push your boundaries, but that also meant his gaze was on your face instead of the back of your head. You were used to being sandwiched between your friends, hands on your waist, and their chest pressed to yours or your back. You didn’t have to worry about looking them in the eye when you danced, which allowed you to dance freely, without judgment and anxiety over your moves.

The rapid beating of your heart rivaled the loud rush of blood in your ears. Why was it so loud?

Namjoon knows he shouldn't stare at you. He can’t help it though, you look so cute swaying to the music, avoiding his gaze at all costs. He tries his best to look away, but any time he does, he unwillingly catches the gaze of someone else… which makes him panic at the thought of someone cutting in between you and him. He wants to stay at your side, that was the sole reason he’d agreed to come out. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you… or the kiss. It had been such a long week for him. He had ended up counting down the seconds until he saw you again, and you did not disappoint.

“Are you okay?!” Namjoon shouts over the music. You nod in response, moving closer as the crowd pushes. Jimin is still nearby with Tae, but now they’re chatting with a few people, easily distracted by the chance to socialize. However, Jimin keeps an eye on you from his spot, not wanting you to think he’s left you on your own.

“Yeah,” you answer but Namjoon knows you’re lying. He moves closer to you, his hands cupping your face and you meet his eyes. They’re beautiful. They’re so dark, they’re almost black but you know better. You know they look like pools of sweet melted milk chocolate on a summer’s day when the sun hits them just right. You know they hold love, friendliness, compassion, and trust in those gorgeous eyes. Maybe that’s why your racing heart slows into its normal rhythm after a moment. His touch is delicate, handling you as if you were fragile, one of a kind. And he supposes that you are. Cliche as it sounds, nobody has aroused these feelings in him in such a long time. He’s at a loss just like you.

Namjoon’s tongue peeks between his lips, swiping along the bottom one to moisten it before doing the same to the top. You’re in awe of him. How can his touch have this effect on you? You wish you were anywhere else but here. You wanted to be alone with him, to have him hold you until you felt safe once again. Can he read the panic in your eyes? Has he bypassed all the obstacles to your heart?

“Focus on me, baby,” he instructs, his gaze darker but the softness somehow remains. You gasp when you realize the only time he’s had that look in his eyes is when he looks at you.

Namjoon smiles warmly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin. You’re under his spell. You’re in too deep… and you don’t care. You wanna fall deeper. Headfirst into the ocean of mystery and wonder that is Kim Namjoon.

“Crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You melt against him, whining when he pulls away. “Spin.”

It takes a second for you to comprehend what he’s said before he’s taking your hand and spinning you once, twice. A giggle escapes you, a wide grin appearing on your lips.

Crisis averted… for now.

“Joonie!” You squeal with laughter, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You take two steps forward, wrapping your arms around Namjoon’s neck to pull him into a hug. It’s short, but it leaves you breathless.

The pounding of the music becomes background noise as you dance with Namjoon. Your worries are pushed aside as he keeps your body moving along to the beat until you find yourself in between him and Jimin with Tae behind Jimin.

Your back is pressed against Namjoon’s. His hands rest at your waist, while Jimin’s are on your hips, pulling you into him. You’re familiar with his moves, easily keeping up as you let the music take over, forgetting all your worries when you’re in Jimin’s hands.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach, your head no longer addled from its alcoholic haze.

Everything is too much! You’re hot, you’re feeling claustrophobic, and you can’t take the stickiness of dried sweat on your skin.

“Joon,” you say his name in a tone that drives panic to his very core. You lick your lips, fanning your face and he’s taking your hand, ceasing his movements and yours.

Namjoon is grateful for his large body, easily pushing people out of his way with small apologetic smiles. Nobody bats an eye as you follow after him until you’re safely wrapped up in him.

“Let’s get you a water and head outside, okay?” He asks, getting the bartender’s attention. He gets you a glass of water and you chug it before setting it on the counter. Namjoon takes your hand and your heart flutters in your chest before becoming overwhelmed by the crowds.

“Just focus on me, Crybaby,” Namjoon says softly, his hand cupping your face gently.

“Okay,” you nod, inhaling profoundly as you squeeze his hand. Namjoon pushes the crowd of dancing bodies with more force as he tugs you along the path he’s creating, ignoring the glares and curses he receives. It takes a few minutes to get to the exit but once the two of you step outside, you instantly relax.

The bouncer gives the two of you a look but Namjoon assures him you’re fine. You nod in agreement before following Joon a little ways from the entrance.

There’s a thick silence between you, more so on your part than his. Your heart is still racing from the adrenaline, and your lungs don’t quite expand like they’re supposed to. Namjoon steps in front of you, offering you his hands to hold, to cement yourself to reality in fear that you’ll lose yourself to the dark thoughts that linger on the edge of your mind. You’re grateful and even in the chill of the night, your breaths come stuttered but Namjoon says nothing, only offers comfort.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing you chose to say once your initial panic wears off. Namjoon immediately goes to wave off the apology but you shake your head. It’s easier for you to apologize than to be waved off and even if sometimes you apologize for things that don’t require it, Namjoon will learn your ways.

“I didn’t mean to pull you away from the fun,” you lick your dry lips, avoiding his gaze. “You can go back inside. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t wanna go back inside,” Namjoon shrugs but he’s being honest. He has no intention of leaving you, much less to be crowded in like a sardine.

You click your tongue but don’t respond. After all, you’re only in charge of yourself and he’s only in charge of himself. You look down the street, groups of friends and lovers walking hand in hand, talking animatedly as they go from bar to bar and you almost wish it were that easy for you to just let go. But it’s not, and you need to be rescued from your surroundings time and time again; a burden to your friends.

“Stop that,” Namjoon says firmly as he takes your face in your hands and sees the cloudiness in your eyes. You exhale but it makes you shiver as you keep your tears at bay. Your throat aches with the strain of unshed tears and you curse yourself again for putting him in this predicament.

You go to apologize but Namjoon just hugs you. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, his large hand cradling your head as he assures you that you’re safe and that he (nor any of your friends) wish you were any different. They love you for you, even if you cry a little more than most.

You chuckle wetly, sighing heavily as Joon eases up on your hold and the fluttering of your heart just makes this moment all that more important.

“You know, you’re almost as spooky as Jungkook,” you sniffle, wiping at your eyes.

“How so?” Namjoon asks as his hands settle on your shoulder, holding you to his side.

“You’re almost spot on at reading me, though I’m sure my crying gives it away.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having emotions,” Namjoon offers but you shake your head.

“There is when they’re as amplified as mine.”

Namjoon clicks his tongue. “I said what I said.”

Your thoughts wander for a moment. The night breeze ruffles your hair and rattles your bones. Namjoon watches you intently, and he realizes it’s something he’s been doing a lot lately; studying you. It’s no wonder he’s gotten such a good read on you but he doubts he’d be like his brother any time soon. The two of you were like two peas in a pod; almost like twins. Jungkook had mastered the art of you and Namjoon could only hope one day to catch up.

“I feel the safest with you seven.” You break the silence, a faraway look in your eye as you try to dissociate, but Joon’s presence is too hard to ignore. “When I’m in that canopy of safety, I feel unstoppable. Being around so many people rattles me to my core and it makes me freeze. I tend to run, but you knew that already.”

Namjoon nods, stepping beside you, “do you wanna go home?”

“I can’t leave them all in there. They’ll wonder where I’ve gone and I’ll make them feel like that day…” you trail off, turning to look at the entrance. You can already feel your phone buzzing in your pocket from calls and texts of your concerned friends who have noticed your disappearance. You probably have two minutes before they storm out in a pile on the sidewalk.

Namjoon looks down at his phone, and sure enough, his brother’s name lights up the screen.

“Your comfort and safety matter to me, to us, above everything else. They’ll understand. We can go home right now and nobody would be upset with you. That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?” What talent he has to hit the nail on the head, maybe his studying has paid off.

You nod, swallowing thickly as the familiar burn in your throat makes itself known. Namjoon takes a moment to text his brother back, assuring him that you’re safe but overwhelmed. He’ll be taking you home and despite Jungkook offering to leave with your friends in order to offer comfort, Namjoon insists it’s best not to overwhelm you. Jungkook gives in, promising to leave soon after.

“Come, Baby. Let’s get you home.” Namjoon reaches out his hand for you to take and you do so easily as he leads you to a taxi. He opens the door for you, waiting until you’re buckled in before he slides in after you.

Namjoon rattles off his address to the driver, and it’s not too long before he’s getting out, linking his hand with yours to lead you to the front door.

When he unlocks the door, he helps you out of your shoes, helping you to the kitchen, where he has you sip on a bottle of water. Under the bright fluorescent lights, he can see how red and puffy your eyes have gotten. His heart aches as he sees you, but he knows it’s what you're used to. He offers some painkillers for the aches and then sends you off to the bathroom.

When you join him, he’s set out a change of clothes for you. A pair of sweatpants from Jungkook and one of his sweaters. You thank him as you get back in the bathroom, running the shower to get the smell of smoke out of your hair, something you cannot stand.

“You can sleep on my bed,” Namjoon states when you walk back into his bedroom. You sit on his bed when he goes to shower.

He’s not surprised you haven’t moved an inch since he’s been gone. Namjoon decides to sit beside you anyway.

It takes you longer than you care to admit to finally speak. What is it about Namjoon that renders you speechless? Sure, you were still getting to know him and you had spent time alone with him but never to this degree. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means and you appreciate him sticking by your side when he could have easily dumped you off with Jimin and Taehyung or even Jungkook and Yoongi. The fact that he hadn’t, made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you offer him a small smile. He smiles in return, his dimples nearly make you swoon.

“No need to thank me, Baby. That’s what friends are for,” he says gently as he presses a kiss to your forehead. You flush over the feel of his soft lips on your skin.

You know there’s no convincing him of staying the night at your side, not wanting to cross any boundaries no matter how much you assure him you’re fine. He’s heard from Jungkook and his friends just how long it takes for you to get comfortable around newcomers and though he’s had small victories here and there, he knows better than to push his luck out of fear of making you uncomfortable.

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” You ask him meekly as you slowly pull the blanket over your body. Namjoon is grateful he’d done laundry that afternoon.

“Of course, Crybaby. I’d do anything for you,” Namjoon responds sincerely and he realizes how deep he’s in already… and yet, it doesn’t terrify him.

Under Namjoon’s watchful eye, you settle into his bed. He tucks you in, staying over the blanket so he can leave without rustling you. There are a few inches between you but Namjoon doesn’t mind, his fingers gently stroking your hair as you ask him for a childhood story about him and your best friend, looking for a distraction to clear your thoughts so you can get some sleep.

Namjoon is one to please, so he does as asked, listening to your breathy chuckles and sleepy giggles as he tells the story of how Jungkook lost his swim trunks going down a water slide ages ago.

You listen to Namjoon’s deep voice, following along with his story until you’re lulled to sleep, comforted by his voice and the scent of him that lingers on his sheets and the sweatshirt.

Namjoon stays until your breathing evens out, your eyes shut as you slip into dreamland. He strokes your cheek lightly, his knuckle barely grazing your skin.

Oh, what he wouldn’t do to ease your mind always, to give you the comfort you so greatly deserve. To kiss all your worries away and hold you when he can’t.

Oh, Crybaby, you don’t know what feelings you arouse in him.

<< previous // next >>

[rozcdust]

Blame it on me

Pairing: Hanma Shuji x f!reader (platonic)

Genre: Angst with cracky elements

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Canon divergent, ooc, profanity, drug abuse, drug overdose, needles, alcohol abuse, suggestive, reader is a terrible person

pt. 1 | previous | pt. 3 | next | playlist | original story

“You know, I met death once.”

Hanma and you were laying on the floor, eyes tired and barely open, scratching an itch that wasn’t there until your arms bled, words slurred and heavy.

You moved your head to look at him.

“Yeah? What was that like?”

He smiled softly, staring at the chipped paint on the ceiling.

“There were too many grams in the needle, I overdosed. She wore white.”

You looked back up as he licked his dry lips.

“She had flowers woven in her hair, and she was kind, but her fingers were freezing.”

You snorted.

“Sounds like you were tripping.”

“No one’s ever held me that softly.” He whispers, like a prayer, like a curse, wistfully staring into the ceiling, “She said she wishes we weren’t so fragile.”

You dragged your body closer to his, slumping on the floor next to him, curling up into his touch as he turned on his side, engulfing you in his warmth.

“Shi, what did you want to be when you were a kid?” You asked into the fabric of his hoodie, closing your eyes.

“I didn’t think about it.”

You hummed.

“Expected, you probably knew you’d amount to nothing. I wanted to be a lawyer.”

He held you tighter, letting you talk.

“I even studied hard for it, you know? Had all A’s in school.” You nuzzled your nose into his neck, breathing in the scent.

His heart ached.

You were rotting alive here.

But you were all he had.

“And then everyone left me, all my friends. Said I was too toxic or whatever the hell.” You scoffed, moving away to look him in the eye.

He glanced down at you, carefully analysing the tired expression, your lips bruised and buried from where you bit them until they bled and where the filter of your cigarettes divided from the paper, leaving burns, analysing the angry hickeys and bite marks covering your throat, as if someone wanted to put their teeth through it.

“You could still do it doll, you’re young.”

You shook your head, scratching at the bottom of your jaw until it was angry and bleeding.

He frowned, softly grabbing your wrist, clawing through his hazed mind to find the words.

“You could go anywhere, you could do anything. You have a life to live. Why do you insist on staying here?”

He hoped you’d say because you loved him as much as he loved you.

He hoped you’d say it was because he was your lifeline as much as he was yours.

He hoped you’d say it was because you wanted to.

“I don’t know, Shi.”

He felt his heart shatter.

“I mean, I don’t have a future Shi. Neither do you. Fuck, we’ll both be dead in a year. What does it matter?”

The furrow between his eyebrows smoothed over, his teeth gritting.

“We’re just junkies,” You laughed, humourless and bitter, “What the fuck do we matter to anyone?”

Hanma felt like someone cracked open his ribcage and plucked his heart out, crushing it until it was nothing but a piece of pale, mangled flesh.

You won’t die like this.

He won’t let you.

Not if it’s the last thing he does.

He held you softly, and promised himself he’ll get you out of here.

“You sure you don’t want to go with me?” You ask, opening your mouth to spill out the words carefully, eyes closed as Hanma drags the eyeliner wand across your eyelids.

“No, I’m visiting a friend today.”

You frowned, moving your head away to look at him.

“Friend? I didn’t know you even had anyone but me.”

Hanma laughed, leaning closer to finish your eyeliner.

“Close your eyes. And I don’t, he died a while ago. I’m going to visit his grave.”

“Oh. What will you even do there?”

Hanma capped back the eyeliner, giving you a confused look.

“Wash the grave, offer him a beer, talk to him for a little bit?”

You gave him an equally confused look back as he started blending the foundation on your face.

“Wash the grave?”

“Yes? It is a custom. Has no one taught you how to visit a grave?”

You shook your head.

“Never visited a grave before.”

Hanma whistled.

“Damn, your parents are shit. I’ll take you to visit Kisaki one day, you can’t not*** know graveyard customs.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, dad.“

He grinned.

“Don’t come home after midnight, young lady.”

“Oh, fuck you Shi.” You shook your head, softly punching his shoulder.

His face suddenly turned serious.

“Y/n, those friends you’re going out with… You’ve known them for what, a month?”

“Yep.”

“You like them?”

You quirk an eyebrow in question, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Are they good friends?” His eyebrows are furrowed as he applies powder to your face, carefully following your own natural bone structure.

“They are, better than you for sure. They’re nice. They don’t really like it when I drop by high out of my mind, but that’s to be expected.” You shrug, and when he says nothing, you choose to let him finish what he was doing.

“Your hair’s a fucking mess.” You frowned as you stood up, looking down on him, gently pulling on a bleached strand, “Wait here, I’ll put it in a braid for you.”

He shrugged as he nodded, lighting up a cigarette as you went to the bathroom, coming back with a hairbrush, and dragging a chair, you placed it behind his back.

Sitting down, you carefully tilt his head back, starting to brush his hair, careful to not pull on the tangles and knots.

It was peaceful like this, when the two of you just existed in each other’s company, the only noise the hum of the air vent and the hairbrush passing through his hair.

“You know, you’re my lifeline.” He hummed softly, letting you maneuver his head however you pleased as your fingers started to braid a simple French braid, “The only person I have.”

You said nothing, concentrated on your work, concentrated on his calm breathing and the sound of your own heartbeat, soft and steady in its path.

“I know.” You kissed his forehead as you tied off the braid, letting it fall down his back.

You look around the club, your mind gazed yet clear, broken yet taped back together, courtesy of that bright pink pill that went down your esophagus half an hour ago, and as you push past the bodies at the edge of the dance floor, you search for familiar eyes.

You spot them in one of the booths, accompanied by two men, holding each other. You frowned as you approached.

One of them looked too familiar for comfort.

Slipping next to Chifuyu, he offers you a quick hug as a greeting, grinning at you. You don’t respond when he asks you questions, too distracted by the two men now looking at you curiously.

“Y/n, this is Mitsuya and Hakkai.” Kazutora introduces as Chifuyu slumps into his seat, annoyed.

“Hi.” Mitsuya smiles, waving at you slightly.

Hakkai only shyly nods, hiding his face in Mitsuya’s neck.

You click your tongue, mildly annoyed at whatever the fuck he was doing, but Kazutora shoots you a warning look, motioning you to shut the fuck up.

Before you could retort back to his warning, a guy approaches the group, clearly nervous even through the frown on his face.

“Hey, Souya!” Baji greets him, grinning and waving, his cigarette tightly held between his teeth, “Long time no see!”

“Hi.” He replies shortly, through gritted teeth, before turning to you, fidgeting with his hands in his pockets.

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Uh, I wanted to ask you for a dance?” He asks, politely despite the pissed-off look on his face.

“Scram.” Was your short response as you lit up your cigarette, barely sparing him a glance.

He clearly wilted, nodding disheartedly , turning to return to the guy who looked exactly like him, but with a smile on his face instead.

Everyone at the table threw you a disapproving look, even Hakkai, and you only raised your hands in a defensive manner.

“That was fucking rude, Souya is a great guy.” Chifuyu huffed, lightly smacking your head.

“I don’t give a shit.” You turn to Hakkai, “You look familiar. Have I seen you before?”

He was frowning, nervously biting on his lip as your too wide pupils bore into his.

“Uh, maybe? I’m a model.” He managed to get out, receiving a pat on the back from Mitsuya in support.

You knew that wasn’t it.

There was something familiar in his face.

But you let it go for now.

Hanma stood in front of the restaurant, all too aware of how he looked with the dark circles under his eyes and skin more akin to a bleached skull than a breathing human, but none of that mattered, not when it came to you.

He needed to find Taiju.

🔖Taglist (open):

@1818cigarettes @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @emilywaters @m0rrax @levistiddies @bxnten @spookykoko @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @gigibobigi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @bontenacious @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @sh4nn @sisnot @r3pr0duce @adeptiixiao @siriuspisces @bubs-world @makimakimi @namisblkgf @aces-high @syddisheep @haikyuu-simps-assemble @wakasagurl @reapersimps @nana-phobia

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Patch Me Up

Pairing - Vampire!Diluc x Fem!Reader

Warnings - 18+ NSFW, Blood kink obviously, marking kink, biting kink, sharp teeth BARK BARK, fingering, semi public sex??? I mean you guys were in a different room but it was still in a public establishment lol,

Word Count - 1.9k

Other Comments - Bro this idea was just way way way too good to pass up shout out to the anon who requested this because you know what's up; you got some good ass taste. And yes this does have Twilight vibes, what about it.

Ask - VAMPIRE DILUC SMUT I FUCKING BEG YOU

Diluc was a very secluded man, always keeping up thick walls, borderline impossible to penetrate; but there was something about you. You enraptured him, always wearing a bright kind smile when you saw him. Most people found his stand off-ish personality jarring, to which they regarded him with side eyes and cold shoulders unless asking for alcohol.

He looked forward to when you would come into his tavern, it was easy to spark up conversation. You quickly became one of his regulars when you first came into the tavern a few months ago. At first he regarded you with the same cold yet professional tone he regarded most of his customers with; but when you weren’t put off by it and asked how his day had been he was surprised to say the least. After that it was always a high point of his day asking you how your adventures were.

Today was different. You strolled into the tavern at your usual time, but when that door opened a strong delicious scent washed over Diluc. It made his mouth water and his throat burn. When he looked up to see what was going on, to see the cause of his bodily reactions, he saw you limping in; bruises and cuts covering your exhausted body. This was bad. You smelled way too good.

Diluc’s hands became clammy under his gloves, and a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead. He wanted- no, needed, to taste you. To drink you. You smelled almost candy-like, similar to when all of the sweet flowers came to bloom; but better. Diluc’s fists curled into tight balls behind the counter as you approached. He wanted to tell you to leave, to stop walking towards him, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Were it anyone else and he would’ve quickly been able to shut down the issue by telling them to go see someone who could patch them up first, but this was you. There was something else too, something in the back of his mind. He was worried for you.

“Hey, how’s my favorite bartender doing?” Your voice was raspy, from what exactly Diluc didn’t know, but he wasn’t surprised from seeing your current state. Something in him warmed when you said that though.

“Uh, fine. More importantly, shouldn’t Barbara be patching you up? Why are you in my tavern bleeding on my floors.” Diluc tried to make his voice harsh, but it came out more sarcastic and joking. You chuckled in response to his statement.

“What, you can’t help me?” Diluc stiffened. You wanted him to help you? Why? He has shown no knowledge of medicine, let alone any real concern for you.

“I have no knowledge of medicine, why would you want me to patch you up?” Diluc was more than confused. There were so many other people you knew who were so much more capable of helping you. He was starting to get irritated, not particularly by you, but by your scent. It was driving him crazy and he was surprised he was able to keep his composure as well as he was right now.

“Listen you need to get help before you come in and drink (y/n). Not only are you obviously tired and hurt, you smell.” Shit. Shit you were gonna get suspicious of him and-

“No shit I smell! I’ve been sweating up a storm fighting things, Master Diluc.” Diluc was taken aback by your words, which seemed to be a running theme tonight. You just wouldn’t stop saying the oddest things.

“You’re not going to leave unless I help you, aren’t you?” You smiled victoriously as you shook your head ‘no’. Diluc sighed, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He just had to get through this, then everything would stop. All the saliva, the burning of his throat, the sweating, the desire for you.

It was only when Diluc retrieved a few bandages from the emergency kit he had prepared and he began bandaging up your various cuts, did he notice just how attractive you were. Diluc had removed his gloves, and your skin was so soft under his surprisingly delicate fingers. He wanted to make sure he didn’t cause any discomfort to you, so he treated you like a thin sheet of glass.

There was a softness to him that he didn’t think existed anymore. He didn’t think he was capable of being so gentle with someone. You somehow brought out the best in him, in just the short time you’ve known each other. He never thought he would be able to get so close to someone again. Fuck he really liked you.

“Diluc, you don’t have to be so gentle with me; clearly I can take a beating.” A chuckle rumbled deep in the man’s chest, his crimson eyes never leaving the injury he was dressing.

“Pardon me for wanting you to be comfortable.” You giggled, and it was the most melodic noise he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear you laugh more.

Despite the soft atmosphere, there was still something primal deep within Diluc. He could feel it grow with the more time he spent taking in your delicious scent. If Diluc could blush, he was sure his face would be deep red by now. He wanted to take you right here and now, in the cellar where he kept all his beverages that weren’t needed behind the counter. He delicately moved some of your hair out of your face so he could get to a small scrape on your left cheek. He saw a blush rise to the high points of your cheeks, which only egged on his desire for you. All he could do was stare deep into your eyes. You were breathtaking.

Within seconds both or your lips collided together in a heated kiss. It was fierce and heartfelt. His hands grabbed at your body for purchase, and vice versa. It had the both of you panting, with each intake of oxygen you sent wafted over him stronger than ever before; you were like an addictive perfume. Without thinking Diluc pulled away, staring at your flushed face.

“Let me taste you, fuck I need to mark you up. Make you mine.” You nodded your head feverishly. Diluc’s mouth attacked your neck within seconds of your response, and suddenly his teeth punctured your skin. You blood landed on his tongue and he was addicted. You were his new favourite drug. You tasted exactly like he’d imagine, sweet and light; something he’d never get enough of.

“D..Diluc what-” Before you could finish your sentence, Diluc’s mouth unlatched from your neck, some of your blood smudged at the corner of his mouth.

“Shit (y/n) I apologize, you just.. Fuck you taste so good. I mean you smell so sweet but you taste even better I couldn’t control myself.”

“Diluc, are you like a vampire or something?” You chuckled a little, voice still a little breathy. By the tone of your voice, Diluc knew you meant that as a joke but when he didn’t respond the look on your face changed. The silence weighed heavy on top of Diluc, borderline suffocating. Diluc couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Keep going.” Your voice was soft, just above a whisper, as you moved your head to expose your neck even more. Diluc’s gaze snapped back up immediately to yours, then down to your neck. Then his gaze drifted further down. He was hard.

He attacked your neck once more, getting taken away but how good you tasted. After a few moments, a small moan escaped your lips, so quiet that Diluc would’ve missed it were he not have been hyper aware of your breathing. Once again Diluc’s mouth left your neck, but this time his hands started to roam down towards your pants. He stopped just before unbuttoning them.

“Is… is this alright (y/n)?” You didn’t even respond verbally, just nodding enthusiastically before gripping onto his shoulders. Without anymore hesitation Diluc unbuttoned your pants and almost ripped them off of you. He quickly pinned up against the wall of the cellar, as he pulled your panties to the side and rubbed your clit. Your breath hitched in your throat, before a low moan escaped your lips.

Fueled on by your noise, Diluc retracted his hand from your clit and shoved two of his fingers into your already sopping cunt.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet already.” His fingers worked you open, as his dick strained against his uncomfortably tight slacks. He was becoming impatient, but he wanted to make sure you were nice and open so he didn’t hurt you. After a few more minutes of fingering, he could tell you were starting to become impatient as well.

“Diluc please, I need you. I need to feel you deep. Ah fuck Diluc please.” The strain in your voice when you said please shot straight to his dick, and who was he to refuse you? A dark smile graced his usually stoic features, and you shivered with anticipation. Diluc pulled his fingers out of you, before he licked his fingers clean. Everything about you was just so fucking delicious. Soon enough Diluc freed his hard cock from his pants. There was precum beading on the tip.

He picked you up, lifting you over his cock, before slowly lowering you down. Once you were finally sat right at the base of his dick, your back was once again pressed up against the wall, as he started to finally thrust in and out of you. It was slow for only a few moments, before he began a punishing pace. His hand had already gone to cover your mouth, muffling your loud moans. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to last long, you were so tight, but it seemed you were in a similar boat, as your walls constricted around him.

Your moans were growing in volume and pitch as you got closer and closer to the edge, and Diluc’s breathing was becoming labored, letting out low groans and growls. Before either of you knew it, both of you were cumming. Before you could finish, Diluc sunk his teeth into your neck one more time. He rocked both of you through your orgasms, before pulling away and setting you back down on the ground. He made sure to keep an arm around you though, just in case your legs decided to give out.

Slowly but surely both of you began to dress yourselves again; attempting to make yourselves presentable. After a few moments of silence, you spoke.

“So you’re a vampire. Do you have any cool powers?” You had a lopsided smile on your face, as Diluc chuckled and softly nudged your shoulder. You really were something else.