#Sunlight and Stardust moments

[wrathbites]

Gone are the nights of arguing over the bed, the sofa, the floor.

Gone are the mornings awkwardly keeping to opposite sides of a bed too small for the distance.

Rhys has long fallen silent, book forgotten at his fingertips, every minute awake a conscious effort and he makes it without complaint.  Does he feel similar, Kaidan wonders.  Does he look at the time they’ve lost to the war and think it far too much?  Does he think every second counts now?

Kaidan rolls as one of the Bastard Trio might, slow and stretching from fingers to toes.  Sun-warm and sleepy, perfect for dozing, but not yet.  Not just yet.  He reaches past the boundary between light and shade to Rhys just beyond, smiling when a grey eye blinks open to investigate his movement.

Kaidan lays his hand on the cheek not smushed on folded arms, sharing the sun with his vampire the only way he can, earning a soft chuckle for the gesture, a shake through Rhys’ body that disturbs the ginger furball sprawled over his shoulders.

"You are my sunshine,” Rhys says in a low rumble, and Kaidan laughs, taking a handful of hair and giving a light tug.

“Please do steal my sunshine away.”

[byhees]

pretty, lipstick stains.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 600 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship — more

a/n. blank

heeseung

longing kisses that encapsulate his want to stay close to you; as though calling you to be next to him for a few more moments, as though pulling you into an intangible hug.

him being reluctant to let you go in the early mornings, fingers lightly tugging on your hand when you get up from bed.

would lightly pull you into his embrace, arms wrapping around you; cheek still smooshed against the pillow, eyes still fluttering open, he’d plant a soft peck on your jaw and whisper for you to stay in bed a little longer.

jongseong

kisses that pepper your face, as though to say the words “i miss you”; they’re quick and sweet, like a gesture straight from a romance movie.

him picking you up and twirling you in the air, heart pounding from how much he’s been waiting for this moment.

unknowingly smiling into the kiss, a natural reaction elicited from the soaring of little butterflies in his stomach; hand holding and occasional cheek kisses because he’s missed this far too much.

jaeyun

lazy kisses in the middle of the evening, whilst snuggled up under the covers; his eyes would glimmer with a sheen of admiration, a twinkle like stardust.

finger lightly trailing the lines of your jaw, and slowly moving to caress your cheek, fingertips brushing skin on touch.

pressing a soft kiss on your lips, and watching in adoration as you do the same, small grin growing tenfold.

sunghoon

morning kisses to start off the day; he’d still be squinting, eyes adjusting to the streak of sunlight shimmering on your faces.

gaze is held at your lips, before flickering to meet your eyes. he’d shift closer to you, and leave a small kiss on your forehead, the words “morning, beautiful,” being murmured in the essence of sleepiness.

would softly ask for a kiss in return, index finger pointing at his cheek, a half awake smile greeting you prettily.

seonwoo

soft kisses that are so comforting and loving; trailing tender kisses all over your lips, hand absentmindedly intertwining with yours.

eyes that caress every contour of your face, as if memorising every feature, every curve and every nuance that makes you uniquely you.

would kiss the corners of your lips, and watch as you scrunch your nose in response, finding it endearing beyond words.

jungwon

frail kisses that start on your collarbone, and slowly trail to your neck, and your lips; with each soft press, he traces a path towards your lips, like a constellation in the night skies.

giggles that fall under breaths, and eyes that curve into miniature crescent moons; engulfing one another in tight hugs, your face nuzzled in his chest.

would mumble the most beautiful words about how he loves you, how pretty you are, how he’d want this to last forever— to be etched in memory for a lifetime.

riki

shy kisses, where he’s pulled close to you; leaves a quick peck on your lips, and buries his reddened face in the crook of your neck.

eyes momentarily locking in a gaze that spoke of the unified symphony of thumping hearts; him looking away a mere few seconds later to conceal the radiant grin playing on his lips, sweet bashfulness blossoming across his chest.

wrapping his hands around your waist, and stealing another peck on your lips; the magical feeling in his heart is something he’d never forget.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #24] Resolutions

warnings: hangovers, showers, fingering, a little verbal degradation, a lot of praise too!!, unprotected sex, mentions of the word daddy lmao, she's bratty!!, mentions of jimin mid-shag, THE bd jk line imo (my dick is in your cunt, not your mouth. answer me.), pretty kisses <33, he finishes in her mouth yum, b feeling a little guilty :(, some much needed honesty between our starluvrs!, the notebook!!, sticky notes, danbi + tae

wc: 15k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Fuck my life," you mumble into a pillow that you know well, but also know isn't your own. Doesn't smell like your fabric softener, and so even though your eyes are firmly shut, you're very aware you're not in your own bed.

You're also warm. Like, heat of a thousand suns, midnight fireworks misfiring and landing right at your feet, kinda warm.

You adjust slightly to ease the duvet off your lower half - but there's an arm looped over your side. It keeps you close. Keeps you warm. Keeps you from getting out of bed. You can't see it, but as your hand rests on it, you know exactly who it belongs to; tattooed and toned in such a way that makes you feel all funny when you remember gripping onto it the night before.

And so you let yourself indulge in the luxury of closed eyes and dreamy thoughts, until sleep steals you away again.

There's a stellar serenity to the not-quite-silence of Jeongguk's room in the mornings that follow Dionysus nights.

He gets moany as he wakes; little huffs and puffs of discomfort as he wiggles around, trying to find the most comfortable position. His aim is always to go back to sleep, so that doesn't have to feel his headaches.

It's a little before midday when Jeongguk finds himself resisting the urge to fall back asleep. He's been laying on his front, like he so often does, one arm beneath his pillow, the other outstretched, resting over your hip.

As he turns his head and nestles his chin into his shoulder, he's greeted by your back; skin bare, wabi-sabi glitter ever-present. How it even manages to be trailing down your spine, he has no idea. Thinks you must be made of stardust, or something like that. Wonders if maybe he was an astronaut in a past life.

Jeongguk adjusts. Keeps his arm hooked over your waist but hugs his chest to your spine. He's just as naked as you are, and his hangover is gonna fuckin' kill him, but he wants to be close to another person. Always eases the pain a little.

As you stir, disturbed by Jeongguk's movements, you mumble something incoherent into his sheets.

"Mhmm?" He hums, eyes shut, not caring to accept the fact he really shouldn't be in bed with you in such a way - but it's his bed.

You mumble again; not really making any words, or forming any sentences. More so just expressing your awareness of it being morning.

"I wish you would close your curtains," you groan, sunlight intruding through your eyelids.

"You've got legs," he hums, voice just as sleepy as yours. "Do it yourself."

You've also got a boy holding onto you for dear life, and a warmth between your bodies that you don't really want to lose.

It's worrying, you think, how much Jeongguk is able to remedy your woes. It just comes with the territory. He's your friend ; expectations are minimal. It's only natural that being around him like this doesn't hold the same weight as it would do with any other boy.

Mentally, you don't love the fact you stayed the night. Makes you feel guilty; like there's someone playing your heartstrings like a harp, but they're painfully out of tune. It's not a nice sound, even though you know it should be.

And yet as Jeongguk holds you a little closer - tighter - it's almost like he's twisting the harp pegs. Making it sound good, even if just for a moment. You'd like to listen to the sound a little while longer.

"They're your curtains," you huff into his sheets. "You do it."

"You're closer to the window," he mumbles into your neck, and the feeling of his lips against your skin gets you remembering the night before; how they'd left trails of desire up your thighs, whispered oh-so-friendly greetings against places that no friend should ever be so well acquainted with, and the home they'd found as they sank between yours. Fuck .

It's not the only reminder. You're not sure if it's the hangover, the fact you're naked, or if Jeongguk is thinking about the night before, too, but there is one thing you're sure of: Jeon Jeongguk is hard.

Part of you feels like you shouldn't mention it. He's the one living inside his body. He'll be aware of it.

And he is. He just doesn't really care. Nothing you haven't felt before, thinks.

Admittedly, it's never been without purpose. Or at least, without excuse. Last night, you'd both been wasted. He wouldn't say he's entirely sober now, and he probably shouldn't drive for a good few hours, but he can't chalk a bad decision up to inebriation, now.

When you groan, still being a belligerent little fucker about his curtains, he laughs.

"Lay on your front," he says. "S'how I block it out."

"Can't," you say, without even caring to try. "Tits."

Jeongguk chirps in surprise. "Tits? You've got tits? Don't think that's true. I've never noticed them."

It would almost be believable if his fingers weren't within touching distance. You encourage them upwards, and let them cup you softly.

The very tips of his fingers lightly ghost over your soft skin, until his touches become more deliberate. Become firmer. Intentional. He's still gentle as he squeezes them, hands warm, smile present.

"Huh," he hums in complete satisfaction, getting exactly what he was after. Just wanted to hold them. "Maybe you do have tits."

"Maybe?" you question, tone dry, a smile on your lips that he cannot see. He knows it's there, though. Knows you enjoy that stupidity of dumb flirting like this. Your fingers squeeze down over his, encouraging him to get a real handful.

The way his body moves behind you, ever so slightly, his hips pushing a little further against your ass, has you wanting to cut the bullshit. There's only one way you want this to end up - and given Jeongguk's tendency to fear death every time he's even remotely horny, you're almost certain he wants it, too.

"Maybe," he grins against your neck, then whispers. "Still an ass guy, though."

"Hmm?" You question his sheer audacity. "Then why aren't your hands on my ass?"

"They can be," he assures you. "Just wasn't sure I was allowed."

You shrug a little letting your back relax into his embrace. "Do what you like."

"Nah, B, that's not how this works," he smiles, lips grazing the top of your spine. "You know that's not how this works."

"How does it work then?"

"You tell me what you want. You ask for it."

"Or," you simper, turning onto your front. His grip eases, showing that you really do have all the control - but you don't want it. You want him to want you. Crave you. You raise your hips, back arching ever so slightly. "You can try and convince me you really are an ass guy."

He laughs. Does squeeze your ass, but also says, "you don't want that."

You lift your ass a little higher. He squeezes again. Groans. Thinks you'll be the death of him. "No?"

"Is it on the birds?"

You pause for a moment.

"Exactly," he says. Why he's choosing to show restraint, he's unsure. He'd eat your ass at the drop of a hat, if you explicitly asked him to - but you don't, so he won't.

In his heart of hearts, he knows exactly why he's showing restraint.

The second it starts becoming about him, and his pleasures, his desires, that's when the game changes. He knows that you were verging on dangerous territory last night. Remembers calling you baby. Remembers how instead of telling him off, you'd fucking kissed him. Remembers your lips, and how it felt to have his tongue in your mouth, and fuck . Even thinking about it gets him a little too twitchy.

"What if what I want isn't on the birds?" you say quietly.

Jeongguk smiles. Shakes his head, hair tangling on his pillow. Gives you one final squeeze and a tiny open-palmed spank before he pulls himself away from you. "Then you should have been wiser with your birds."

You know he's grinning like a smug little prick, and as much as you want to be annoyed with him, you're too hungover. Can't be wasting energy like that.

From your snug little cocoon, you can hear the faint movements of Jeongguk making himself look presentable. He pulls on a pair of boxers and tosses a shirt over his bedhead, not really caring much for appearances - though all of his monochromatic wardrobe tends to match.

He pays the semi in the front of his boxers no notice, adjusting himself so his cock lays up flat against his lower belly, not favouring an uncomfortable tenting. In all honesty, he'd much rather be naked. Would die for a blowjob.

But he's trying to be good to repent for his bad decisions from the night before.

Opening just one of your eyes as Jeongguk meanders over to the curtains, you watch on as he pulls them shut without even so much as saying a word. As much as he likes to bicker with you, he also prefers it when you're comfortable. Thinks that closing the curtains is the least he can do. Knows his head feels like it's caving in, so imagines yours is, too.

"Thank you," you whisper, a serene smile settling on your lips.

He pulls off the shirt he's worn for all of a minute just because he doesn't like the way the fabric feels around the base of his neck. Infinitely more irritable when he's hungover, Jeongguk just wants to feel comfy; wants the lemmings in his head to stop drilling away his skull. His mouth is so dry he may as well have slept with cotton wool on his tongue.

Just more of the many downfalls that come with taking things a little too far in the sanctuary of Dionysus. Both of you had been drinking to forget the messes made in the year previous. Didn't really work. If anything, it just ensured you started this year on a messy note, too.

You miss the weight of his body beside you as he tells you he's gonna grab some water - but doesn't bother to ask if you want any. He'll just get you some regardless. Knows you'll need it. No matter how much water he forces into your hands throughout the night, you never stay hydrated enough.

Stumbling a little over his feet and the clothes discarded on his bedroom floor from the night before, Jeongguk doesn't bother to look down and check if they belong to you or him. Knows that his bedroom floor really shouldn't have your clothes strewn all over it, yet you seem to have stormed in like a hurricane, disrupting every sense of peace he's ever known. For some reason that he can't quite work out, you spared him from the eye of your storm. Have never shown him anything but kindness.

And so he'll take misplaced garments and the stain of a little glitter in exchange for such a harmonious life.

As he makes his way into the sitting room in just his boxers, Jeongguk ruffles his hair, a yawn escaping his pretty lips, the small silver ring moving ever so gently. He's every bit the image of reckless youth, just with a little bit of boy next door energy to remedy the woes of every girl he's ever dated.

He spots his phone on the floor by the kitchen island, next to a couple of take-out kebab boxes from the night before. Making no effort to check it, Jeongguk walks right on by - not only because he fears what leaning over will do to his very fragile, very hungover head, but also because he doesn't want to have to deal with the fall out of the night before.

He will speak with Jiyeong, just not yet. Not while he feels so delicate.

Grabbing a pint glass from the drying rack, Jeongguk taps the sink into motion, water funnelling out at such a speed it makes him feel a little queasy. He mutters out a curse - and then almost shits himself when a voice mumbles from the living room.

"Shuuush," Jimin drawls. "Sleeping."

Sprawled out across the sofa like a stretching kitten, Jimin looks just as bad as Jeongguk feels - if not, worse . His bare feet rest over the armrest, body face down, head pressed into a pillow.

"Christ," Jeongguk mutters. "Why aren't you in your room?"

"Needed water," Jimin says, as if that explains why he didn't just go back to bed after he'd gotten some - but he did. Just ended up spilling it all over his bed.

Jeongguk isn't the only member of the household who'd drunkenly strewn his clothes all over the floor the night before, and Jimin is paying the price for being so careless, now.

Had fallen asleep in it regardless, but woke up a little while later and was unsure if it was spilt water, or if he'd pissed himself, so had just chosen to migrate to the sofa instead.

"Byeol's still here," Jeongguk says quietly, almost as if he doesn't want Jimin to know.

Truthfully, he sort of doesn't want him to know. Doesn't wanna have to deal with the questions, and the assumptions, and the accusations. He knows that Jimin will jump to conclusions like a five year old on a sugar high in a trampoline park.

"Gonna have to start charging her rent, soon," Jimin just mumbles into the couch. He's too bleary to align his thoughts properly.

If he wasn't so hungover, he might be considering the implications of such a confession from Jeongguk.

See, he worries about Jeongguk - and while he's so happy that it feels the old Jeongguk is returning, it does concern him that he's retracing paths he's already walked. Isn't too sure how things with Hayun began, but knows all too well how it ended.

He fears that history is repeating itself.

It's a concern for another day, though. Not for right now.

And so Jeongguk returns to his room without an interrogation, and sinks back into bed with you. He makes no effort to snuggle in closer, and nor do you, because that's not what this is about. You're a comfort to one another, but are both aware the conventions of a relationship should not be shared between you both.

But then Jeongguk's brain starts doing pretty little pirouettes, and he's thinking about what-if scenarios, and knows that he needs to get out from underneath his duvet.

Kinda gets it now. Gets why you never stay the night. Wonders if maybe it's something that he's affected by, too, and just had never realised.

Jeongguk only ever fucks girls he dating, so it's never been something he's questioned before. With Hayun, he was already head over heels, so it made no real difference. If he fell harder? Faster? So be it.

It's different with you. He's scared he'll fuck things up. You've got a good thing going. Too good to jeopardise.

As he gets up, he moves the water from the table on his side, to the table by yours. Tosses down a sheet of paracetamol tablets, too. The stack of books on his side table hasn't been touched since your first foray into his personal space - not because he doesn't want to read them, but because he simply hasn't had the time.

With work, and Jiyeong, and uni, it feels like he's not really had a moment to breathe. His brain has been in overdrive for weeks now, and he's only just realising it.

Stirring a little, you're thankful to have water close by, even if Jeongguk isn't.

He sits at his desk, back a little curved, slouched into a comfortable position. You don't tell him, but he's got a little tuft of hair sticking up like a daisy sprouting from an overgrown lawn. It moves as he does, delicately shaking as he jots down notes onto some paper. It's been a little while since you last saw him do university work, but there's something so incredibly endearing about it.

He's already downloaded the majority of his notes from his iPad to his desktop, so spins in his chair to toss it down on the bed for you when he hears you sitting up. It lands with a soft thud, unlocked and on his landing page.

"Here," he says. "You can watch youtube or something. I don't mind the background noise."

Turning back before you even have a chance to respond, Jeongguk gets his head down straight away. Ignores the way you looked, glittery shoulders bare, duvet tucked beneath your arms.

He's making notes on an assignment that was due a couple of days ago, winter break seemingly counting for nothing. It really won't take long - just peer reviewing some work - but the less time he has to think about it, the better.

Come February, he'll be done with his studies. It's been years in the making at this point, part-time studying putting him behind his friends when it came to life-progressing achievements. The sooner he has his bachelor's, the sooner it will feel like he's actually accomplished something. There are stairs that Jeongguk wishes to climb, and he's been stuck on this one for what feels like eternity.

You study him for a moment; watch the way his jaw tenses as he muses over the work in front of him, nibbling down on his bottom lip. His lip ring does the thing . There's a hardness to his face. Determination, maybe.

Part of you thinks you should just leave him be, but something feels a little off. He'd woken up holding you and now he doesn't even seem to want to look at you - and that's when the realisation hits .

You're holding him to the standard of someone he isn't. Jeongguk isn't a romantic partner. He's no different to Jimin, or the girl who took you back to her place a couple of months back, or the guy who decided he could only get off if you were bent in the strangest of ways after a few too many drinks at Dionysus. He's someone you fuck.

But he's also your friend.

You suppose Jimin is too, but you've always managed to avoid sleeping in his room.

This is why sharing a bed was so high up on your list of fears; you don't know how to separate intimacy from it. It scares you. The way you're feeling? The horrible pangs of discomfort in your tummy? The anxiety that's consuming you? It's exactly why you don't share beds.

The shirt Jeongguk had been wearing is crumpled at the end of the bed, so you reach down for it. Think that cover is needed. Being naked feels far too vulnerable.

Pulling it over your head, you stand, letting the fabric tumble down your body. His shirts are always big, 'cause he always gets them as large as he possibly can. Just a Ggukism you've grown fond of. One of the many.

You drink as much water as you can, and chug down the paracetamol, half considering a double dose just to rid you of your throbbing head pain. Showers always help, and so does cleaning your teeth for some reason. It's a placebo, you think, as if you're telling yourself you're washing away harmful toxins from your body. Whatever the actual science is doesn't matter. It works. That's all you care about.

When you stand beside him and squeeze his shoulder gently, he turns his head and lets his chin rest on the tops of your fingers. Despite the low lighting, Jeongguk can see glitter all over your skin. The reflections scatter light all around his room, just like a Disco Ball should.

"Morning," he says quietly. "Not fancy watching anything?"

With a shake of your head, you smile. "My head's killing me."

It's the kind of hangover that has you wishing alcohol had never been invented, or at least has you certain you'll never drink vodka again. But you will. Of course, you will. Especially if you keep meeting bartenders that look like Jeongguk.

"Sorry," he offers, as if it's his fault you kept ordering drinks. "I'm a little too good at my job, apparently. Jimin's like Snorlax on the sofa right now."

"In the living room?" You whine.

"Problem?" Jeongguk smiles.

"Wanted to go brush my teeth, sort myself out," you sigh with a bratty little pout.

"He knows you're here," Jeongguk says. Is glad that he's able to do something right every now and again. At least this way you won't have to sneak around. "Will probably be asleep, anyways. He looked worse than both of us."

"Really?" You laugh, finding it hard to believe. Normally you can handle your hangovers pretty well, but it's killing you today.

"Really," he nods, not lifting his chin from his shoulder. "Go, get yourself freshened up. We can order food if you want? I'd kill for jajjangmyeon right now."

"Ugh," you moan, stomach rumbling at the mere thought of food. There's nothing you want more. "This is why we're friends."

"No, we're friends because you like free drinks," he teases, before turning back to his work. "Go. This will only take me ten minutes or so. You can grab a shower if you want - my towel is where it usually is."

"Star," you beam at him. It's a compliment he thinks is far more befitting of you - but he also doesn't realise there's just as much glitter on him as there is on you right now. "Thank you."

Jeongguk just smiles. Looks a little bashful, in that sweet unassuming way he so often does. A little physical separation will be good, you think. Will stop you from overthinking things.

And so you're not sure exactly what possesses you as you grab his towel from the shelf next to his clothes rail, and say, "still counts as revision, by the way. Of the birds, I mean."

"Hmm?" Jeongguk glances back up, eyes wide and doe-like, as if he misheard you. He didn't. Heard you loud and clear. Just wants to be certain he knows what you're talking about. Assumptions don't fare well in situations like these.

You just shrug. Indifference is something you feign far too often to be able to pull it off, anymore. Jeongguk knows your tells. Knows you so well it's ridiculous. Just gets you. Probably is why it's so easy for him to get you all hot and bothered, like you are now. You're the one who decided to wind him up. It should be him that feels flustered.

But how can you not when he looks at you like that ?

His eyes darken a little. Narrow. Look smokey, as he smirks. Lets his tongue toy with his lip ring, before he shakes his head, ridding it of the clusterfuck that comes with how badly he wants you. He can't give in. Not again.

"Go get your shower, trouble."

Oh, how you wish he wouldn't call you trouble.

Funny. He wishes that you wouldn't be trouble. It makes it so hard to resist you.

As you make your way through the sitting room, you're mindful of not waking Jimin up. He's face down on the sofa, snoring lightly, just like Jeongguk said he would be, so you think you'll be safe. Doubt even the sound of the shower starting will wake him up.

You're so familiar with Jeongguk's apartment by now that you know how to angle the bathroom door so it makes no noise when the latch closes shut. You don't lock it, though. Are very deliberate with that.

After all, you really wouldn't mind revising.

Teeth brushed, clothes off, shower on. It's a simple little routine that takes no more than five minutes. Jeongguk will be halfway done with the work he was doing.

You wonder if he's thinking about you.

Thinking about all the times he's been with you in his bathroom. Thinking about how dirty you like to get in the place where you should be getting clean.

The anticipation has you insatiable. Has you thinking of all sorts of outcomes. There's only one definite in these scenarios: Jeongguk joining you. None of this will be fun without him.

You watch the door with bated breath. Are worried that Jimin will wake up needing the bathroom, and not realise the shower is going, and that this whole little stunt will backfire splendidly.

And so you decided to actually make it look like you are just showering.

You turn your back to the door - because it feels far less brazen - and begin to work water through your hair. The water pitter-patters around you, and is so loud that it almost drowns out the click of the door opening.

Almost .

You make no change to what you're doing. If it was Jimin he would have freaked out the second he realised. Instead, you hear the sink tap go, and thank the lord the pipes aren't connected to the shower, so it remains a steady temperature.

Jeongguk tries not to look at you. Stares at himself as he brushes his teeth in the mirror, rinsing away the taste of last night's poison. It's not even been twelve hours since he last showered with you; and yet this one feels entirely different.

Feels like you're hitting a reset button.

You're both aware that this is needed; that you need to fuck within the perimeters of the agreement. Need to separate the intimacy from the acts. That's what this is. That's how he justifies the intense need he has to fuck you. He has to fix what he thinks he could have broken.

Jeongguk gives himself one final look in the mirror. Tries to understand what he's feeling, or what he actually wants, but he's not sure. He just knows that he doesn't want to lose whatever the fuck it is he has with you; your friendship or the sex. Fears that if he lets the uncertainty simmer in his sternum that he'll make the same mistakes that he did with Hayun.

Pushing a hand through his hair, Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. You don't hear it. Just continue staring at the rivulets racing down the tiles. Wonder why he's taking so long.

It's been just over a month of a temporary pause on the birds. Not much time at all. It really isn't as much of a huge deal as you're both telling yourselves it is - but of course you are.

It's a hamartia you share; shouldering the weight of relationships that have been put down by other people.

You just don't realise you're playing tug of war, now, each wanting to take the 'blame' for things going wrong - when they haven't even gone wrong, yet. It's so dumb. So painfully, tragically, idiotic.

Neither of you have really been thinking with much logic since Jeongguk kissed you through your orgasm and you through his. It's like you stole each other's oxygen, and your brains are paying the price, now.

He's quiet as he joins you in the shower, the tips of his fingers on your hips to scoot you a little out of his way.

You don't speak. He faces away from you. Grabs the shampoo, and holds it over his shoulder for you. Part of you feels like he should be the one to crack and talk first.

He joined you.

But you invited him in.

He locked the door behind himself and confined you both to the trap laid by you .

Both as bad as one another; and so of course as you start to talk, so does he. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Jeongguk laughs. Decides to not let you go first. If this is gonna be just about sex, then he's gonna take on the role that so often falls upon him in times like these.

Turning so that his chest is to your back, Jeongguk lets his hands grip your waist just above the curve of your hip. His hands are strong, but his grip is gentle. Soothing. His touch, to a degree, confirms that he wants this; wants things to be how they were.

"What are we revising, B?" he says quietly; cautiously. He doesn't think you should be too loud. Had to walk past a sleeping Jimin in order to reach the bathroom. Doesn't want to risk waking him.

His deft palms stroke up your sides, warm and welcoming.

And as you raise to your tippy toes? Lean forward? Rest your forearms against the tiles, back arched for him? Ass so close to his cock that it takes everything in himself not to just line himself up and sink into you?

It's all so fucking obvious.

His palms squeeze . Pull you closer.

"You're the academic genius," you smile. Jeongguk loves the way he can always hear it in your tone. "You tell me."

"So much ground to cover. Exam season's coming up," he muses quietly, a hand on your ass, the other stroking up and down your back. It really is gonna be exam season by the end of the month. He's not lying. The hand that had been tenderly cossetting your spine follows the curve of your body, until he's got your ass in either hand.

His constant reminders of how much of an ass guy he is repeat in your head. You wonder what this is doing for him; if it gets him harder than when he worships your tits.

The pads of his fingers sink into your firm flesh, manipulating your ass to move just how he wants it to. You roll your eyes, a smile firmly in place, and sigh. It's soft and melodic to Jeongguk's ears, so he smiles, too.

"Important part of exam prep," he tells you. "Need to make sure you cover all the bases."

He doesn't get this view of you all too often. Loves your pussy, but Christ . He is an ass guy. Thinks he'll die if you don't let him eat it at least once (though he's almost positive that once would be enough to convert you, too).

"My ass isn't on the birds," you remind him as his thumb strokes over the tight muscle of yours that he's yet to experience. Applies a little pressure. Makes you gasp. Doesn't go any further. Knows better. You only start breathing again when he pulls it away - and bizarrely enough, you find yourself a little bit disappointed . He corrupts your sense of desire, just like you corrupted his.

"You're right," he acknowledges. "So tell me what is, B. Tell me what we've gotta revise."

You're smug as you let your body lean a little further into the wall, ass still in his grip. The water continues to cascade down, but the shower head is angled away; hitting the glass door and drowning out the sound of your conversation.

A little less trusting of the sound levels than Jeongguk is, you remind him of his housemate.

"Jimin's only in the next room," you say quietly.

"So?" Jeongguk says, still caressing the cheeks of your ass. You can feel his cock resting between them. "Let him hear."

Jeon Jeongguk is trouble wrapped in a silky bow, you decide. Is going to hell, and will drag you right down with him.

And yet as he holds his solid cock by the base and runs it between your folds, you find yourself very willing to be taken along with him. Wet and ready, you know it must feel good for him, 'cause it feels fucking divine for you.

"Also," he adds, sinking his middle finger into your warm hole instead of his cock. There's sin laced into his words, a sultry smile on his lips. "Don't talk about Jimin when I'm touching your pussy. It's rude."

The way you whine is enough to let him know that you understand the message loud and clear, but Jeongguk doesn't think it's good enough. Sinks a second finger into your cunt. A third.

"Who are you gonna talk about? Huh? While I'm fucking your cunt with my hand, who are you gonna talk about?"

Oh .

"Jimin?" You tease, knowing that it will just make him pump his thick fingers into you even faster - and he does. Oh, it's heaven . So fucking good . The sounds your pussy makes for him are unchaste; lewd. Jeongguk thinks you sound better than anything he's ever heard before. Hates that the shower is muting you.

"It's like you want me to fuck you so hard you can't talk at all," He rasps, his spare hand gripping the back of your neck, impatient and needy for you to comply.

He needs the green light for him to fuck himself into you. Doesn't care for anything else.

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe isn't good enough."

"Fine," you relent, ignoring the fact shower sex isn't technically a bird - but it is what you want. "Fuck me."

"Yeah?" He mewls. Scissors his fingers inside you. Gets you all whimpery.

"Yeah," you beg, which suits him just fine. He wants you like this. Wants you needy.

"I'm gonna be mean," he tells you gently, as he pulls his fingers out of you, knowing that he needs to be far less romantic than he was the night before. Absolutely cannot call you 'baby' again. His hands roam up your soaked body, the hand that had been on your neck now stroking your wet hair through his fingers. You nod, but he repeats it, 'cause he needs to know you know. "I'm gonna be mean, B. Not as mean as I can be, but meaner than you've had me. Okay? What's the word?"

"Chess," you simply say, voice serene and so blissfully unaware of what's in store for you.

He presses a kiss against the top of your spine. Reaches up to cup your boobs. Lets his thumb swipe across your hard nipples. Smiles when you get a little moany. Kisses down on the nape of your neck when your hands come to join his, encouraging his grip on your chest.

"Chess," he repeats. "Second I say something you don't like, you say it, okay?"

You're so intrigued. Mild-mannered, a friend to all, charming as they come is Jeongguk. Mean doesn't seem like it's a part of his vocabulary. He's always so gentle with you - but he does have a silver tongue. Normally when he gets too horny for his own good, he forgets his filter and just says what comes to mind. You always like that part.

Often, he doesn't realise he's doing it; but he's trying to be controlled today. Restraining himself, even if it seems like maybe he isn't. This way, he'll be on top of his thoughts. Won't let things get too far.

Jeongguk isn't sure that what he considers 'mean' aligns with what you consider to be mean. Knows you've got a bratty side, but doesn't really know the dynamics of any of your past partners. Doesn't really think it's his place to ask.

You turn to look over your shoulder, and are greeted with the most earnest eyes you've ever seen in your whole damn life.

"Mean words?" you check.

He nods. "Just as many nice ones, though."

"And no mean hands?"

There's a change in your voice when you ask that. A drop in your eyes. Jeongguk isn't sure what to make of it. Squeezes your waist. Presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Never mean hands."

Facing away again, you smile. An ex was a little too rough with you without checking your limits before, and so you always like to make sure. Jeongguk has never given you those vibes, but you're also aware that this? Right now? This is all about sex. This isn't about who you are as people.

"Give me your worst, Starfucker."

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. Tries not to smile. He likes it when you call him that. Makes his tummy feel all discombobulated. Starfucker by name, star fucker by nature.

He doesn't let you know how much he likes it. Just shakes his head. Lines himself up.

You gasp into the steam-filled air as the tip of his cock pushes between the meeting of your puffy, wet, lips. He's slow . God, it makes you want him even more.

A hand on your waist while the other grips your ass, Jeongguk's strength keeps you in place. His fingers are tight against your skin and the sensation is overwhelming, as if his fingers are matchsticks and your skin is the paper they strike against.

The lack of prolonged warm-up makes you a little tighter than he's experienced before; the position of your closed legs only adding to this.

Jeongguk groans as he pushes into you. The feeling burns in the most pleasurable of ways; your pussy willing and wanting to accommodate his size.

You reach behind to let your nails dig into his ass. Encourage him to push further into you as you try and hide a laboured whine, but he's too big to pretend like he doesn't exist.

"Hmm?" Jeongguk hums quietly, a smile on his face despite the furrowing of his brows. It's a miracle you can't see him in this moment, because it's the kind of face you know you'd quite like to fall in love with. "You good, there, B?"

You nod. Laugh so gently Jeongguk thinks you really must have fallen from the heavens above. Adjusting your body, you sink back further onto him, letting him penetrate you even deeper.

There's a strain to your voice, as if you're trying to hide a moan, as you rasp, "Yeah. Just getting comfy. You?"

Your hips roll back against him. He grips your ass a little harder.

He can't decide if he wants to lean forward and keep your back pressed to his chest, or if he wants to watch the way you bounce your ass against him. Wishes he could have both. "Yeah. Grand. Really good, actually."

He's putting in minimal effort, more so controlling the pace of your hips as you work yourself up and down his shaft. The movements are small; controlled. They're soft, and simple. Uncomplicated.

Jeongguk loses himself in the way it feels to be inside of you. His hips begin to pick up the slack. The stable momentum is welcome by you, but he's not really aware he's doing it. Just letting his body do what feels right. Is too busy thinking about how much he wants to kiss you.

Always the same fuckin' thing.

"God, B," he whines instead, as a way to distract his mouth.

He wants to hear the way you sound in his mouth, feel the vibration of your lips against his, but he knows last night was a one-off. He won't try for it again.

Sure, it makes him think he might die, but it was one of your firm boundaries that you only relented on when you were drunk. Likely a bad decision in your eyes, he doesn't wanna put you in any uncomfortable positions.

Or at least that's how his brain portrays it to himself.

Totally isn't because of that pesky fear of rejection he likes to blame everything on making an appearance. He's never been scared of you. Never feared rejection from you. And yet he's holding back.

So he makes up for it in other ways.

Hips fervent, Jeongguk doesn't care much for anything except the way you feel wrapped around him, and the little hums of pleasure that are leaking from your lips.

Jeongguk also doesn't care for niceties. Has you within his grasp, and never wants to lose it. Wants sink his teeth into your neck and poison you with immortality; make sure you're forever tied to him.

Said he'd be mean. Thinks he should deliver on it.

"Shit," he husks, hips slapping up against your ass. The sound of wet spanks echo into the room. "You've been so desperate for my cock, haven't you? Desperate and needy, just waiting for me to fuck you again."

"Gguk-"

"No," he grunts into your ear, as he pushes you further up against the wall. The arch in your back deeps; his grip on your ass does just the same. "Address me properly."

Properly . Are you supposed to know how?

Jeongguk doesn't even know how he wants you to address him. Just knows when you say the right thing, he'll know it's the one.

" Daddy ?" You question, 'cause it's the only thing that can come to mind. You hate that you've said it. Admittedly, with his cock fucking into you, the ridge of his head massaging against your most sensitive spot, the name doesn't sound all that bad. Still, it would never be your first choice.

"Daddy?" He laughs. Like, really laughs. It's the kind of laugh you're used to hearing when you're lounging around in his room, doing nothing much other than existing together. His laughter quietens and then his lips are on your neck. Teeth grazing. Tongue teasing. His voice is gritty as he speaks. "I'd be paying for this cunt if I was your Daddy , wouldn't I? But look at you. You're giving it up for free for me. Slutting yourself out for my cock, aren't you?"

Fuck .

You nod. Whine. " So slutty for you."

His pace slows a little. Burrows a little further. Harder. Teeth dig a little deeper into your neck.

"Say it again."

Your breathing is shallow. Jeongguk loves the way it sounds. Is obsessed with how your breaths get even more erratic when his hand dips down to toy with your pussy. Not your clit - he'll keep you waiting for that - but anywhere and everywhere else that could be mildly stimulating for you.

His forefinger and middle finger press down on either side of your entrance, where his cock is spreading you open. He ruts, once, twice. Smirks.

"Did I fucking stutter?" Jeongguk snarls. You can hear how tense his jaw is; can imagine how pretty he looks. You fucking whine for him. Are so out of your own control it's embarrassing. "Say it again. Tell me what you are."

You let your head tilt back, and it takes everything in him not to leave a mark on your neck with his mouth. Jeongguk knows he's in control of the situation, but it feels like he's got none at all.

"A slut," you mewl as his lips press against the base of your neck.

"Whose?" He says, nipping his teeth against your skin as he continues to thrust up into you. You want him to graze. To leave a mark. Know that he won't.

"Yours."

The way you pant as you say it has Jeongguk feeling all sort of fucked up. This is just sex, yeah, but fuck . He underestimated just how much he'd like hearing that.

"Can barely fuckin' fit my cock inside you, can you?" He grits. "You sure your pussy is made for me?"

Now this does make you pout. It's not 'chess' worthy, but it has you wanting to prove yourself; prove that his cock belongs inside you. Has you wanting revenge .

You roll your hips back. Pick the pace up for him. Turn your chin to your shoulder and look back at him. The look on his face - heavy-lidded eyes, and blown out pupils, mouth ajar, tongue toying with his lip ring - would suggest your pussy is perfect for him.

"Is it not?" you almost plead, sotto voce , eyes as wide as your lips are pouty. "Tell me it's not."

Jeongguk's heavy-lidded eyes don't lift as he smirks. He looks like absolute sin. He wondered how long it would take for you to turn bratty.

"How does such a tight little cunt take me so well, huh?" He praises. "How'd you do it?"

And then he takes control back. Rams his cock into you; fills you to the hilt. You're almost certain he's hitting your cervix. He's so big. So big , and fat , and filling . You've never had a cock like his before. It almost hurts, but the pleasure always takes precedence.

How he expects you to reply when you can barely fucking moan coherently is beyond you.

One of his hands drops from your waist and sinks down to the front of your pussy. He knows it well, now. Knows how to get you creaming. Finally applies a little pressure to the hood of your clit. Dainty little circles that couldn't be further apart from the solid thrust of his cock into your hole.

He's a man of juxtapositions and the way he fucks you is no exception.

An overwhelming pleasure takes hold of your every atom; cosmic in the way the feeling transcends through you. He feels it, too. Feels fucking euphoric. Feels unlike any fuck he ever normally indulges in.

That's the thing about fucking you; there's no weight of a relationship, just a pursuit of feeling good. He's never had that with anyone else.

"Gguk, I'm gonna-"

"What?" He cuts you off. Laughs. Oh, it is mean. You like it. "Cum? No. You're not."

He doesn't relent. Keeps going. Your legs are weak from the diversion of your senses, a state of fucked out bliss taking over you. All you can feel is pleasure; butterflies in your veins, fire and ice on your skin.

"I'm so close."

"Don't care," he husks. Stalls his cock. Stops thrusting. Keeps rubbing your clit like he was put on this earth to worship you. "You're not gonna cum."

"You're gonna make me," you whine.

"Am I?" He teases.

But then you do something that surprises him; you pull away. Let him slide out from your swollen pussy. Stand up straight. Turn to face him, chest heaving. His cock is soaked. You want it in your mouth.

"No," you say, voice as strong as it can be. The change in your tone amuses Jeongguk. Takes him off guard. "You sure you've done this before? I could give you pointers."

He tilts his head. Looks you dead in the eyes, a smirk forming on his ever-charming face. There's something lewd about how his jaw hangs slack as he brazenly strokes his cock.

"I had you squirting on my fucking fingers last night," he reminds you with an arrogant laugh. "Pointers? Really ?"

You nod. The indifference you're feigning is just as transparent as it always is, but Jeongguk plays into it. He likes this. Likes how you're fighting back.

He encroaches on your space until your back is against the tiles, and you're suffocating in all that his; his provocative charm, and tender touches.

"Pointers," you repeat, lips all pouty as you give him a pathetic little look of sympathy. "Yanno. Tips . It will help you fuck better."

He knows he fucks well. Knows you're saying shit just to wind him up.

For some reason, it makes him throb .

"You keep saying how tight my cunt is," you carry on, all docile, as if your hand hasn't just wrapped itself around his cock. "But you're not really big enough for me to feel anything," you mewl with a sorry little pout.

Now if there's one thing Jeongguk's sure of, it's his size. If anything he's too big. He glances down. Your tiny hands can't even fully wrap around him. Wet hair sticking to your skin, the way you smirk is sin.

"Hey, if you want, I'm sure Jimin can give you some tips, too," you shrug, putting that final nail in your coffin. "He knows how to fuck me."

Jeongguk's heard enough. Knows he's a better fuck; but still feels the need to prove it. The way you get inside his head frustrates him so much. He doesn't know why he feels so insatiable, or how he's unable to ever just fucking control himself around you.

Dipping slightly, he grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up the wall a little bit further, leveraging you into just the right position for him. Legs wrapping around his back, you can't help but giggle a little. Tell him to be careful - "It's wet. Don't fall." - and are met with a curt reminder.

"I know how to fuck, B" he grits, lining himself up, and sinking back into you. Foreheads pressed together, you both gasp from the familiar sensation. It's so good. So satisfying.

He wastes no time fucking himself up into you, his hips just as erratic as they always are. The sound of it all makes Jeongguk think he's losing his mind. Wants the shower off cause he wants to hear you better, but knows there's no way he can even chance it. Not with Jimin next door.

"Did he get you like this?" Jeongguk scathes. He looks angry, but you know he's anything but. He's enjoying this. Enjoying you. "Did he turn you into a pathetic, slutty mess for him? Did he get you like this ?"

You whine, because it's all you can do.

"No," Jeongguk hisses. "No he didn't fucking get you like did, did he, huh?"

Brows pinched together, the familiar splendour of an orgasm is greeting you once more. You can't fucking speak. Can't do anything. Just let the sensation take hold, and shake your head.

"My dicks in your cunt, not your mouth. Answer me. Who gets you like this?"

"You," is all you can whimper. "You get me like this, Gguk."

"Yeah," he nods, a softness returning to him. His eyes; that's where you see it. What once were dark and narrow are now soft and chocolatey. Pretty . So so pretty. Full of so many stars. "I get you, don't I, B?"

If only he knew how true that statement really is. If only you could realise how true it is.

He gets you in all senses of the word; gets you coming undone, gets what you need, gets every little part of your complexities. Knows you and understands you in a way that feels almost intrusive - and yet so overwhelmingly welcome.

You nod, because at this point, you're so close you could cry . All you want to do is cum for him.

"You're so pretty when you play nicely," he praises as hips slow. There's a crease between your brows, your wanton gaze never easing up. He thinks you look angelic. Can't really control his words. Feels like you're controlling him. "Makes me wanna kiss you. Pretty little well-done kisses for my pretty little fucktoy."

Oh, fuck . That one? Yeah. That one does it for you.

One of the hands gripping his shoulders falls to your pussy, a little sore from how well he's been fucking you, but desperate for relief. He doesn't stop you. Just watches you as you get yourself there. His hips are so slow. He wants to feel it.

"Please," you beg . "Show me how well I've done."

It kind of takes Jeongguk by surprise. He thought kissing would be off the cards. It's sort of why he went down the mean route. Didn't realise how much it would just make him wanna praise you, instead.

"Hmm?" He simpers, nose nudging against yours. You've missed it so much. Like it when he fucks you from behind, but are far too obsessed with the way his nose nestles into yours.

"Please, Koo," you whisper. "Please kiss me."

That's it . That's the name that really gets him. 'Jeon' will have him hard, and any kind of title, really, will get him a little horny, but what makes him weak ? It's when you're soft for him. Makes him feel more masculine than any other name could. God it makes him wanna fuck you raw until he cums. Always pulls out, but fuck . You get him primal. Get him wanting to fill you up with his cum, all nice and warm.

"You want them?" He husks against your lips, pressing down ever so softly.

His kiss is light. Tender. Delicate. Everything he hasn't been since he started fucking you. Just a single one, that leaves you wanting so much more.

"I've been so good," you bargain, hoping he'll think you've earned more than just one. It's a dangerous game you're playing. This was supposed to be about sex. Just sex. Was supposed to undo the wrongs of the night before.

But as Jeongguk smiles, creases form beneath his eyes. He nods. Cups your jaw with his hands. "So good for me, B. Such a good girl."

The pace at which you're touching yourself increases. You're so close. He knows this. Can hear it in your breathing. Waits it out. Waits for the whines; for the throbbing of your walls around him, for the digging in of your nails to his neck. When it happens, Jeongguk thinks he might die.

The sensation washes over you, his thick cock just as painfully desperate to fill you as your pussy is to milk him. The orgasm is fast, and hard, and over far too soon. Gets you drowsy. Pliant. Pathetic.

God, he loves it. Loves the switch that comes from watching you come undone.

"Deserve more kisses," is all you mumble before Jeongguk presses his lips to yours. He retracts. Repeats. Again. Again, again, again. Dainty and docile, his lips barely ghost yours before he finishes them. He's deliberately making you crave him.

And you know he won't give you any more than this; so you offer a compromise.

"Will you cum in my mouth?"

Jeongguk nods into a tender, final, kiss. "Yeah."

He eases you off of his cock, and is gentle as you get to your feet. Knows your legs are a little shaky, so keeps a hold of your hand as you get to your knees.

All you want is to take him in your mouth. He's so big, and covered in you. The least you can do is clean him up. 

You look up at him, mascara smudged on your glittery cheeks, eyes wide and wanting as your lips part. Your tongue kitten licks against him; his head, his slit, his frenulum. Tasting yourself on his cock makes you a little feral. The way your tastes compliments one another is delectable . Mouthwatering. 

So docile and willing to please, Jeongguk wants you choking on his cock - but he knows better.

"Uh-uh." He smiles so fondly as he looks down at you that you almost think you could cry. His hand strokes your cheek, while the other replaces the tiny hand of yours that was on the base of his cock. "That's not on the birds, now, is it, B?"

You shake your head. Pout. You wanna suck it so badly.

"Mouth open," he whispers. You do as you're told, and wait patiently for him to rest himself on your pouty bottom lip. "That's it. You have any idea how gorgeous you are, like this?"

And here he is, you think.

This is the Jeongguk you're used to; the one who forgets his filter on the verge of an orgasm.

Lips hanging slack, Jeongguk's grip on his cock is tight. The way he jerks himself off is something you're well acquainted with now, but you're just as mesmerised each and every time; how engorged and angry the shiny red tip of his cock looks, the darling vein that runs down the length of his shaft, how precum pools around his slit, all messy and needy for you.

For all he can taunt you about how desperate you always are for him, you can do just the same back. Your desire is met, matched, mirrored.

He's obscene as he cums; celestial in the way he bites down on his bottom lip and gives a pained nod, chest heaving, the muscles in his tummy beginning to tense in the way they always do. You neglect to look at his cock as he unloads himself into your mouth, favouring his eyes, instead. He can barely keep them open; forces himself to because there's no way he won't squirrel away the memory of this.

"Pretty little mouth," is all he manages to whine. "Gonna fuckin' ruin it."

You're so pliant for him. Yielding to his needs; his desires. You'll do whatever he wants if it means you get him cumming - and you do. He cums so hard. Unloads spurt after spurt of hot cum onto your tongue and down your throat.

You put it down to a power complex. Weak men are your favourite kind of men.

At least you tell yourself that, as if you don't adore the way it feels when Jeongguk is a little more assertive with his wants; a little more aggressive .

He gets Mars in his eyes every now and again, and while you've never felt the full brunt of it - he always reins himself back in - you are intrigued by it.

You wonder if he and Mars used to be friends; if Jeongguk will ever let him take over for a night. You could be Venus for him, if he wants. Would be a dangerous game to play, mind you. Their moments together were masked in secrecy, and once the blanket was lifted, their affair was no more. Would be an awful shame for you both to suffer the same fate.

And so don't entertain the idea. Don't tempt him.

Seeing what you could be isn't worth losing what you are.

What you are, as Jeongguk holds your hand to pull you back up, twisting the shower head so it rains down on you once more, is friends .

Just a little overly familiar friends.

He likes making you cum, and you're a pretty big fan of returning the favour, but once post-nut clarity kicks in, you're both just idiots who are a little too brazen for their own good.

It's proven in the way you behave in the moments following; how you ask for the conditioner and he gives you shaving foam instead, how you hog the shower until he quite literally has to pick you up and move you out of his way. There's fun to be had in the comfort of your best friend; the ability to be naked and not sexual at all.

Then again, it's not like you're ever like this with Danbi. Not like Jeongguk would even dream of sharing a shower with Jimin.

It's weird. You know it's a little weird.

You like it, though. Don't want to lose it.

Jeongguk is the first to leave the bathroom.

Jimin is right where he was half an hour previously. Still snoring, still ignorant to the fact Jeongguk just railed you in the shower they share.

Taking a moment to gather your things and slip Jeongguk's shirt back on, you check yourself over in the mirror that Jeongguk wiped down a little bit with his hand. There's a blush to your cheeks, and a vibrancy to your eyes that you haven't seen in a while. It's like your hangover never existed... but then you're thinking about it again, and the unpleasant lull of a headache seems to return.

Sex, as it turns out, is just a distraction, not a cure.

When you arrive in his room, Jeongguk is flopped on his bed, his back pressed into his sheets, looking up at his phone. He's just in boxers, hair wet, lip ring shining in the light. There's a perplexed look to him, so you flop down too.

Knowing you'll ask, he passes his phone over. On the screen is an instagram profile of a guy you don't know - but recognise his display picture was taken in the gym that Jeongguk frequents. An uncomfortable knot ties itself in your tummy. Where you once felt giddy from the attention given to you by Jeongguk, you feel guilt.

Tapping on his icon, you open up his story and are confronted by the very thing that had made Jeongguk look a little miffed.

It's Jiyeong, that's for certain. The dude she's kissing? You've no idea. The caption across the middle of the photo is childish. 'Come get your girl, bro'.

You lock the phone and pass it back. He just tosses it onto the rug beside his bed.

"Ugly font," you simply say. It's that hideous, spindly cursive one. You're not sure why anyone chooses it. Would rather die than willingly post it to your story.

Jeongguk agrees. Doesn't smile, though. Isn't really sure what to do or what to make of it.

He doesn't really care that it's happened. Literally fucked you as soon as he could without moral complexities. Even if he wanted to be upset, he'd be, like, the world's biggest hypocrite.

It's the public humiliation that really frustrates him. She's done it last night in Dionysus, and he can't help but feel like she orchestrated this, too. Doesn't wanna be a laughing stock. Hates that he'll get to the gym and people will know his business.

His silence doesn't convey this.

Just makes you think he's disappointed. Sad. Upset that she's with someone else.

Makes you think that maybe the sex hadn't been about you.

You're rigid beside him, unable to move, not wanting to breathe. There's a weight on your chest, like a hundred and one books dictating the impact of having a lover who strays. You could write a few. Add them to the pile.

Jiyeong's done wrong, yes, granted. Did him wrong first.

But Jeongguk fucked you before he even sobered up from the night out. It all feels sordid.

In the moment it had safe and secure, yet now it feels illicit and ill-willed. Dirty. Nasty. Foul.

You're no better than the girls who used to climb into Seokjin's bed and use the lube you bought to get themselves ready for him . You're every single girl you have blocked on instagram because you couldn't trust yourself not to stalk their profiles looking for signs of him.

You've been cheated on. This is different granted - Jeongguk has always been single - but it still makes you feel like you've done something wrong .

The silence you let linger is unusual. You normally always fill the space. Jeongguk turns his head to get a read on you, and notices the tremble of your bottom lip instantly.

"Hey," he says softly.

Oh, it's horrible. You feel rotten from the inside out.

But he's so nice.

"B?" He implores when you don't respond. A tiny tear trickles down your temple and tickles your earlobe before getting lost in your hair.

Jeongguk sits up now. Turns his body towards yours. Keeps a palm pressed down into the sheets to keep his balance, but brings his other hand to rest just above your belly button. Rocks you a little.

"Talk to me, B," he says, all thoughts of Jiyeong obliterated from his head. Could not give a shit about whatever has happened with her. You take priority.

You always do.

You just shake your head. Dab at your cheeks with the heels of your palms. Jeongguk knocks them away. Wipes away your tears for you with his thumb, instead.

"Hey?" he whispers so tenderly it's as if he's scared his voice could bruise you. He lifts his palm from your torso, fearful that maybe it's his touch that has you like this. Worries that he did something wrong. "What is it? Was it the shower? Hey?"

Yes, you think. It was the shower.

"I'd never do anything I didn't think you wanted," he panics. He's always so firm with consent and making sure you can tap out, but now he's anxious that he missed a signal in the midst of being mean. He doesn't know what to do. "Please tell me what I did."

"No," you breathe out when you realise the conclusions he's jumping to. "No, Gguk, God. No. Not you. I just... I feel really bad."

Jeongguk could cry from relief. Think he might, as he asks, "about what?"

You shrug. Look up at the birds. Pout. The pity parade is in full swing. "I set you two up, and the second you're done, I jump into bed with you?"

The way you sneer at yourself is so cruel that Jeongguk doesn't quite understand it. You both made this choice. He's just as much to blame as you are. He looks at you, and doesn't recognise the contempt in your features. You're not looking at him, for it's not directed his way. This is all on you. You're the villain in this story, you think.

Jeongguk pauses for a moment. Tries to figure you out. Flops his back down onto his bed. Reaches for your fingers and holds them against his chest with both of his hands, like he's wrapping you up in white flags. It's okay. You don't protest.

"I don't know if this will make a difference," he admits, finally being candid about his feelings. "But I wanted to end things weeks ago."

You're sure Seokjin said the exact same thing to his mistresses.

"So why didn't you?"

Jeongguk takes a second to muster up his courage. There's nothing to be scared of. It's just you.

And so he's honest.

"You," he says quietly.

"Me?"

He nods. "Was scared. Thought you'd be disappointed in me..."

You glance over to him now, and are shocked by how sincere he appears. "What?"

"You just... You were doing so well with birds, B. I was lagging behind and I thought that if I did the bird then we'd both be well ahead and I just... I know how much you wanted me to do them, too. I do want to do them. She just... wasn't the right fit for me."

The best way Jeongguk can think to describe it is switching to mittens after wearing gloves all winter. There's always gonna be something missing.

But that means admitting you're the gloves in this situation.

He's hardly gonna admit that to himself, let alone anyone else.

"Gguk," you say, a little exasperated, wishing he'd have just been straight with you from the get-go. You know you encouraged it, but you never meant to make him feel like he didn't have a choice. "I'm so sorry. Please, don't ever think you have to do things just for my benefit. Your birds are for you. I'm so so sorry."

Jeongguk just shrugs, his shoulders rustling against his sheets. "Was a learning experience. I admit the Jiyeong thing is a bit messy, and I don't love feeling like a shitty person, but you did nothing wrong here, okay? This one's on me."

He doesn't let you argue against him. Absolves you of blame, and won't hear otherwise. You don't fully accept this, and still feel a little terrible, but hangovers always amplify it.

But now that apologising is a thing, Jeongguk feels like he should say sorry for being mean in the shower.

You think he's ridiculous.

"You were so nice to me," you tease him, before doing potentially the worst impression he's ever heard. " Oh B, you're sooooo pretty." Jeongguk just rolls his eyes. Is pleased you're smiling again. "I'm gonna think you're in love with me if you aren't careful."

"I literally called you a slut?" Jeongguk laughs, throwing his towel at you as he stands to get the water. It hits you square in the face, but you just bundle it into your lap, a big grin plastered all over your face. It's like you're bubbling over now that he's remedied your woes; so chatty and happy. He likes it so much when you're like this. "You can be pretty and the bane of my life all at the same time."

With a shrug, you lie back down, his quilt a comfortable haven. The birds above you gently waltz, the air from Jeongguk's a/c encouraging them to twirl together.

"Been called worse names and not been given an orgasm," you assure him.

"Well next time I'll be meaner," he promises. "And I deliberately won't make you cum."

You gasp. "You'd never do such a thing."

"You wanna bet?"

A grin settles on your lips. "A little."

He just laughs. "Shame it isn't on a bird."

As if you've really been following that rule.

"Well, why don't we make some more?" you suggest, not really thinking much of it.

"More?" he questions.

He sees the lack of birds as a sign of accomplishment; something to be celebrated. Doesn't understand why you'd want to add more.

However, he also knows at this point he likes his life better when you're doing the birds. Feels like he's actually progressing as a person. Plus, it gives him more excuses to fuck you, he figures. Will never say no to that.

"Yeah," you nod. "Like resolutions, almost. Things we wanna get done by the end of the year, just specific to..."

You trail off, unsure of how to phrase it.

"Shagging?" he offers, but you feel it's too brash.

" Personal development ," you counter. "Your fears and mine, but maybe some extra ones thrown in there."

"So that means I can put my own version of your birds up?" He asks, to which you nod.

"Go wild. Forget the planes, just make them birds, now. Although," you muse. "What were the birds?"

Jeongguk absolutely does not want to answer that.

Some of them were a little... unorthodox. All things he's yet to explore, he doesn't feel that confident voicing them out loud. Worries that you won't like them, or might think they're strange.

He's yet to realise there's very little you won't do if you're horny enough - and unfortunately for you (or should that be luckily?) Jeongguk seems to have a way about him that gets you there.

When you're like this, laughing and joking about the intricacies of sex, you're not hot and bothered. It's all just fun and games.

You know the second that his hands are on your body again, you'll melt.

It's why distance is a good idea, you think as you move to sit on his desk chair, taking one of his pillows with you to hug into your chest. Your foot rests on the seat of the chair, an anklet catching in the light, chin resting on your knee. You don't wanna encourage any more repeats of the night before. Or this morning. Or the inevitable evening that will follow if you stay in his room all day wearing his clothes.

It's just one of his things ; like sweet perfume and pretty wrists. Anklets and girls wearing his glasses. Add wearing his shirt to any of those?

Yeah. He's done for.

It will get him firm .

He's not been entirely soft all day - but he is incredibly good at holding himself back. Enjoys spending time with you without the pressure of sex. Not his fault he just wants it all the goddamn time.

As long as you don't get too playful, he'll be fine. The second you give him the eyes - those ones he likes so much that you don't even realise you're doing - he'll probably die.

"Any hard limits?" he asks.

"I don't know," you consider out loud. You've never considered yourself vanilla, but there are still certain roads you haven't been down; some you don't care for. "Fisting?"

Jeongguk snorts. Looks down to his hand that's resting in his crossed lap. The other is firmly pressing into the sheets behind him, keeping his back supported. "Okay."

The way he says it, almost like he thinks you've told the biggest lie since Milli Vanilli existed, has you recoiling a little. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs. Tries to hide his smirk. Fails miserably. "Well, it's just... We're not that far off."

"Sorry?"

Jeongguk resists the urge to say 'forgiven'. Doesn't wanna sound like Jimin. The way you're looking at him really does have him wanting to wind you up, though.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he says, and then raises three fingers, as if he's giving you a fucking Boy Scout salute. "Halfway ther-"

He's cut off with a pillow hitting him in the face. You are, for no good reason, mortified. It's your pussy they've been inside.

"It's true!" He protests with a laugh. "I'm not saying I want to, I'm just saying of all the things to have limits for..."

"You are not punching my vagina!" You hiss whisper at him.

"Well, I wasn't gonna be violent about it!"

"Good!"

"Great!

"Fine!"

"So... no fisting?"

"No," you laugh. "No fucking fisting."

He's not gonna take it as a challenge. Not gonna try and change your mind. Really isn't interested in it. Agrees that it really would feel a little too aggressive for the way he normally fucks you.

Normally . Jeongguk laughs to himself when he realises what he's just thought. You've not fucked enough times for there to be a 'normal'.

"What about you?" You deflect. "Any limits? Cucking? Ass play-"

"Woah, woah," he says. "Give me a chance to think, B."

"Sorry," you say shyly.

"Don't wanna be cucked," he says. "Switch it round, and like, I was fucking someone while their husband or whatever watched? Think I could get down with that," he says.

"Well, I'm not getting married any time soon, so."

"Exactly. It wouldn't work for us," he says, not even considering exploring it without you. "Now, ass play on the other hand?"

"Hmm?" You grin a little bit. You both know he's interested in it. Doesn't ever bloody shut up about arses.

"I like it," he shrugs. "Nothing, like... too extreme. Rimming, fingers, stuff like that? Yeah. I like it. Giving and receiving."

"Interesting," you nod, jotting these preferences down on a pad of sticky notes on his desk. He says nothing when you pick up his glasses and put them on. Knows you won't be able to see jack shit through them. Puts a checkmark in the box next to his mental list of things that gets him horny. "Nothing too extreme... Does that write-off pegging?"

He's quiet for a moment. Considers it. Then admits, "it really is one of the planes. Wasn't joking. Never done it... kind of... curious?"

"Curious," you nod. "Cool. I mean it's fine with me."

Jeongguk looks surprised at how quickly you just... agreed. Didn't even have to explain himself. "Really?"

"Yeah?" You laugh. "Gguk, I'm hardly gonna judge you, am I? And anyways, I fuck girls, too. I know my way around a strap."

He coughs. Always forgets, as if he hasn't quite literally seen you leave Dionysus before hand in hand with girls that aren't Danbi. Tries to cover his little splutter. "Good. Uh, I mean. Yeah. Good to know. Do you... you know?"

"Have one?"

He nods.

You shake your head.

"Seokjin," you start, before deciding that his name isn't welcome. "My ex, I mean. He wasn't a fan of... toys? I guess. I don't know. He was so prim and proper. Hated going to grab a condom and being greeted with a cock bigger than his."

Jeongguk laughs. Thinks maybe he'd be intimidated, too. "Okay. Kinda makes sense. Do you have any? Like toys, in general? I've not really ever experimented with them."

Curious how he doesn't mention the literal fleshlight in the drawer next to his dresser. Maybe he will one day. Just not today.

"Just a vibrator," you say without much care. You don't feel shy around him. "Went through a second purge after... my ex. Got rid of everything bedroom-related that he'd touched. So. Yeah. That's it."

He nods. "Well if there's stuff you wanna try in that department... I'd be up for it."

Jeongguk comes to join you by his desk and takes the sticky notes from your possession. He rips the block in half, two even piles now where there once was one. He tosses one of the halves back down to you, and grabs a pen before returning to his bed.

"Write the thing you want to try on the back of them. We'll stick them up so they look blank, then pick them off one by one and get them done," he says.

"It's like the birds all over again," you laugh, but Jeongguk gasps.

"Don't. They'll hear you and get sad you're replacing them."

"I could never replace them," you feign offence to his accusation. "I love our kids."

"And yet I'm the one with sole custody," he teases.

"Not for long," you assure him, nodding toward the three piled on his desk. "I'll report you for neglect and take over guardianship."

"Hey," he pouts. "This is their home. You can't take them."

"Fine then," you smirk. You like it when he's a little ridiculous with you. "I'll just move in."

"Fine," he shrugs. Fights a smile. Is so glad to have you back. Overwhelmingly pleased that things are now as they always were.

The pair of you jot down ideas for far too long, and end up covering an entire section of his wall in sticky notes.

Occasionally you call out ideas - "Threesome?" "Sixty-nine?" "Bondage?" - but are always met with the same response: "Shut up and write your damn sticky notes, Byeol."

By the time you're done, there are barely any sticky notes left. It's a lot of things to complete. A lot of resolutions to stick to. His wall is almost like an art installation, but you both know the real magic is hidden on the back of the notes.

Both looking at it, Jeongguk holds out his palm for you to slap yours against it.

"Good job, team," you nod.

"Well done us."

It's mid-afternoon and you're still feeling fragile. Jeongguk needs some sort of energy drink as a pick-me-up, so heads to the corner shop for you all. Jimin is also still in a state of disrepair on the sofa, but he has at least got Netflix going, now.

Sinking into the sofa next to him, Jeongguk's shirt hanging off you like a bloody parachute, you tuck your legs up onto the seat. Jimin groans, and asks if you feel like you've been hit full-pelt by a falling tree branch, to which you just nod.

"Whatever he put in those starfuckers last night must have been lethal," you hypothesize.

"Mhmm," Jimin agrees. "Was probably jealous we were having fun without him. Did I get home with you guys? Can't remember a fuckin' thing after midnight."

You shake your head, not that Jimin can see you. He can feel the slight movements of your body, though, and it makes his stomach lurch. His oesophagus burns from the vomit he's swallowed back down a handful of times already this morning, his system well and truly fucked from last night's escapades.

"Showed up at like... I don't even know," you admit. "Sun was rising, though."

"Christ."

"Mhmm," you hum. "Sat in your pants for a bit, then refused to go to bed. Felt like looking after a toddler."

Now this does make Jimin laugh - which he immediately regrets, 'cause his stomach feels like a stowaway log flume on a water rapid ride. He nestles his head further into the side of the sofa, then attempts to sit up. Thinks laying down impacts his bodily functions.

"Jeongguk ended up putting you to bed," you add, just to let him know.

Jimin's smile is soft. Childish. You know he's about to say something immature, but don't mind. It's nice not having to worry about escapades of the past when talking with him. "Daddy energy."

You snort. "Oh, the Daddiest."

"Bet you it's a thing for him," Jimin adds.

"What? Daddy?"

"Yeah. He's too... good," Jimin decides. You think he's trying to bait you. Trying to smoke you out. "So clean and tidy. Gotta be hiding some sort of filth."

You roll your eyes and toss a pillow in his direction. "Last thing I wanna do is think about what Jeongguk's like in bed," you say.

You aren't lying. You know it will get you all hot and bothered again. Don't need Jimin catching wind of it.

"Disco Ball," Jimin says with a flat voice and raised brows, as he turns to look at you, before nodding towards the mirror in the corner of the room.

Now that you aren't busy looking at Jeongguk getting you off in it, you notice that there are pictures lining the edges of it from photo booths - dozens upon dozens of them, their friends, people you know, people you don't. Makes you sad there are none of you. There's not much to show for your friendship, not just with Jeongguk but with any of the boys. Front and center, a pair of red lips and sultry eyes steal the spotlight in at least half of the photos. You hate the way it makes you feel, and how your tummy gets so twisted thinking about her.

Unaware of your turmoil, Jimin continues. "Look at yourself. You're covered in sparkles and wearing a shirt that we both know doesn't belong to you. You know who else is unusually covered in sparkles this morning?"

You don't answer.

"Exactly." Jimin's smile is so smug that you sort of wish he'd throw up, just to wipe it away.

"You're forgetting the part where I literally painted him in glitter last night," you say.

"I'm forgetting most of the night, DB - not that it matters. You two are about as subtle as a police siren."

"Men and women are perfectly capable of being friends without fucking," you say.

He nods. "True. Doesn't mean that you aren't fucking, though."

"Oh my God."

Jimin's grilling is interrupted by the sound of the keypad beeping on the door, sounding out Jeongguk's return.

"Hey," he calls through, a plastic bag rustling as he makes sure the door is properly shut.

Without even so much as missing a beat, Jimin perks back up. "Disco Ball was just telling me about what the pair of you got up to last night."

Jeongguk pauses. Turns his head slightly as if to question what the fuck Jimin is on about. "The part where we put you to bed, or something else?"

"The part where you took each other to bed."

"Funny," Jeongguk considers. "I'm pretty sure I'd have remembered it if I shagged last night."

"Oh don't give me this bullshit."

"What bullshit?" Jeongguk feigns confusion. "Guys and girls are perfectly capable-"

"Yes, I know!" Jimin almost cries. "God, you two are the worst. Just tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"That you fucked."

"You want us to tell you a lie?" Jeongguk says so plainly that it should almost concern you how good he is at lying.

"Why are you so interested anyway?" You laugh. "You wanna join?"

Jimin considers it for a moment. Jeongguk turns his nose up in disgust. "You are going nowhere near me."

"Oh, so DB can shag you, but I can't. Thanks, Jeongguk. Nice to know where I stand in the friendship hierarchy."

"We're not shagging you little cretin," Jeongguk stresses. "You've got a good ass, though."

This pleases Jimin. "Always knew you were secretly into guys, too."

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes. Doesn't bother correcting him, 'cause what's the use? Jimin wouldn't believe him anyways, or so it seems.

"What are we watching?" Jeongguk asks as he walks over to the sofa, tossing the bag of food down on the coffee table. He doesn't need to ask. He already knows, for it's always the same answer whenever Jimin is hungover and alone. The Notebook . "Which part are we at?"

He could sit anywhere, but chooses to plonk himself down right between you and Jimin. Nestles in. Makes himself comfy, even if it means you and Jimin both have to budge a little.

"Noah's just started restoring the house," Jimin says, to which Jeongguk nods.

He knows the plot just as well as his housemate, now. Watched it every weekend for a good couple of months after the Hayun debacle. Jimin had refused to let Jeongguk go home alone, so put his love for casual encounters on the back burner.

"Always makes me think of Yoongi," Jeongguk muses a little mindlessly.

You agree. You think Yoongi would absolutely restore a house for Seoyeon. It's an apt comparison. One that has you wondering if you'll ever have someone so devoted to you they'd do something like that. For a little while, you had thought that Seokjin would. Thought he loved you in a way that people wrote movies about. Thought that despite your troubles and your differences, it would be a love story that would be adored by the masses. Instead, it's now just a cautionary tale.

Glancing over to you, Jeongguk notices your subdued features.

"You good?" He whispers, nudging your knee with his.

You nod. Whisper back. "Hungover."

It's an answer he accepts, but whether or not he believes it is another thing. He leans forward and retrieves the bright blue bottle of Powerade from the bag. "Here. It'll help."

There's hesitancy to your acceptance, a small smile tickling on your lips. "Thank you."

"Shush," Jimin hisses. "I love this part."

He proves this by reciting every single line for the next scene - 'I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year.' 'You wrote me?' 'Yes. It wasn't over. It still isn't over.' - before also deciding that he'll only feel better with a Powerade in his system, too.

Thankfully, Jeongguk planned ahead and got one for each of you. Casual conversation picks up, none of you too invested in the movie - apart from Jimin's occasional cutaways from the conversation to recite lines - and you find that things between the three of you are so incredibly easy. As much of a nightmare as Jimin can be, he's good fun - and he also gives both you and Jeongguk a buffer.

He's not sure about you, but Jeongguk knows he needs that buffer. He's still in that hideous state of hangover-horny that only a good nut can solve - but he's already fucked you. Twice within the last twelve hours. It's worse than usual. He decides that it's not his fault- but then he thinks about you indecently again, and finds himself getting all needy and hard when he really shouldn't be.

His hands are placed strategically, hiding the fact he's got a raging hard-on whilst sitting between two of his closest friends. He can't move. He cannot have Jimin seeing him like... this .

On the contrary, he wants you to see him like it. Wants you to know how badly he could do with another fuck. Thinks it would be a compliment.

It's not until Jimin goes to his room to a charger does Jeongguk reveal his affliction.

"B. We've got a problem," he whispers, lifting his hands to reveal exactly what he was concealing.

"Oh, Jesus," you gasp.

"I don't think he'll help," Jeongguk says with such a pained whine that it's hard not to laugh. "I think I'm gonna die."

"Just go get yourself off?" You suggest, because it seems like the most logical step to take. You can hear Jimin rustling about in his room. Jeongguk's hands cover himself again. "Unless..."

"God, I thought you'd never offer."

"I'm not!" You laugh.

"Okay, so you want me to die."

You roll your eyes. "You won't die."

"I might."

"You definitely won't."

"Definitely won't what?" Jimin asks as he reenters the room, phone cable in hand.

"Die alone," you say, trying to think fast, shooing away the elephant in the room. "He's worried. The film is scaring him."

"Ah yes," Jimin hums. "Romance movies. The most terrifying genre of all."

"You'd agree if you had my dating history," Jeongguk assures him, which earns a laugh.

"True."

It's sunset before you leave, and even then, Jeongguk thinks it's too soon. Wants you to stay round again. A sleepover. Wouldn't mind it without the sex; makeshift beds in the living room, midnight feasts. Would still probably end up fucking you before sunrise 'cause he's still a randy bastard and you still drive him insane, but that's neither here nor there.

Instead, he asks if you'll be around tomorrow. He'll go to the gym, but wants to grab coffee afterwards. Will probably need a friendly face, knowing how hellish it will be at Jiyeong's place of work.

How can you refuse?

Sometimes, Jeongguk's eyes are so sparkly you think he might have been a fairy prince in his past life. It's the only way to explain it. In a way, it feels like he lends his wings to you. Lifts you up. Assures you that despite all the toads, and beetles, and moles you may have kissed in the past, there'll be a bumblebee-riding fairy prince out the for you, too.

He's one of the good ones. A good boy. One that will be hard to let go of, you think as you make your way home.

And apparently, as you open your apartment door to far more of Taehyung's ass than you ever needed to see - "Holy shit." "Jesus Christ, close your eyes!" "On the fucking sofa?! Really?!" - it looks like Danbi's in just as much of a pickle as you are.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[lackadaisicallizard]

Studying

Regulus Black is beautiful. 

Even now, especially now, as they sit opposite each other in the school library, the afternoon sun pushing its way through the high windows and causing rays of light to play on his skin, painting him with shifting patterns of warmth and shadows. 

He’s so fucking beautiful. 

It was Regulus’ idea, the study session, what with exams around the corner, and James had intended to study. Truly he had. 

But Regulus is right there, and he’s so much more interesting than a history text book. 

James’ lips curl up into a smile as the younger boy’s dark brows furrow together in concentration, his sharp grey eyes scanning the page in front of him. His pen moves across the paper, tucked in the elegant curve of his fingers as he takes meticulous notes, each stroke a precise movement, each word carefully chosen as if he’s painting a masterpiece with each one. 

The sunlight moves slightly as the clouds change course and the play of the gleam on his skin accentuates his sharp jawline and light complexion, highlighting the faint freckles dusting his cheeks like stardust. James is utterly spellbound, destined to sit here and watch Regulus for the rest of his life. He’s completely fine with that. 

Regulus looks up then and as their eyes meet, light grey mixing with warm brown, the world disappears for a moment. It’s just the two of them, suspended in time. 

“Can I help you, Potter?” There’s no real irritation in his voice. 

“You’re the love of my life.” The words fall out of James’ mouth of their own accord. They feel right though. More right than anything he’s ever said before. 

Regulus just looks at him for a moment, eyes slightly wider than usual, before a soft smile appears on his lips. “Then I hope it’s a long one,” he says, the words hanging in the air like a promise he intends to keep. 

“I’ve always been up for a challenge.”  

Regulus rolls his eyes fondly, smile lingering on his face as he goes back to studying his textbook. 

James studies too, knowing full well that Regulus’ face doesn’t contain the answers he’ll need to pass his exams. 

And he really couldn’t care less. 

[danika-redgrave124]

Winx Yuu's Transformations 1

Basic Transformation

When Yuu transforms, they reaches up towards the sky, and the stars seem to respond, showering them in stardust. Their wings unfurl on a burst of celestial light, and their outfit materializes from the shifting patterns of the night sky. Finally, they draws in a deep breath, and the constellations on their wings, their outfit glows brightly, competing their Transformation with a serene, yet powerful pose.

Special Transformations

Lunar Eclipse Form

Trigger: During a lunar eclipse or when Yuu needs a significant boost in power.

Sequence: As the moon darkens, Yuu raises their hands, and the eclipse causes an intense shimmering eclipse aura to surround them. Their wings expand, taking on a darker, more dramatic appearance with intricate patterns resembling eclipse shadows.

Appearance: Their outfit transforms into a more elaborate gown with deep blue and black hues, resembling the night sky during an eclipse. The gown is adorned with crescent moon and eclipse motifs. Their wings become more intricate, with shadowy, crescent-shaped patterns and a luminous edge.

Yuu is still training with this form and uses it during her mediation and moon bathing.

Stellar Aurora Form

Trigger: When Yuu taps into the full power of their celestial magic, often during important battles or moments of high emotions.

Sequence: Yuu holds their arms out, and a brilliant Aurora borealis effect envelops them, shifting colors from green to purple to pink. The Aurora flows around them, creating a mesmerizing and vibrant display as their transformation completes.

Appearance: Their outfit becomes a dazzling array of shifting colors and light patterns, mirroring the Auroras in the sky. Their wings sparkle with dynamic, multicolored constellations that seems to move and shift. The effect creates a radiant aura around them, enhancing their presence.

Yuu awoken this form during Jamil's Overblot, but it was weaken due to the rigorous activities and being in the desert with bright sunlight. They got better at training with it, more so used it as a way to comfort their friends during Overblot battles.

Dreamweaver Form

Trigger: When Yuu enters the dream realm or needs to use their dream-based powers.

Sequence: Yuu closes their eyes and a soft, dreamy most surrounds them. As they open their eyes, the mist forms into their Transformation, with dream-like imagery and soft pastel colors.

Appearance: Their dress turns into a flowing gown made of soft, pastel shades with dream-like patterns and ethereal light. Their wings resemble delicate, translucent dream catchers, adorned with soft glows and wispy, shimmering trails. This form enhances their dreamwalking abilities and provides a soothing, calming aura.

This form was mainly used for Yuu's crafting dreamcatchers. This form becomes more prominent during Malleus's Overblot and when they and the rest need to dreamwalk to the next person's dream.

@alexglitches I'm working on Yuu's other Transformations like Charmix and the others, but figured Astral Dream Fairy Yuu would have a basic transformation and special Transformations.

@twisted-dreamscape

[sp00kymulderr]

gideon!!!! congratulations on the milestone!!! absolutely so so deserved and i’m sorry I just now saw the post! 🖤

💭i’d like to request ''stay tonight.'' from the prompt list, maybe with ezra?? I miss him 🫶🏻

wonderful Liv! I'm so sorry this has been in my inbox since January. Me and Ezra were having a moment, but things are all good now. I humbly offer you this:

Starlit

sex worker!Ezra x afab!reader

694 words

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI. sex work, oral (reader receiving)

He is always the first thing on your mind when you arrive here.

The beautiful silver-tongued man with starlight in his eyes. Known by many and more than once by you, memories of him seared both on your flesh and in your mind.

Standards of travel have left you wanting, needing. Your fingers never work you the way another can, your touch never grips the way a lover can. Worst of all, the remembered whisper of his voice in your ear leaves you without the comfort of his warmth and sincere affection.

Ezra advertises his services as comfort. He sells sex, yes, but moreso he sells a few needed hours of companionship to the weary traveller, the tired prospector, the anguished fringeling far from home. He is generous with what he gives, not just in passion but in succour, in the intimacy of his whispered weaving stories as he holds you - he offers a piece of himself. Ezra provides comfort, and pleasure, and it is always more than worth the cost.

He is like an artist, you think. His art is being able to relieve the tired ache of your bones, and leaving your soul a modicum lighter than it felt upon arrival here.

There’s a stream of sunlight warming the bed as Ezra works between your thighs today. Your fingers hold in his soft hair with a gentle tug as he works what you can only describe as magic, that silver tongue finding it's way towards your second release of the day.

Your breath comes shallow; the way he flattens his tongue against you and stretches you on his fingers at the same time makes your legs shake in assailing delectation. He is a god, divinity in pleasure, and you thank you star that you came to find him on this miserable planet again.

You are, of course, just one of many but you like to think he doesn't look at the others the way he does you, the way his sparkling eyes meet yours as you look down upon him now, as he eats you like a blessed repast.

Your back arches, a gripping feeling of closeness tightening your core. His fingers curl, his plush lips sucks until you cry out and pull again. The room is hot and your bodies are warm, sticky. His own hips rut against the mattress as yours rise in increasing desperation. This gift of his, it takes you over. You are stardust as your body trembles, heart pumping wildly. The sweetness of release finally lays itself upon you. Oh. He is a god. Some spirit of heavenly pleasure.

You wish he could be yours forever.

You whimper his name over and over as you come down from a high unlike any other.

"Ezra...Ezra...my Ezra"

He kisses your twitching clit a few times more, never quite ready to give up your taste – he had told you before that he doesn’t do this only for the money but also for his own desires.

Finally he rises to lay over you, his body heavy and hot on yours, the hardness of him grinding against your soaked centre as he eyes you curiously.

"Yours?" He whispers, a devilish smile on his lips that makes you quiver again lustfully.

"Yes, mine...tonight?" You whisper, thankful that he understands it when you words are staccato and flustered.

You've never had him stay for more than a few hours. Never been so lavish with hard earned credits, but money feels no object right now as your cunt flutters and pulses at the thought of a full night with him. To wake up beside him is an experience worth all the money in the universe, you imagine.

Your fingers play in the white-blonde patch of hair. Curious, like him. You know little of this man and yet you want him in your bed for as long as you can possibly keep him.

He is a symphony of raucous desire.

“Stay tonight” You murmur, pulling him in to a searing kiss as soon he nods his agreement.

You know so little of him, but what you do know if that one night with this starlit man - even though it makes you poorer - will make you richer in heart and soul.

[jules-writes-stories]

Elucien Week | Day 4 | High (Fae) Society | Full Chapter on AO3

A Heart of Gold

A Retelling of King Midas, Lucien x Elain

...But he was a High Fae male, and he wanted her. And she wanted him back. Perhaps, if he played with her…

“Do you enjoy games?” Lucien turned to face the beautiful woman in the moonlight. Her eyebrows shot up. Shadows of suspicion crossed her soft features. For every human was taught from the cradle to beware the trickster Fae and their bargains, gifts, and games.

But at this very moment, in the amber light of the full moon, the lull of the waves beating against the surf, beside this beautiful male with golden brown skin and hair like a flame, Elain felt brave. She wanted to do something reckless. She was tired of being the one to stay behind. The soft, quiet, middle sister, a flower garden tucked away between silver flames, steel, and stardust. For just one night, Elain wanted to fly, and burn, and bleed.

“Yes. I will play.” She looked boldly at the male.

Lucien nodded. “It’s a Fae game, called Two Truths, and a Trick. Usually, there are enchantments involved. I might glamour myself, and you would have to decide what upon my person was magicked and what was real.” He noted her wary look. “But we will keep it simple. I will offer you two truths and one falsehood. You must guess which is the lie.”

Elain’s toes curled in anticipation. She was adept at reading others. Even as a child, her father often let her sit in on his meetings, asking for her first impressions. She was quiet and unassuming. And men especially, underestimated her, because of her beauty and soft nature. But she listened well, and watched carefully, and was very keen and clever.

“Very well. What do I get,” she asked, “should I answer correctly?” She smiled cheekily at Lucien.

And for the first time, the High Fae seemed at a loss. But he recovered quickly. “You can ask me anything, and I have to answer with another truth.” Elain nodded, content.

Lucien faced her. “Alright. I will start. I was raised by a malicious Fire Lord, who learned I was not his own son, but in fact, Helion’s bastard, four hundred year after my birth.” Elain’s eyes grew wide as saucers. Lucien chuckled. But the human studied his lips. His pupils. Whether his nostrils flared.

Lucien’s smile turned devilish. “I glow, when I come.” Elain gasped and face turning red, slapped her hand to her mouth.

“You…” she swallowed, then swatted at his arm. “Incorrigible.” He laughed.

“And, last, I have no desire to ever kiss a human. I find them truly unappealing.” Lucien offer her a slow smile, watching Elain, inhaling her jasmine and honeyed scent. She cleared her throat.

“You do make it difficult.” She sighed. “But I will say that it is true that you were raised by a Fire Lord, and I am assuming your Lady mother must have once been wed to this Lord…” Lucien was impressed.

“I will say it is also true that you…glow… upon…” her face now flushed again, “release.” Lucien huffed a laugh. She mumbled rake, beneath her breath. “So, the lie must be that you have no desire to kiss a human,” she finished. Her voice had lowered to a husky whisper.

Lucien leaned in, his breath warm, his skin smelling of spice and citrus and sunlight. The Fae male lifted a single finger to stroke along the curved shell of Elain’s ear. “You are right. I find these… so pretty.”

She shivered. “Now I get to ask a question and you must answer, truthfully.” Elain felt breathless. There was a warmth, a melting at the apex of her thighs, beneath her navel, as Lucien’s finger moved lower, stroking along the delicate bones of her collarbone, skimming the edges of her gown, so close to where her breasts peaked. How would it feel, for his warm mouth to taste her there? His hands to pull her breasts from her bodice and stroke her, to take her in his mouth. Elain squeezed her thighs together. She wanted that.

And before she could even think, she blurted out, “Do you want me?”

Read the full Chapter on Ao3

@the-darkestminds @prythian-fashion @shadowqueenjude @elucienweekofficial @zenkindoflove

[wolfcha1k]

NOT MY ART, I ONLY PAID FOR IT, PLEASE CHECK OUT LILY.B_ART ON INSTAGRAM FOR MORE OF HER WORK!

Something strange boomed and rumbled overhead, Zenith reclining his head up to gawk inquisitively up at the clouds above. Stray splotches of sunlight fought to push past the overcast sky, golden as starlight. 

“The sky speaks?” Zenith asked Asha, glancing towards the princess with eyes bright in curiosity. 

She looked up heavenwards before meeting his gaze. “In a way, I guess.” Asha quirked the corners of her lips in a small smile. "It's called thunder, it usually means rain is coming, Zenith.”

“Rain?” He echoed. Zenith stopped walking to continuously gaze up at the sky, intrigued. He heard Asha’s steps and felt her presence as she got close to him. 

“Yes, and we better hurry up and find somewhere to bunker down to wait out the storm. Rain isn't really fun to get stuck in,” Asha explained as she grabbed onto his arm, leading him down the trail they were taking through the open field. 

He caught Asha's eyes looking towards the cusp of trees in the distance that would offer shelter. “What's so bad about it?” 

“Well, it's wet, for one,” Asha told him, lifting a finger from her free hand to start counting the ways. “It makes you get muddy, there's lightning and then there's the wind.” Zenith was charmed by the adorable scrunching of Asha's face as she thought deeply, clearly very passionate about the topic. “Oh! And you can catch a chill.”

“I see,” Zenith replied, smiling at her. He took another moment to admire the sky, listening to the purr of the thunder and drinking in the way the sunbeams shimmered. 

As if the world felt ironic and had heard Asha’s complaints, and considering the heavens were full of omnipresence from the Starfolk themselves, it was a plausibility, a big fat droplet smacked Asha’s nose. Zenith stared at her in wide eyed wonder. 

“Oh no!” Asha exclaimed for not a moment longer did more begin to fall from the sky and Asha feebly raised her arms over her head. “It's here!”

Zenith raised his face to the sky, gawking at it in bewildering awe. He felt his skin and clothes dampen as each droplet struck down on himself. “The sky cries too?”

“That, Zenith, is what we call rain,” she told him with a sigh.

“Fascinating…” Zenith reached a hand out, feeling the rain fall into his open palm. He flexed his fingers, experimenting with the feeling of water on his being. The large fringe of his hair drooped over his forehead, his braid swaying in the storm's wind.

He breathed in the cool air, chest expanding as his lungs took it in. The mist tickled his nose and he found himself smiling widely at the strange and alien sensations this earthly form bestowed him. 

Zenith lifted both his hands, channeling magic as it rippled through him. He felt Asha’s eyes on him and he chanced her a brief, glowing smile before looking back up at the raining sky. He caught the droplets in his magical grasp, levitating them above his palms. He lifted them higher yet, floating overhead. 

Asha’s palm was warm on his back. “Zenith, we better—”

He turned to look at her, grinning brightly at her. “Your world is beautiful, Asha.”

She was quiet for a moment, watching him fiddle and play with the rain. Her expression softened and soon she smiled too. “Yeah, I guess you're right about that.” Her braids swished as she looked up at the sky and Zenith's breath caught at the halo of light that surrounded her, misty and ethereal as stardust from the sun. “It's quite a sight, isn't it?”

“Yeah…” He murmured softly, a fondness rushing over him like the rain as it fell. Zenith willed himself a moment longer before returning his violet gaze towards the sky. 

Thunder roared in his ears and he wasn't sure if it was from the storm or his heart pounding hard in his chest…

🌠 🌠 🌠 🌠

I purchased more art from lily.b_art again! You can follow the original upload here:

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This is a future scene for Star Light, Star Bright though final version could change possibly since it's super far away chapter wise. Follow the fanfic on Ao3 for future updates because they are coming eventually, me and my co writer just been busy is all lately though we are drafting the project actively still 👍 Also, Zenith totally sounds like Christian Bale's Howl in my head when I write him.

[actual-changeling]

beginning of the fic that is currently driving me completely insane so any comments are appreciated, maybe i will finish it after all.

He had been made of love once. Of stardust and void and dark matter, hair the flame of a breathing star, wings spun out of light and love.

Crowley remembers the weight of it in his chest, the lightness in his smile, how effortlessly he could get lost within his creations and dissolve into a star brighter than any of them. Oh, how he burned while drowning in them, the heat a soft caress brushing over his skin, an embrace rivalling the grace pulsating where a heart would be.

All he wanted was an eternity in an infinite universe—his universe—and then all of it came crashing down.

—

Crowley had invented a lot of things.

He had drawn constellations into empty patches of the universe with sparking fingertips and a smile on his face, and had placed planets and asteroids within them like a mother places her newborn in a crib. They are his as much as he is theirs, and nothing, not even God, could change that. Among them, surrounded by the physical manifestations of his joyful love, he had felt at home.

While he might not have been responsible for shooting stars, he had been—by far—the most beautiful one, breathtaking like the ending of a tragedy you knew would unfold throughout the play.

The Starmaker, protector of his creations, was cast out by the being who had planted that love within him and named him a prodigal child. One last gentle touch, Her palm pressed to his chest.

Centuries later, in the depths of the night, with the sky spanning above him, he would still swear to have felt an apology on his face, breathed from Her mouth right before hellfire sparked from Her fingertips, right before She set him alight, right before She pushed.

Crowley never got answers to any of his questions, not from Her, not from anyone.

His fall had been answer enough.

—

What he mourns in the sunlight and the glow of the moon, when he fell and when he landed, when he broke through the ground in Eden, and all the way to one lonely, lonely car ride to get away from what had been home, is touch.

Forced to learn that hell does not touch, it takes, he turned his pain into fury, breaking any hands daring to reach out to him, and soon no one except for the mightiest dukes dared to enter his space. Leaving those corridors behind had been an embrace in its own right, and then there had been one guardian angel on the eastern wall of Eden.

Aziraphale did not touch as much as he hovered, near enough to allow Crowley a taste of warmth, of the love he was no longer allowed to own, yet he barely dared to brave the remaining distance between them. Whenever he did, there were always layers of fabric still separating them, so, so close to sating the hunger growing underneath his skin.

Still, Crowley took those moments and treated them with the utmost care, never pushing, never demanding, simply allowing and submitting to the rules that Aziraphale wrote and rewrote with every meeting.

Because tell me, how does someone ask for an embrace when that very question—let them stay, let me have them, please, don't take them from me—is what stole it from you in the first place?

—and then the rules changed.

[wrathbites]

Habit

It’s habit to wake up, roll over, and bid good morning to the ship who’s kept them alive another day, another night, through another firefight.

It’s habit to reach out and pat the interior of her hull, a cold shock to his fingers, but a welcome one.

It’s habit to pause at the edge of the bed, wait for the reply.  That “good morning, Jeff” laced with warm amusment.

But the ship is still, grounded where she’d fallen.  But she’s silent, little more than a shell to protect them from the weather and EDI —

EDI’s nowhere to be found.  Lost.

Gone.

[smallraindrops-blog]

Ooo requests, you say?

Could I request another Achilles x Patroclus x Reader?

If related to Covered in Stardust it could just be Achilles and Patroclus smothering Y/n I'm affection and getting familiar with each other again and telling Zagreus stories of when they were alive, or them just finally getting some domestic bliss? (Fishing with Achilles, medicine making with Patroclus, patching up Zagreus when they can, the occasional spar, kissing, and cuddle sessions)

Or of you'd prefer it to be separate, maybe just little moment of Achilles and Patroclus noticing and falling in love with Y/n, and Y/n being oblivious because sure he loves them but they have each other, no need for some random lovesick third to bother them. (Angst to fluff?)

Dealers' choice!

I like these two very much.

Take your Hands Into Mine

Word count:2.3

warnings: no beta, kissing, some angst, domestic bliss, possible hades 2 spoilers 

Notes: here ya go! Thank you for waiting. Decided to go with the first one if that okay. Mainly a butch of a little shorts but i hope you enjoy them! ^.^

Covered in stardust (part one)

Aim 

(Preteen)

Chiron leaned over your shoulder, his warm hand on your back as he showed you how to adjust the bow and arrow. 

“Remember, don’t hold too tight.” He reminded you before stepping back. You nodded, focusing your eyes on the target before you. 

The wooden boards with rings of yellow and red were worn down by time and use. Countless little marks from weapons chipped away at the paint. Patroclus’ arrow was near the center.

Achilles’ arrow was dead center because of course that jerk would have perfect aim as well. 

You let out a breath, readied your aim…

”Come on! We know you won’t hit it.” Achilles taunted, no doubt grinning like the feral creature you knew he was. “Let's move on, I want lunch while the sun is still out.”

“Shut up. You are a bottomless pit.” You snapped back. Achilles might have been going to say something else but only grunted. You smirked, Patroclus must have smacked him.

‘Good.’ You thought, redid your grip then after a breathless moment, let it fly. The sunlight caught on the arrow head, making it gleam moments before it smacked right next to Achilles.

You stared in genuine surprise before letting out a cheer, turning around to see Achilles’ sour expression and crossed arms but Patroclus was already lifting you up, causing you and him to laugh.

Chiron gave you a proud nod and went over to the target, pulling over the arrows.

When Patroclus let you go, two hands ruffled your hair roughly. You tried to smack them away but Achilles was too quick, a flash of gold then he wrapped himself over you with a laugh.

“Fine.” He grumbled but he was laughing as well, tangling his hand in your hair much more gently this time. His eyes were as perfectly blue as the sky itself. He smiled, his teeth bright as a prideful lion. “I guess you can aim afterall.”

Winter

(Preteen)

It was Patroclus’ idea. 

The tree bark was large enough to hold all three, the wood thick  but you gave it another weary look as all three reached the top of the tallest part of the mountain . 

“Are we sure about this?” You asked as Patroclus dropped the makeshift sled onto the snow. Achilles nodded but it was Patroclus who spoke up. His dark eyes had a near manic gleam in them, letting you know he would not be easily swayed from this.

”Yes, besides, with all three of us on it, it should keep us from flying off.” He paused. “Like last time.”

You winced at the memory of deep bruises and cuts and Chrions’ loud, disapproving sigh. 

It took some time for everyone to find their spot. Right now you were bigger and weighed more but Achilles was already taller and with how much he could eat, it would be likely he would outpace you soon enough even if he wasn’t god-born. 

You ended up in the front, Achilles in the back. Somehow, like always, Patroclus was perfectly right in the middle of you and Achilles.

With a frown, you peered down, suddenly wishing you weren’t in the front. The hill suddenly seemed high as the gray skies.

“If we all push off, we can pick up speed.” Patroclus ordered, his hands slapping into the snow. Achilles let out a loud war cry as you began to panic, “Wait- wait wait-“

Just like all three shot down the steep slope, yelling loud enough to scare off the birds, their squawking loud in the wind. Snow flew around them, becoming like waves as they began going faster and after until everything was blur. 

Then suddenly, the sled caught onto something, a rock maybe and everyone went flying into the snow. You rolled and rolled, until you came to a stop, dizzying gray and brown mixing in your sight.

You tried to sit up but with a moan, you closed your eyes and fell back down.

A body landed on top of yours and you grunted. You scowled and opened your eyes to see that you were nose to nose with a surprised Patroclus. His dark eyes were deep as the night itself but like this, you saw the faint flakes of brown in his eyes, bringing a warmth to the darkness. 

You swallowed, suddenly very aware of his weight on top of you.

Patroclus blinked then sat up, his legs still around your waist and pumped two fists into the air, grinning so wildly he looked like Achilles. “Again!” 

You heard a loud cheer from Achilles who had stopped higher on the slope. You groaned as you covered your face in muted horror.

You were definitely going to be shaking hands with gods of the underworld before tonight at this rate.

~

Fatherhood

(underworld)

Of all the things that could have happened while you were apart from Achilles and Patroclus, you didn’t expect Achilles to unofficially adopt a godling, let alone one that was the prince of the underworld. 

“Lad, watch it.” Achilles scolded, but his warm laugh brushed any harshness away. He grabbed the fishing pole from Zagreus’ hand before the swinging hook could sink into someone’s flesh. 

“Here, watch me. This is how to properly cast a shot.” Achilles shifted on his feet, explaining to Zagreus what to do. 

You bit back a laugh, not wanting to ruin the bonding moment as you settled down onto the soft grass by Patroclus. 

Patroclus nudged you, letting you know he saw it as well, his own dark eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Should we get him a Father’s Day present?” You whispered as Patroclus pressed his leg against yours.

”I think that is Zagreus’ job, not ours.” Patroclus grinned as Achilles ducked away from Zagreus, not letting the prince take the fishing pole yet. You and Patroclus could only watch in quiet delight.

Achilles had been godlike, golden and sharp like the sun, untouched by moral hands on the battlefields with Patroclus as his faithful shadow. You had watched in quiet awe as your strategies unfurled into the deathly weapons you knew they were. 

“Careful.” Achilles warned. He had given Zagreus the pole back and the prince was trying his best to follow Achilles’ instructions, even beating his knees.

Only it went horribly wrong.

“Oh gods, I am so sorry, Sir Achilles.” Zagreus yelped as Achilles prodded at the fishing hook in his cheek. A part of you still expected him to get rageful like he always did when he got hurt.

But Achilles just patted Zagreus’ shoulder, his handsome face twisted into a grimace. “It’s okay, lad. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

Patroclus scoffed, giving your cheek a kiss, his beard pleasurably rough against your skin before standing up. “Don’t yank on it like that, both of you I swear.” Patroclus warned with an eyeroll when Achilles whimpered.

Afterwards, they attempted it again, Achilles’ voice still patient with the apologic prince. 

Who knew that fatherhood would suit Achilles so well?

~

WarHorse

(underworld)

“A bloody horse- you have to be kidding me.” You growled as Odysseus laughed once more. You glanced at Achilles and Patroclus and you knew by their faces that Odysseus for once in his life wasn’t lying. 

“And they fell for it too!” Odysseus laughed, patting you on your back as you grabbed your drink. “They just let us come right in. Like complete idiots!”

“A goddamn horse.” You swore, taking a deep drink before hitting the table in outrage. “A HORSE!”

“See, I told you he didn’t need to know.” Patroclus hissed to Achilles. He only shrugged, waving off Patroclus’ concerns. 

“He would have found out eventually.” Achilles reasoned, kissing Patroclus’ cheek. “Besides, I think he is actually taking the news pretty well. Nothing on fire and he hasn't punched Odysseus in the face.”

”Yet. Haven’t punched him yet.” You grumbled. They stared at you a single moment before they broke into loud laughter. 

You ignored their mocking laughter, ordering more drinks for the group from a passing shade.

A goddamn wooden horse. What the in the hades. 

~

Growth

(underworld)

Getting anything from the surface cost a pretty penny and you winced when you saw the total. You and Achilles shared a glance before both handed over their hardwon coins. 

“With the roots, Patroclus might be able to grow them.” You said, gently lifting up the mint to check over the roots for any sign of rot. In the basket, there was ST. John's wort, sage, yarrow and a handful more of medical herbs. 

Patroclus was the plant expert, not you. You merely obeyed his every command and were thankful for it.

“I hope so.” Achilles sighed as you placed it back in the basket. Thankfully all the plants looked healthy. “I know we don't need it but I think it will be the thing to perk him up.”

Smiles from Patroclus were considerably rarer these days. Not that you could blame him. None of them were young, foolish boys under Chiron's protection. 

Those days were long gone.

“I know that expression.” Achilles warned, giving you a knowing look. You huffed, and began walking down the path with Achilles by your side. At some point, Achilles had learned patience but you knew from his stare that he was waiting for you to speak. 

It was an odd thing, what stays and what goes. 

Achilles was different, Patroclus was different but you still felt like that fool who thought he could defy the gods. 

“I’m happy we are all together once more. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.” You told him with a sigh, your hand brushing against his. “But…”

”It is different.” Achilles whispered. “Yet it is not.”

”Yes.” You agreed.

Achilles grabbed your hand, and gave a squeeze. You returned it.

Once they revealed the surprise gift to Patroclus, he said nothing for a long moment. His lips parted, then he gave a quiet chuckle. 

“You know no one needs medicine, not down here.” Patroclus took the basket, his fingers brushing against the yarrow. His eyes had gone shiny. You and Achilles shared a glance.

”Zagreus.” You said suddenly, “I’m sure he would appreciate it.” 

“Yes.” Achilles rushed to agree, pulling Patroclus closer in for a one arm hug. He and you were both nodding like fools but a beautiful, perfect smile was forming on Patroclus’ face.

“Thank you.” He said with a laugh, kissing Achilles. Achilles hummed, deepening the kiss after a moment, cupping Patroclus’ nape.

“Hey.”  You complained mildly, not really minding the sight. “It was my idea.” 

That broke their kiss and you went willingly when they pulled you closer into the circle. Patroclus kissed you first, his lips soft against yours. Then after that one, Achilles quickly came in, grabbing your chin with gentle fingers, greedy for his own kiss. 

A few days later, the plants were already growing in the gentle lights of Elysium.

~

Plans

(underworld)

When the prince arrived on one of his visits, you couldn’t help noticing his limp. And the fact there was black smoke coming off of him. You took a slow sip of your wine as he limped upward to you and Patroclus.

Achilles was on house duty so it was just you and Patroclus.

“Patroclus, beloved.” You called out over your shoulder, “You might want to get the first aid kit.” You took another look at the prince who looked ready to drop dead right where he was. “And maybe some food?”

Zagreus moaned, swaying to the right then to the left before he fell forward, and you caught the back of his tunic, barely keeping his face from smacking the ground. With a rueful sigh, you chugged the rest of your drink and tossed it to the side before dragging him closer to Patroclus.

Later, with his face cleaned off and Patroclus peering over a deep bite mark on Zagreus’ leg, he was trying to explain his plan. It was heavy hitters and nothing for Zagreus’s natural talent. 

“Did you do anything for speed, lad?” You crossed your arms. “Remember, you aren’t a tank, you need to focus on your speed. Your speed is also your defense.”

Zagreus huffed, “No, my good sir. I wanted to try something new since my father had been trying these different pact of punishment-“

”Pact of punishment?” You frowned. “What in the world is that?” 

“Oh that right. I didn’t tell you.” Zagreus began to explain everything, and you frowned as you listened. Patroclus shot you then Zagreus an amused glance as he stood. 

“Have fun.” He said, brushing a hand down your back before he left you and Zagreus to it. You nodded, waving an absent minded hand as Zagreus kept talking.

“Alright- have you tried…”

~

Rest

(underworld)

The quiet sound of footsteps told you that Achilles had returned from his house duties. You propped yourself on your elbow, Patroclus tucked against your chest, so deeply asleep that not the booming roar of the Hydra could wake him.

Achilles yawned, placing his spear to the side before he began to untie his sandals. His golden hair caught the light, gleaming like sunlight. You took the moment to admire him, the broad shoulders and easy grace.

You covered Patroclus’ ear, even though you knew he wouldn’t wake up and spoke quietly into the peace. ”Welcome home.” 

Achilles sighed, a soft grin on his face as he looked down at you and Patroclus. “Glad to be back.” 

When Achilles finally joined you and Patroclus in bed, you were surprised that he decided to curl behind your back, tossing a heavy arm over your waist. You and Achilles had long agreed that Patroclus was the more comfortable one to cuddle.

His mouth brushed against your nape. You shivered, goosebumps forming. You turned your head, accepting a chaste kiss from him. 

“Sorry for waking you.” Achilles whispered, his voice rumbling through you. “Go to sleep. Or Patroclus will lecture both of us.” 

“Alright.” You agreed quietly. Patroclus sighed in his sleep, tucking himself deeper into your arms. 

Together, they all slept, tangled together like vines. 

[hyacinthi-mortem]

Anderperry fluff- wizard!Neil

I wrote most of this while in the car lol, I hope u enjoy :p

Info:

• this au is set 10 years later than the original dps, so they would've gone to hellton in 1969, I wanted to be able to use Bowie

• songs used are Lady Stardust and Soul Love by David Bowie

• there's another wizard!Neil au post that will help the first part make a bit more sense if you haven't already seen it but it's not necessary to understand this

——————————————————————————

June 1974

The smell of fresh pancakes wafting through the air shakes Todd from his sleepy daze, and he stumbles out of bed, drawing the blanket closer like an oversized cloak as he walks towards the door, and watches as a tendril of soft blue light flips the record over and gently sets it down, the needle falling into place, and listens for the sound of static taking over the silence before the first notes of a song invade Neil's brain, mixing with the magic flowing through his veins as he cooks.

On the windowsill Neil's cat Oberon basks in the sunlight, fur shining a coppery brown, and the golden blur cast across the kitchen highlighting the warm yellows of the walls against the pale greens of tiles, a harsh shadow cast against the backsplash behind Neil as he sways, a soft smile gracing his lips.

A gentle blue light surrounds the bowl of batter and pours it into the cast iron pan resting on the stove, as Neil begins to chop fruit, the sweet smell lingering in the air, quietly singing along as he does.

'People stared, at the makeup on his face, laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace...'

Todd smiles, leaning on the doorframe as he listens to neil sing, and the soft hum of his magic fills his senses. In that moment, to him, the air feels alive, electricity pulsing through it and settling around him; he can almost imagine tendrils and coils of warm blue light reaching towards him, embracing him, and drawing him in deeper, and deeper, until he is surrounded by it, by the part of Neil he could never have believed was real.

'That maybe there was a chance Neil could, the boy he could never have believed would maybe, just maybe love him like that too.'

'...Boys stood upon their chairs

To make their point of view

I smiled sadly for a love

I could not obey

Lady Stardust sang his songs

Of darkness and dismay...'

He relaxes, and as he watches the scene unfold Oberon steps down from his perch, and pads over to Todd, bringing Neil's attention with him. And even after all this time, in the soft light Todd thinks he can see the hawthorn crown gracing Neil's head, the summer sun lighting up his face and bringing with it a sparkle in his eyes that feels like all the stars in the sky are shining just for him.

"Todd! I didn't see you there, I-"

Neil smiles, a sheepish grin plastered on his face as he realised he's been caught.

"This was supposed to be a surprise." He laughs, and walks over to Todd, brushing the soft blond hair from his eyes as he leads him into the kitchen, humming along to the music in the background.

"Well who wouldn't love to wake up to you cooking breakfast" Todd smiles as Neil brushes the hair off his face, and if he notices his fingertips linger just a moment longer than they usually would be doesn't let it slip.

He pulls a chair out and lets the blanket slip from his shoulders as Neil turns the stove off, bringing to the table plates laden with berries and pancakes, and the blue haze of his magic surrounding them slowly disappears into the morning.

Conversation fills the air as they eat, and he just can't get enough of that soft lilt to Neil's voice, Todd could hear him talk for hours on end, letting the feeling of contentment wash over him like magic, as he gazes into those caramel eyes

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

Curled up on an armchair after a long day of dealing with customers, Todd sips at a cup of peppermint tea, steam fogging up his reading glasses when he lifts the mug to his face. After setting the tea down he takes the glasses off, rubbing the sleeve of his (Neil's) jumper over the lenses; watching over the top of his book as Neil sets up the record player, as he lifts the needle and drops it in place, listening for the faint crackle before a song begins to play.

Once again music fills the room, various candles dotted around flicker to life, and Todd relaxes, the faint glow of candlelight setting his mind at ease.

"Dance with me?"

He glances up in surprise as Neil stands in front of him, a hand outstretched that he takes with ease-

"Always."

As he's led into the center of the room, book abandoned on the side, the music gets louder, the soft blue light of Neil's magic surrounding them as Neil's arms wrap around Todd's waist, while they begin to sway together, the evening slowly fading away as they dance and sing, Todd's eyes reflecting the golden stars that are blinking into existence above their heads, stars that are just for him,he thinks, as he smiles and leans into Neil's gentle embrace listening to him sing along, voices merging together in the flickering light until they collapse to the floor, exhausted, and lay together, a tangled pile of legs and arms with his head on Neil's chest listening to his heartbeat while the record plays along into the night.

'New love, a boy and girl are talking

New words, that only they can share in

New words, a love so strong it tears their hearts

To sleep through the fleeting hours of morning'

Todd thinks, 'maybe, just maybe, in this moment they could live forever.'

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

[lilyoffandoms]

Choices Writer Appreciation 2023: Week One

Here is our list of lovely fics that we’re reblogged this week with the reader’s comments. Enjoy!

@aallotarenunelma

Bathed in Sunlight

Indigo Night

Of Stardust & Light

One More Light

@coffeeheartaddict2

Can’t Help Falling In Love

Could It Be?

Power to Overcome

@jerzwriter

All In The Past (Part 1 Part 2 Part 3)

A Mother’s Journal

Part 1: In The Beginning (Part 2 Part 3 Part 4)

…and you have me

Wanna Bet?

@karahalloway

A Leviathan Surprise

Camping Was Intense (2nd reblog)

@ladylamrian

Bound By Fate

Ma Chérie

When Hunters Become Prey

@mydemonsdrivealimo

Late Nights

Run, Run

Your Love

@peonyblossom

Donahue’s

Forever Sounds Perfect

get it off your chest

What If It’s Now?

We’re Gonna Get Married

you’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you

@petiteboheme

A Moment Captured

Applewood

Familia

@storyofmychoices

Detention II

Detention XIV: The Warmth of the Sun

Double Date

Unicorn Wishes & Mermaid Kisses

@tessa-liam

All Is Fair in Love and War

October Weekend Retreat

Smoke and Mirrors

The Morning After, October Weekend Retreat

@trappedinfanfiction

A Crash With Fate

A New Neighbor

A Shooting Star

In The Beginning

Kiss it Better

Marooned

What’s In A Name?

Keep the reblogs coming and if I missed yours please let me know so I can reblog it and add it to the list.

[oddinarylani]

7:12 am. lee felix. i belong nowhere but in your arms. 

he was impeccable. truthful, in beauty. irreplaceable - your heart strings pull vicious. you’re swallowed with adoration, soft like a blanket it swallows you into a timeless embrace. there was a place, inside your mind, where you could dance. dance. and be. stardust falls from the sky in glittery pillows and tufts. the stars hand him their essence, soft hands - glowing and warm to the touch. they smile upon him, thanking him. and their knuckles run over the swells of his cheeks, the tender bridge of his nose, and intermingle with the hair in his brow. you imagine he’d sat up from bed, his hand planted firmly to still him in his place - and he’d stroke the stars in the sky, their cheeks, their brow, and they would place their sweetness on his cheeks. “there’s many of us.” they’d say. frozen in great form over his eyes that shine with their light. “we’re with you.” and there they lasted, on his cheeks, his shoulders, his nose. sprinkles of starlight they left with him, and even now, you smile at the thought. 

the stars have left, but the sun embraces them in it’s warmth, promising to take care of the horizon while they were away. your legs remain comfortably burrowed in the white of his comforter, your elbow keeping you propped at his side dutifully. he sleeps sweetly; even like this he remained utterly perfect. in his dreams you’d hold him still, ever awaiting your arms with a promise. cuts of warm sunlight speak in fractals on the ground and over the bed where you both lay. a single shred peaks out from beyond the blinds, it’s thin length stretches over his jaw, cupping it with grace - and the warmth in his skin beams. “even the sun wishes to greet you.” you smile, raising your wrist with purpose as your gaze washes over him. with a tremorous hand you place your thumb on the cut of sunlight, meeting it’s touch on his face and stroking it lovingly. 

your cup overflows for him. your heart swells, throbs, and swallows your inside whole. what were you to do, what were you to do. it was hopeless really; the yield of love you held for him. it spills over, like a kitchen sink of cool water. breathing cannot soothe the ache within the confines of your ribcage - though you breathe in hopes of calming it. with every ounce of your being you’re afraid. you can’t let him go. you couldn’t. 

your eyes tremble over his sleeping form. every time you look at him. every single time. you feel the urge to just cry. beautiful wasn’t the word, no. you must do him the justice of finding something greater. you exhale, the sun is beginning to grow in it’s golden hue. he stirs in his sleep. 

“what am i to do?” you smile, the corners of your mouth wrinkling tenderly as you stroke his cheek again. as sleep leaves him with a soft goodbye, his arm stretches beneath the covers, reaching blindly for any purchase of you he could find, and rests his hand on the swell of your hip, eyes fluttering - stunning. 

you lean forward, pressing your lips to his forehead between his gentle brow. he closes his eyes at the feeling, his body rolling to press close to you. “home.” you mutter against him. 

“you’re home…” he mumbles. 

your arm stretches over him, the crinkle of the bed like music. the sun now stretches over your arm, in it’s fractal you feel it’s warmth, and wish it a soft good morning at it’s own sweetness. you lay into the bed, not for a moment able to deny him of the safety of your arms - that of a promise. your eyes gloss over, your lips fight a losing battle to not tremble. 

“i love you, but…” you swallow, he stretches his arms around your waist, his face tucking tenderly into the soft skin of your neck - his breath washing over your skin. “that would never be enough to say.” he presses his lips to the flesh of your jaw.

“you. that’s enough.”

[lotus-tower]

okay, so here's my post digging into kirimusubi, one of the songs DOES did for gintama the final.

this is largely based on two existing translations (turn on english CC for the video), both of which i compared carefully and supplemented with my meagre understanding of japanese and some research.

both translations are generally pretty good, with the tumblr one (not sure where it's originally from) being more literal and the youtube video one smoothing the words to sound a bit more natural. one or the other seems more accurate in different places. here's more or less what i believe the lyrics to mean, with a priority over conveying meaning:

The stardust in the night sky that I look up at is always Beyond the silver dream In order to regain the old bond that I lost/was lost We have been trying to wash away even red-dyed fate And kept searching And finally got here in that hollow sunlight We swore that we would never let go of each other again [kiri musubu], shedding tears at the unruly/rough tenderness/kindness In order to love, we must continue forward on this path no matter what The stardust in the night sky that I look up at is always Beyond the silver dream If you're going to bitterly abandon yourself and go mad Why not live an upright life that's like you? (as in, when people say "That's just like you" or "that's not like you") With wounds/scars in our chests, Let's walk, then laugh like brats again So that one day, our shadows will meet again [A cry from the underbelly of my blazing soul] or [A blazing cry from the underbelly of my soul] (where "ura" is used, as in ura and omote, to denote the "other side" of the stomach) Engraves the proof that we once lived together in this place The destination of our messing around is always Beyond the silver dream If you'll do anything to protect someone, Raise your fist [kiri musubu], shedding tears at the unruly/rough tenderness/kindness In order to love, we must continue forward on this path no matter what A cry from the underbelly of my blazing soul Engraves the proof that we once lived together in this place The destination of our messing around is always Beyond the silver dream

so. there's a LOT to unpack here. but first, let's address the lyric i left untranslated, which is also the title of the song: kiri musubi. so what does this term actually mean?

literally speaking, these words mean "cut" and "tie." you might recognize kiri as a different form of "kiru." interestingly, the video translator translated it as "in the clashing swords." i'm not sure this actually has basis in anything, but it's a neat thought.

see, the title of the song is almost certainly an inversion of musubi kiri, a specific kind of knot in the japanese tradition of knot-tying, mizuhiki. what does this knot signify? well...

"a knot that's difficult to loosen once it's been tied" brings to mind the way that shouka sonjuku trio describe the bonds between them. for example when they're complaining about it in the beginning of the final (ch 699):

this is just one of the many terms used in the song that evokes a specific moment or line of dialogue in gintama. for example, "raise your fist" and

but i digress. the shocking truth is that the song's title, and part of the lyrics in its chorus, deliberately invokes a marriage and funeral simultaneously. "tying the knot" and "cutting the knot," literally. in case you didn't think the movie-original sakura blossom boat scene was enough.

that's not all, though. because i would argue that the words being inverted--kiri musubi rather than musubi kiri--alongside the other lyrics imply that rather than "a wish for something to only happen once," the song is expressing a wish for something to happen once more. "to regain the old bond that was lost" and "that we once lived together in this place" make it pretty clear what's being implied, i think.

and yet, kiri means to cut. it means to snip away that difficult-to-loosen knot. and the rest of that line is about shedding tears at a violent kindness, a kindness that must be performed no matter how difficult because. if you'll do anything to protect someone, you'll even use their corpse, your sensei's corpse, as a stepping stone.

and the irony is pretty clear here too. the wish for something to only have to occur once--but this isn't the first time gintoki has had to cut down takasugi, or lose shouyou. so naturally, the words are inverted. that hope was dashed. the whole arc is a bizarre rehashing of their past. but in that happening, there's also opportunity for a different kind of wish. whatever your thoughts are on the writing choices for the final arc, this song seems like a sincere dedication to the emotions therein...

so like. what the fuck is up with that

[melanieathene]

Suptober 2023 Day 9 - Starlight

“Star light, star bright, first star I've seen tonight; wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”

“That's not a star, Dean. It's a planet. Venus.”

“Shaddup, brainiac,” Dean muttered. “It's called the evening star, isn't it?”

“Yeah, but it still isn't a star. It doesn't burn, it merely reflects the light of the sun.”

“The sun is a star.”

“Yes.”

“Sunlight is a kind of starlight.”

“Your point being?”

“That's good enough. It's valid to make a wish on it.”

“I give up!” Sam tossed his hands in the air.

Silence reigned as the brothers continued walking.

“So,” Sam said, long moments later. “What did you wish for, Dean?”

“What?”

“You heard me. What's your wish?”

“I wish my brother wasn't such a giant pain in the ass.”

“Dean!”

I wish we weren't schlepping through a stinking swamp. I wish my feet were dry. I wish you hadn't eaten those burritos for lunch. I wish – ”

“I'm sorry I asked.”

“I wish we were hunting a clown instead of a rugaru.”

“Now you're just being mean.”

“Don't ask stupid questions, then.”

Silence. In the distance a lonely frog croaked. A heavy mist began to rise, obscuring the trail they followed.

“I thought,” Sam said haughtily, “you might have wished for something useful.”

“Like world peace?”

“Like the successful end to this hunt. Or maybe for Cas to return.”

“Cas? Why would I wish for Cas?”

“Well, you two have been joined at the hip lately. Actually, you have been for some time. What's up with that, anyway?”

“Nothing! We're friends. Just friends!”

“Hmph,” Sam snorted. “More like boyfriends. I thought you were going to burst into tears when he said he'd be away for a week. Did you at least get a kiss goodbye?”

“I wish you'd – ”

“Too late! You've already used up today's wish.”

“Is this how seasoned hunters sneak up on a rugaru? I could hear you bickering a mile away.” A gravelly voice startled the brothers, sending their hands scrambling for weapons, until their brains registered who the speaker was.

“Cas!” Dean said. There was no denying the joy in his voice.

Sam smirked.

“I heard your prayer, Dean. I returned from Heaven as soon as I could. You can head home now. I took care of the rugaru.”

“So you did wish for Cas!”

“Fuck off, Sam.”

“I knew it!”

“So help me, Sam...”

“Sam is right, you know,” Castiel said, as more pinpricks of light began to dot the darkening sky. “Venus is not a star. But you don't need to seek out a star to summon me. All you have to do is call my name.”

“Awww,” Sam cooed.

“I am made of starlight; you are made of stardust. This is why we are drawn together: two halves that together are complete.”

“Hey, I'm stardust too – the entire planet is stardust.”

“True, Sam. But Dean's stardust is especially attractive to me.”

Dean tripped over a root and was saved from landing in a puddle only by Castiel's swift hand.

“And I did kiss you,” the angel continued. “I don't know how Sam knew that. We were quite discreet.”

“Cas!”

“Your brother is an enthusiastic, but surprisingly quiet lover. Perhaps, now that you know about us, Sam, I can convince him to become more vocal.”

Sam burst into uncontrollable laughter. “I wish I could see your face right now, Dean,” he howled.

“I wish you both would shut the hell up,” Dean growled, stalking off in what he hoped was the right direction.

But of course, as he knew only too well, not every wish comes true.

And it was a long walk back to the Impala.