#get your kookie fix

[always-is-always]

LOVE THIS. It's just so freakin' cool. I'm so proud of our Kookie.

Just when I had moved into a better level of "comfort", of having them away and in the military... This drops today.

It's like a healing and soothing offering of Medicine for the Heart. Yeah. That's what this video does for me.

I didn't know I needed it. lol....

In case you haven't seen it yet, here you go! 💜🐰💜

[onlyforyoukook]

Let’s make a movie | JJK

paring: jungkook x fem¡reader

synopsis: you suggested the idea, to make a sex tape with jungkook.

genre: one shot„smut„non idol au

wc 4.4k

their playlist 🙃: dollhouse - the weeknd & lily rose depp, for me? - asal, nice & slow - usher, anytime, anyplace - janet jackson, pony - ginuwine, earned it - the weeknd, or nah - the weeknd, skin - rihanna, when we - tank

WARNINGS: MDNI. filming, oral (m & f receiving), cum swallowing, pet names, aftercare.

You're sitting in your living room, snuggled up on the couch with Jungkook, watching TV. The credits of a movie roll on the screen, and you turn to him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Hey, Kookie,” you say, a playful tone in your voice. “I have an idea.”

Jungkook turns to look at you, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Oh yeah?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. “And what idea might that be?”

You lean in closer to him, a sly smile on your lips.

“Let's make a sex tape” you whisper in his ear, your voice low and seductive.

Jungkook's eyes widen slightly at your suggestion, clearly not expecting that.

“A sex tape?” he repeats, a hint of surprise in his voice. “Are you serious?”

You nod, your smile turning even more mischievous.

“Yeah, why not?” you say, your voice low. “It could be fun, and we could keep it just for us.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment, considering your suggestion. He looks at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

“I don't know, babe,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Isn't that kind of risky? What if someone else sees it?”

You chuckle softly at Jungkook's concern, finding his protectiveness endearing.

“Babe, relax” you say, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Nobody will see it unless one of us decides to show it to someone, and it'll be on a camera, so it's not like it's just going to be floating around out there.”

Jungkook looks at you for a moment, considering your words. He knows you have a point, and he can't deny the idea is kind of exciting.

“Okay, fair enough” he says, his expression softening. “But we have to be careful with it, alright? No one else can see it, and we need to keep it hidden somewhere safe.”

You get up from the couch and head to the bedroom, where you have a camera stashed away in a drawer. You grab it and return to the living room, where Jungkook is waiting for you.

“Ready?” you ask, holding up the camera with a playful grin.

"Definitely ready," he says, his voice low and husky.

Jungkook grins back at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation. He gets up from the couch and follows you to the bedroom, his steps a little more eager than usual.

Once you're both in the bedroom, you set the camera up on a tripod facing the bed. You adjust the angle and make sure it's capturing the entire bed and everything that will happen on it. Jungkook watches you intently, leaning against the wall and watching as you fiddle with the camera settings. He can feel his excitement building, his heart rate increasing with each passing second.

Once you're satisfied with the camera setup, you turn to Jungkook with a sultry smile. He pushes himself off the wall and walks over to you, his eyes fixed on yours. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. He looks down at you, his expression full of desire and anticipation.

“So, where do we start?” he asks, his voice low and husky in your ear.

You run your hands up Jungkook's chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. You look up at him, your eyes locked on his.

“Right here” you whisper, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “Let's get these clothes off.”

Jungkook grins at your suggestion, his hands already moving to remove his shirt. He pulls it off in one swift motion, revealing his toned abs and muscular arms. He stands there in front of you, shirtless and radiating confidence. He runs a hand through his messy hair, his eyes roaming over your body.

Jungkook steps closer to you, his body mere inches from yours. He reaches out and grabs your hips, pulling you against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He leans down, his lips hovering just above yours.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. You shiver slightly at his words, your body responding to his touch and proximity. You look up at him, your eyes filled with desire and need.

“I think I have an idea” you reply, your voice a bit shaky. “Because I want you just as badly”

Without hesitation, Jungkook closes the remaining distance between you and captures your lips in a heated kiss. His lips are soft yet demanding, and he wastes no time deepening the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, exploring and claiming you as his own. He pulls you even closer, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he devours your mouth with his. He breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down your jawline and neck, nipping and sucking on your sensitive skin.

Jungkook lifts you up with ease, his strong arms effortlessly supporting your weight. He carries you over to the bed, his lips never leaving your skin. He gently sets you down on the edge of the bed, his hands already moving to remove your shirt. He pulls it over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. He looks down at you, taking in the sight of your bare torso, his eyes dark with desire. He reaches for the waistband of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them and sliding them down your legs, leaving you in just your panties.

Once your pants are off, Jungkook kneels down in front of you. He runs his hands up your thighs, his touch gentle. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with desire as he leans in and begins to trail kisses down your body. He starts at your stomach, his lips moving slowly and deliberately over your skin. He presses kisses along your hips, nipping and sucking on the sensitive flesh as he works his way lower.

Jungkook reaches your panties, and he gently slides them to the side, exposing your most intimate parts. He looks up at you one more time, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself between your legs. He leans in, his warm breath hitting your skin as he moves closer to your center. He gives your inner thighs a few gentle kisses before focusing his attention on your clit. He licks a slow, deliberate stripe up your slit, tasting you and savoring the moment.

Jungkook moans against you as he continues to lick and tease your clit, his tongue swirling and flicking against the sensitive bud. He looks up at you again, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks between kisses.

“You taste so good, baby” he says, his voice low and hoarse.

Jungkook moves his hands to grip your hips, holding you in place as he begins to lick and suck on your clit in earnest. He uses his tongue and lips to drive you wild, determined to make you feel as good as possible. He alternates between slow, firm strokes and rapid, flicking motions, always keeping a watchful eye on your reactions to gauge what you like the most.

You can't help but moan and arch your back at the feeling of Jungkook's tongue on you. The sight of him between your legs, looking up at you with such desire and determination, is almost too much to bear. You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair, needing something to hold onto as he works his magic on you.

“Oh god, Jungkook” you gasp, your voice shaky and filled with pleasure. “That feels so good”

Jungkook picks up the pace, knowing that you're getting close. He focuses his attention solely on your clit, his tongue moving in tight, circular motions. He uses his lips and suction to add to the sensation, creating a delicious friction that has you writhing beneath him. He looks up at you again, his eyes dark with lust as he notices the signs of your impending orgasm. He keeps going, not letting up for a second, wanting to make sure you cum hard and long on his tongue.

You can feel your orgasm building, the heat and tension coiling tighter and tighter in your lower belly. Jungkook's relentless attention to your clit is driving you wild, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.

You tug on his hair harder, unable to form words as you moan and whimper under his ministrations. Your body is tense, every muscle straining as you approach your climax.

With one final flick of his tongue against your clit, you're sent hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, washing over you in waves of intense pleasure. You arch your back and cry out, your fingers clenching tightly in Jungkook's hair as your body spasms and shudders with release. He keeps his mouth on you, lapping up every drop of your juices as you cum hard on his tongue. You lay there, panting and gasping for breath as you come down from your high. Your body is still tingling from the intense orgasm, and you can feel the sweat cooling on your skin.

Jungkook lifts his head, looking up at you with a satisfied smirk. He licks his lips, savoring the taste of you. As you start to catch your breath, you suddenly remember the camera. You glance over at it, still perched on the tripod, and an idea forms in your mind.

You slowly sit up, still a bit shaky from your orgasm. You look down at Jungkook, who is still kneeling between your legs, and smile.

“Hey,” you say, your voice a bit hoarse. “Get up for a sec.”

Jungkook looks up at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. He raises an eyebrow, but does as you ask and gets up from the floor.

“What's up?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

You stand up as well, and you take a step towards the camera. You can feel Jungkook's eyes on you as you walk, his gaze following your every move. You pick up the camera from the tripod, adjusting the focus and making sure it's still recording.

You turn to face Jungkook, camera in hand. He's standing there, watching you with a mixture of anticipation and desire. You hold the camera out to him, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Here” you say, gesturing for him to take the camera. “You get to be the director for this part.”

Jungkook grins and takes the camera from you, adjusting it in his hands as he prepares to record. He looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your naked body as you crawl towards him on the bed.

You make your way up the bed, stopping when you're kneeling between Jungkook's legs. You reach out and hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down over his hips. Jungkook lets out a low groan as his cock springs free, finally released from the confines of his underwear. He adjusts the camera, making sure to get a good angle as you settle between his legs.

You settle yourself between Jungkook's legs, your eyes locked on his hard cock. It's long and thick, already hard and throbbing for you. You reach out and wrap your hand around the base, giving it a gentle squeeze. You look up at Jungkook through your lashes, a small smile on your face as you start to tease him. Jungkook's breath hitches as you begin to tease him, his eyes darkening with desire. He holds the camera steady, focusing it on your face and your hand wrapped around his cock.

He lets out a low, strained groan as you give him a few slow, deliberate strokes, your fingers trailing up and down his length. You look up at Jungkook again, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Without warning, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

Jungkook lets out a low moan, his grip on the camera tightening as he watches you take him into your mouth. He adjusts the angle of the camera slightly, making sure to get a good view of your lips wrapped around his cock.

You slowly begin to bob your head up and down, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth with each movement. You keep your eyes locked on his face, watching as pleasure washes over his features. Jungkook lets out a string of curses, his breathing ragged and uneven as he struggles to keep the camera steady. He looks like he's struggling to hold on, his entire body tense with arousal. Jungkook watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face as you suck him off. He lets out a shaky breath, his voice low and rough.

“Fuck, baby” he groans. “Your mouth feels so good.”

You continue to work his cock with your mouth, using your tongue to swirl around the tip and apply just the right amount of suction. You can feel him getting closer and closer to the edge, his breathing becoming more and more erratic. Jungkook's free hand tangles in your hair, his fingers gripping tightly as he tries to hold on. He looks like he's struggling to keep control, his body tense and his jaw clenched tight.

Jungkook lets out another string of curses, his words coming out in a jumbled mess as he gets more and more worked up. He's practically panting now, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.

“I'm not gonna last much longer” he grits out, his voice strained. “You're driving me crazy baby.”

You can tell that Jungkook is close to cumming. His body is taut, his muscles tense as he struggles to hold on just a little longer. You increase your efforts, bobbing your head faster and taking him deeper into your throat. Jungkook's grip on your hair tightens even more, his fingers pulling slightly as he tries to control the urge to thrust up into your mouth. He's panting heavily now, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. Finally, with a strangled cry, he reaches his peak. He throws his head back, his eyes squeezed shut as he lets out a stream of hot cum into your mouth. You swallow his cum, taking everything he has to give. You continue to lick and suck at his sensitive cock, wanting to make sure you've milked every last drop out of him.

Once he's finished, you pull back and sit up. You look down at him, a satisfied smirk on your face as you admire the wrecked expression on his face. Jungkook is still catching his breath, his chest heaving as he tries to recover from his intense orgasm. He looks up at you with a dazed expression, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and awe.

You straddle Jungkook's hips, settling yourself on top of him. You can feel his cock twitching against your inner thigh, still slick with your saliva and his cum. Jungkook lets out a low groan as he feels your weight on top of him. He reaches out and grips your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to ground himself.

“You're going to be the death of me” he murmurs, his voice still shaky from his earlier orgasm. You smirk at him, clearly enjoying the effect you have on him. You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes to bring it back to full hardness.

Jungkook lets out a strangled moan, his eyes fluttering closed as he arches up into your touch. He's still sensitive from his orgasm, but his cock responds eagerly to your ministrations, hardening once again under your skilled hand.

You position yourself above Jungkook's cock, the tip brushing against your entrance. You can feel how wet you are, your own arousal having been heightened by pleasuring him. Jungkook's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he watches you prepare to take him in. He looks up at you with a mixture of anticipation and desperation, his eyes dark and hungry.

You slowly sink down onto Jungkook's cock, taking him inch by inch until he's fully sheathed inside you. You let out a low moan as you adjust to his size, feeling the delicious stretch as your body stretches to accommodate him. Jungkook groans in response, his hands sliding up from your hips to your waist. He watches as you begin to ride him, his eyes glued to the place where your bodies are connected. He lifts one hand from your waist and grabs your breast, squeezing it firmly as he records you with his other hand.

Jungkook looks up at you, his eyes dark, as he watches you ride him. He squeezes your breast again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

“You're taking me so good, baby” he groans, his voice low and rough. “You feel so tight and wet around me”

You lean forward slightly, giving Jungkook a better view of your body as you ride him. You let out a breathy moan as you grind your hips down against his, taking him even deeper inside you.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you reply, your voice low and sultry. “Your cock fills me up so perfectly, love having inside of me.”

As soon as the word “daddy” leaves your lips, Jungkook's grip on you tightens even more. His eyes flash with something primal, and he lets out a low growl in response. He suddenly sits up, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. He buries his face in your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he inhales deeply.

“Say it again” he growls in your ear. “Call me daddy again baby.”

You let out a shaky breath as Jungkook's arms wrap around you, pulling you close. You can feel his chest pressed against yours, his heart beating rapidly against your skin. You tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. You know what he wants to hear, and you're more than happy to oblige.

“Daddy” you repeat, your voice low and breathy. “My daddy.”

Jungkook lets out a growl as you call him “daddy” again. He moves his mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. He sucks hard, his teeth grazing against your skin as he marks you with a dark hickey. He pulls back slightly to admire his handiwork, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“That's right” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Jungkook lays back down, holding the camera steady, recording as you begin to bounce up and down on his cock. He watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face as you move on top of him. He adjusts the angle of the camera slightly, making sure to capture every moment. He wants to remember this, wants to be able to watch it back and relive it over and over again.

As you ride Jungkook, you can feel your orgasm approaching. The pleasure is building inside you, each movement of your hips sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You start to move faster, chasing your high as you grind down on his cock. You can feel him getting close again too, his grip on you tightening as he tries to hold on.

Jungkook lets out a low moan as he feels his second orgasm approaching. He watches you, his eyes dark and intense, as you ride him with increasing urgency. Suddenly, he can't hold back any longer. He lets out a groan as he comes, his hips bucking up into you as he spills inside you. As soon as he finishes, he quickly turns you over onto your stomach. He pushes your hair out of the way and grabbing the camera, ready to record your next position.

Jungkook moves behind you, positioning himself between your legs. He grabs your hips and lifts them slightly, giving him a better angle to slide into you from behind.

He doesn't waste any time, immediately starting to thrust into you at a relentless pace. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, using the leverage to drive his cock even deeper inside you.

As Jungkook pounds into you from behind, he lets out a low growl and leans down to your ear.

“Who does this pussy belong to baby?” he demands, his voice rough and possessive. “Say it.”

You let out a gasp as Jungkook hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, and it takes you a moment to form a coherent response.

“It's yours daddy” you manage to say, your voice shaky. “My pussy belongs to you. It's all yours. All for you.”

Jungkook grins at your response, clearly pleased by your words. He releases your wrists and slides one hand down to your lower back, rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“That's right baby," he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You're my good girl. You know who you belong to, don't you?”

You nod, your head bobbing up and down as you try to focus on Jungkook's words. The feeling of him inside you, filling you up so completely, is making it hard to think straight.

“Yes daddy” you manage to gasp out. “I'm your good girl. I belong to you. Only you.”

Jungkook's grin widens at your repeated affirmation. He leans down again, his chest pressed against your back, and nuzzles his face into your hair.

“Good girl” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “You're so good for me.“

As Jungkook continues to pound into you from behind, he remembers the camera in his hand. He lifts it up and focuses the lens on where your bodies are connected, capturing the sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy. He groans as he watches, completely captivated by the way your body takes him in. He leans back slightly, giving himself a better view.

“Fuck baby,” he mutters, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Your pussy is so beautiful. It looks so good taking my cock like this.”

Jungkook can't take his eyes off the camera screen, completely mesmerized by the sight of himself fucking you. He lets out a shaky breath as he continues to watch, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. He zooms in on your pussy, getting a close up shot of how your body stretches to accommodate his cock. He groans again, his voice thick with arousal.

“So tight...so wet...fuck...”

The sight of himself pounding into you on the camera screen is almost too much for Jungkook to handle. He can feel his third orgasm approaching rapidly, spurred on by the erotic sight of his cock disappearing into your tight, wet pussy. He groans again, his grip on the camera tightening as he struggles to keep himself together.

“Fuck, princess” he grits out. “I'm not gonna last much longer, you're driving me crazy.”

You hear Jungkook's words, and a smirk crosses your face as you realize how close he is to cumming. You clench your inner muscles around him, trying to push him over the edge.

“Cum for me, daddy” you gasp out, your voice laced with need. “I want to feel you cum inside me again.”

Jungkook lets out a strangled cry as he reaches his climax, his hips bucking wildly as he spills his hot cum deep inside you for the third time that night. At the same time, you feel your own orgasm wash over you, your body clenching and spasming around his cock as waves of pleasure course through you.

After a few moments of catching his breath, Jungkook slowly pulls out of you and sits up. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and adoration. He runs a hand through your hair, gently brushing it away from your face.

“Stay here baby” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'll be right back.”

He gets up from the bed and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the sound of water running as he starts running a bath for you both.

As Jungkook prepares the bath, you slowly sit up in bed and look around for the camera. You spot it lying on the bed beside you, and a mischievous grin spreads across your face. You pick up the camera and turn it towards yourself, zooming in on your face. You look thoroughly fucked, your hair a mess and your cheeks flushed from exertion. You turn the camera to capture the bed, focusing on the wet spots where you and Jungkook had been.

You pause for a moment, thinking about how far you and Jungkook have come in just a few hours. You never expected things to turn out this way, but you can't deny that it's been incredible. Jungkook walks back into the room, carrying a towel and a robe. He stops in his tracks when he sees you holding the camera, a smirk on your face. He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused by your antics.

“Whatcha doing baby?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

You hold up the camera and give Jungkook a sly grin.

“I'm recording the aftermath” you say, your voice laced with amusement. “I figured it would make for some interesting memories later on.”

Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head, clearly amused by your unabashed behavior.

“You're something else, you know that?” he says, as he walks over to the bed and helps you up. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

He leads you into the bathroom, where a warm, inviting bath is waiting for you both. He helps you into the tub, making sure you're comfortable before sliding in behind you.

As you and Jungkook settle into the warm water of the bath, you let out a contented sigh. You lean back against his chest, feeling completely relaxed and spent. Jungkook wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he gently runs a washcloth over your body. He takes his time, being extra careful as he cleans you up. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Jungkook speaks up.

“I think that's the most fun I've ever had in my life,” he says, his voice filled with satisfaction. You chuckle softly and nod in agreement, tilting your head back to look up at him.

“I think you're right,” you say, a small smile on your face. “It was definitely an experience I won't forget anytime soon.”

MASTERLIST

[rippersz]

𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

(Lilia Calderu x Fem!Witchy!Reader) (NSFW Themes; Mostly fluff) (~9.1k words)

You are Lilia Calderu's roommate. You celebrate Christmas. Also, you are so undeniably, completely, totally, hopelessly, unbelievably (but also very believably) in love with her. Poor you.

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

You wanted her. 

You wanted her so bad. 

Since the very day you met her, you wanted her. 

You wanted to hold her hand. You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to wake up next to her. 

Was that a crazy thing to say? A crazy thing to think? To want your boss/roommate like you wanted your boss/roommate? Maybe. Probably. But no one ever said matters of the heart led down a road of sanity��so how on Earth could you be blamed? 

Short answer: You couldn’t.

Not when the woman you wanted was as wise, as intelligent, as kooky, as beautiful, as charming as Lilia Murgo Calderu. An interpreter of the divine - and to you, all divine within herself. 

Even when she’d just woken up, dreams still swimming behind her eyes, orange slippers on her feet as she shuffled around the kitchen. Even when she took her time brewing tea, fixing her hair, humming quietly to herself. Even when she looked up to acknowledge you with a good morning and a lazy wave of her hand, to which you always responded with a smile and a chuckle because honestly you found her early-morning demeanour to be quite endearing. Even with the bags under her hazel eyes and the exhaustion of a terrible night weighing on her shoulders. Even when she rarely slept peacefully and then spent the entire next day getting lost within her thoughts. Even when she screamed in her sleep, cried out for help, yelped from a phantom pain. You ran to her on those nights, practically flying out of your room to find her tossing and turning in her bed, and always stumbled in the dark over to her side. Even when she was overtaken by nightmares, by visions and ‘possessions’, by people speaking through her and people speaking to her. Even then, when she was at her most volatile, with golden wicks of magic sparking along her knuckles and her fingertips, still harnessing power in her dreams, you scrambled to take her hands. To hold them gently. To pry them from their fists and smooth them with your touches.

“Lilia,” you’d whisper, heart pounding and touch soft, “Lilia you have to wake up now, you’re going to hurt yourself sweetheart.” And by then, she’d already be mid-gasp, shooting up in bed, looking around the room wildly before settling on you. 

Always you. Always at her side. Always willing to help. Her assistant, her roommate, the young woman everyone saw her around town with. The one who, perhaps, understood her more than anyone ever had before. 

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

“Oooo,” you smiled, led by your nose through the door that separated the front of the shop from the back of the flat, whisked along easily by the smell of food. “This looks amazing..” 

The spoon poised to the right of the stove, already dirty with the tomato and meat from the cooking pasta, was quickly picked up by your hand and dipped back into the pot. 

“Lilia you are a godsend,” you whispered to yourself, bringing the spoon (heaped with bolognese) up to your mouth, already closing your eyes before anything could land on your tongue. 

“Aht!” A sharp voice cut through your bliss, followed by a small smack and sting on the back of your knuckles as the devil herself walked up to your side and hip-bumped you away from the stove. “No tasting before it’s ready!” She scolded, taking the spoon right out of your hold and pushing it back into the pasta to stir.

“Hey!” You protested instantly, lightly shoving her back as you pressed yourself to her side and looked over the pot. She was warm, soft, and you felt your heart jump at the scent of her bourbon and wildflower perfume. “Gimme some now,” you teased, reaching over her for the spoon. 

“Can’t you wait for five minutes!?” Lilia said loudly, shooting you a glare out of the corner of her eye as she moved her body and elbowed you away again. 

“Ow- that hurt!” You cradled your belly. It didn’t, not at all, but you loved to add fuel to the fire. 

Unfortunately, the fire had all the fuel she needed. “Good!” Lilia quipped, putting the spoon back into place in its holder, “I’m glad!” 

You tried hard to hide the smile on your lips and the desperate giggles that wanted to fly out, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“So mean to me…,” came your laughter-laden lament as you moved to the table in the centre of the room. “Making me set the table, too.” You shook your head and let out a sigh that was much too loud, exaggerating the mope in your shoulders and the dragging of your feet while you moved around the room to get bowls and cutlery. “This is illegal, I think.” 

A snort came from the stove, making you glance up just in time to see the smirk on red lips before she turned her head away to the spice cabinet. “Oh yeah? Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters?” 

“The police.” You set the bowls down quietly and gave her a scoffing ‘duh’ to follow up. 

“Oh please.” Lilia shook her head, sending grey and silver curls swishing around her neck, “The police will take one look at you and give you back.” 

You paused at the drawer, a fork already in your hand, and whipped around with a gasp. “Did you just call me ugly?” You looked quite affronted, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed, one foot already pointed out to tap rapidly on the floor. 

“Is that what I said?” She shot back, spinning in her place to give you a look in return. Eyebrows raised, tone sarcastic, casting beautiful coffee eyes over the length of your body to prove her point. In the face of that gaze, intense in all its flawless effort, you had to control the sudden hot feeling that spread across your cheeks.

“That’s what I gathered,” you pointed out, sheepish beneath the weight of her full attention, and ducked your head to rifle through the drawer, “And you like to imply things.” You bumped it shut when you found another fork. 

“Oh yeah?” Lilia huffed. “Well you like to accuse. So put that in your pipe.”

“And smoke it.” You spat, smiling.

“Exactly!” 

The two of you laughed, creating a joyful harmony as you finished setting up the table and went to turn down some of the lights. Lilia, in the meanwhile, added the finishing touches to the pasta and donned tarot-themed oven mitts (which you gifted her last year for Christmas after her others were accidentally set on fire) to carry the pot to its trivet. 

“Careful,” came your soft call as you double-checked the lock on the flat door. 

“Hmm,” Lilia hummed, slipping the mitts off and throwing them on the countertop. “Come sit, I’m starving.” 

“Shoulda cooked earlier then,” you teased, practically skipping over to the table to pull out her chair. 

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda,” she waved her hand and rolled her eyes before taking her seat, falling into your familiar routine.

It was your pleasure, above anything and everything else in life, to make Lilia Calderu’s days as smooth and bright as possible. You made breakfast, you helped clean up, you always pulled out her chair for her and always beat her to the dishes, and at night, you turned down the lights before heading off to your own room. It was small, decorated to suit you, and totally unnecessary. You’d insisted in the beginning of your stay that Lilia have it instead, because it had a door and was less open-spacey, but she brushed it off and said that she was already comfortable in her little pull-out bed. You didn’t enjoy the thought of it, not with the way her back hurt sometimes, but it was nothing a good spot of healing tea couldn’t fix—or so she claimed. You also learned early on that Lilia was neat, careful, and entirely against rushing. She did not like to rush. Nor did she like to argue, or raise her voice when angry, or get angry in the first place. And she didn’t like sleeping in too much and she didn’t like cold showers and she didn’t like when you didn’t respond to her texts (which happened maybe two times and both times you got an earful). But you never minded the things she didn’t like. You made sure to work on time-management, to avoid rushing, and you never got angry with her, only frustrated, and you never yelled at her (because you were quite sure that you’d rather be stabbed then ever do so), and you woke her up before her late alarm and only let her sleep in if she had a rough night, and you never used too much of the hot water, and you kept your phone ringer on whenever you left the shop, and all of the things she needed you to make space for, you did. You gave her privacy, you gave her an ear, a shoulder, you gave her gifts and you gave her attention and you gave her banter and jokes and stability and routine and beneath it all, every time you smiled at her, every time you both sat down in the armchairs to read your books, every time you stayed up late to listen to her rant about the world’s offences against witches, you were also giving her your heart. 

Happily, gladly, giving her your heart. 

“My compliments to the chef,” you grinned as you took your spot opposite her, putting your napkin on your lap as though you were in a fancy restaurant. 

“Mm, let me know if it’s too salty,” she ran her tongue over her teeth before grabbing your bowl, sliding it closer, and starting to dish up. 

You couldn’t help the way you looked at her, keeping one elbow on the table, holding your chin with the cup of your hand, admiring the way she moved. There was a specialness to it, a gracefulness found only in someone like Lilia. Even the way she put homemade pasta into your bowl, even the way she gave you a hefty helping, to make sure you ate properly, and even the way she slid it back to you with a small smile. The way the dim lights darkened her eyes, the way she focused on her own food, the way she shifted to get comfortable. 

Your heart felt just about ready to burst from your chest. 

“It’s perfect,” was the only thing you could say after you had your first bite; a common phrase in your combined household because Lilia was a fantastic cook. 

“Eh. Not bad,” she shrugged, but after her first bowl was finished, you smirked as you watched her grab another helping. 

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

At first, living together was a bit awkward. 

You were still a juvenile witch, having learned as much as you could from your previous mentor before she suggested Lilia as a continued source of help; and the last thing you expected when stumbling into Madame Calderu’s for the first time was the key to a future filled with the best of fortunes. You never got your palm read, never had her look into a crystal ball for you and pretend to know dead relatives, but still you were certain—your future was the best future one could have. There was a roof over your head, food at your table, books at your fingertips, and Lilia Calderu at your side. There was nothing more to want. 

Though in the beginning, that wasn’t the case. 

You tiptoed around her as though you were scared she was going to smite you down with all the power of the Divine Mother if you stepped out of line. You were the quietest, kindest, most endearing soul you could ever be—all in an effort to avoid being thrown out on your ass. But when you recognised Lilia’s way of living, how some larger part of her didn’t seem to really mind your presence at all, you began to settle. You lingered in shared spaces, you asked both the boring and exciting questions, and the tension in your shoulders faded. Sleeping came easier, smiling was instinct, and when you heard Lilia laugh at one of your jokes for the first time, you knew there was nothing in the world that could take you away from her home. 

Her home which eventually became yours, but which would always be hers no matter what she claimed. 

It was Lilia’s flat, your presence. 

It was Lilia’s life, you tagging along. 

It was Lilia’s heart, you left at the outskirts, mingling with the other acquaintances and friends (not that there were many, but still. Not in the inner circle of Lilia’s Inferno.) 

And in your life, in your heart, she was at the very centre, embedded in everything you did. 

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

“Merry Christmas!!” Your excited yell bounced off the walls, obnoxiously loud and announcing your entrance before you skated into the living room in fuzzy socks and holiday-themed pyjamas. 

The only answer that greeted you was a low gravelly groan, muffled by the press of Lilia’s face into her sheets. And on top of her head, squishing her beloved curls? A pillow. 

“Wake up now, Madame Calderu! It’s time to celebrate!” You sang, taking in the air of your shared flat. 

It was decorated beautifully, with lights along the cabinets, a fake purple tree in the corner, and other little festive trinkets you found in thrift shops, dotted around any flat surface there was. Dancing snowmen, a penguin with an ‘I love you’ sign (a symbol of your devotion, as subtle as you could make it), two stockings hung on the wall beside the tree, each of your initials sewn into the fabric. And on the tree itself? Colour-changing lights, baubles and plastic decor, some in the shapes of stars, others in the shapes of the moon’s phases, a few depicting typical witchy symbols (a hat, a little witch on a broom, two that were painted like tarot cards. The Lovers and The World.) Beneath it, there was a red and white tree skirt, fuzzy and dotted with little purple faux-pines, and on top of that, forming a little neat pile, were a few gift-wrapped presents. It was the most wonderful, heart-warming, heart-wrenching thing you had ever seen. You could spot the ones you picked out for Lilia, the gifts you spent so long thinking about, and noticed a few days before Christmas morning that she had matched each one with a wrapped present of her own. The contrast couldn’t have been more obvious; hers were all clad in some shimmery blue iridescent paper you’d never seen before in your life and yours were dressed up in a matte red and brown pattern that repeated the scene of a little bear in a Santa hat reading a book. 

You didn’t expect the presents to be there, in fact you didn’t really expect anything from her at all, and yet there they sat, adding to your pile of four. Four gifts for her and then, because she really was the softest person at heart, four gifts for you. As a thank you that evening, you’d made dinner - sweet potato chilli and slices of fresh bread. She loved it, but still you felt that a simple meal wasn’t a big enough show of gratitude. 

Christmas morning pancakes, however, would make a stunning addition to the ‘thank you’ list, especially as they were Lilia’s favourite. Two with chocolate chips and two with blueberries (though you always made at least one extra of each just in case). And beside that, a mug of herbal tea and beside that, a mug of hot chocolate. You were dead silent as you worked, trying hard to give the resident witch at least a few more minutes of peaceful sleep before you woke her up for a proper celebration. It was hard to contain the excitement, the lightning in your veins as you anticipated the rest of the day. The company, the warmth, the movies you’d watch, the books you’d read. The shop was closed, partly because the roads were full of unpaved snow, but also because you were not going to be waiting for customers on Christmas Day. You wouldn’t allow it, and eventually Lilia agreed. It was unlikely anyone would go looking for a palm reading anyway, not in that chill. Plus they all had other things to do as well, like spend time with family and cuddle up with their kids and their lovers and hold their wives and drink wine with their lovers and their wives and eat biscuits with their wives and kiss their wives and open gifts with their beautiful wives and ugh! Well. 

There were still gifts to open, gifts that you’d cherish no matter what they were. Even if Lilia got you the most basic things, like socks or a new body lotion or a water bottle, you’d wear them every day, you’d put it all over your hands, you’d never drink from anything else ever again. To even be in her busy head enough to receive a gift felt like an honour, and that was such a strange sentiment for someone you loved, putting her on a pedestal, but you were past the point of caring. Lilia Calderu was no perfect woman, you knew that more than anyone, but she wasn’t trying to be. Her kindness was taught, learned, maintained, and you weren’t sure which Gods you pleased enough to deserve it, but not a day went by where her care was overlooked. So all you could do was return the favour. 

“Merry Christmas indeed,” came a sudden rumbling purr over your shoulder, husky with sleep and tinged with amusement as Lilia shuffled her way up to the counter. 

You gave her a glance, taking in the robe around her shoulders, the colourful pattern of her nightgown, the slippers on her feet, and the sweet smirk on her lips, and could only smile when the heavy weight of her head leaned itself against your shoulder. Her curls tickled your neck a little, tied up as they were, but you had no complaints. She was warm, comforting, and still a bit tired. You would always be her headrest if that’s what she needed.

“Did you sleep well?” It was compulsory for you to ask, a habit you fell into as soon as you felt comfortable in the flat. Checking on Lilia was a common occurrence, though you only asked about sleep after she went through the night without waking up in a fit. The evening before had been quiet, so you had high hopes.

“Like a babe. What about you?” And that was the typical response, bringing a soft smile to your lips as you slid the mug of tea over to her. 

“Likewise, though I fell asleep to a delightful little playlist called Lilia’s snoring.” 

She gasped. “How dare you? I do not snore.” Wide coffee eyes looked at you, shocked, and one hand, devoid of decorative rings, playfully swiped at your arm. “Maybe you were hearing your own.” Lilia sassed before she hid her growing smirk behind her mug.

“Oh yeah right,” you rolled your eyes, moving away to shimmy the last pancake onto the small stack. “Let’s just go with that.” 

Lilia snorted and took her chance then to dip into the bathroom, still intent on completing her morning routine before eating. You got to setting the table, putting the pancakes on each plate and the rest on a separate one off to the side, placing Lilia’s favourite fork and knife beside her dish (they were made for her a while ago, complete with engraved gems and smoothed symbols, the only surviving two out of a full set), and completed the table with your mugs. It looked a bit romantic, as it always did when it was just the two of you sitting at your little kitchen table, but over the course of your time together, neither of you mentioned it. Once, in the beginning of your routine, you lit a candle and placed it in the centre of the table arrangement, and promptly promised yourself never to do so again. For as soon as Lilia sat down, embraced by the flame’s flickering light and short warmth, you felt your cheeks grow hot. She looked unbelievably handsome that evening, meeting smouldering eyes over the candlelight, showing off the shadows of her wizened face, and you were overcome with the distinct desire to lunge across the table and kiss her senseless. 

Fortunately for your friendship, you never did. And unfortunately for your friendship, the urge to do so only got worse. From kissing to holding, from holding to loving, from loving to fucking. You couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t control the flutter of your heart, but there was nothing to be done. Lilia was your roommate, your mentor, the woman who laughed with you and cried with you and consoled you when you were on your period and needed a shoulder. She wasn’t the woman you kissed or the woman you held or the woman you fucked and in all seriousness, you knew that she probably never would be. And although that thought came with its own sense of pain, its own sorrow and bone-breaking ache, it was also followed by relief. If you weren’t close enough for that, then you weren’t close enough to break each other’s hearts. So there was no need to fear, no need to worry, and if ever there came a day where Lilia found someone to be with her for good, then you would be happy. You would be happy. For her, for the woman you found yourself loving, you would be happy.

And speak of the witch, the sound of the bathroom door creaking open, followed by soft footsteps, broke you out of your staring contest with the counter. 

“Thank you for breakfast,” she said airily, fresh-faced with a small bit of makeup, a spritz of perfume, and a better style for her unruly curls. You nodded, almost in a bow, as you slid her seat out for her and gently pushed her back in. 

“It’s always my pleasure. Especially today.” You knew your eyes were shining, pouring with Christmas glee, but Lilia didn’t seem to mind the excitement. 

Ever since the beginning of December rolled around, she’d been happy to help you decorate. She took the time to hang lights with you, standing on the tips of her toes to give you the string as you circled it around the tree, then she spent the second evening of her December dotting it with decorations, inspecting the ornaments and baubles as she went, and she even bought a wreath to hang from the inside of the front door. You felt as though your heart was going to crawl out of your chest, it was so full of light and love. And at the end of the evening, when she affixed the Triple Goddess’ symbol to the top of your purple tree instead of an angel, and whispered a quick, happy, “Four of Wands” to you when she settled back on her feet, you couldn’t help but wrap her up in a hug. If that’s what her heart told her, if that’s what the divine whispered, an upright Four of Wands, then who were you to dictate? The higher powers were more right that evening than they had ever been before: in that moment, everything was Four of Wands. 

And while you ate a silent breakfast across from Lilia Calderu, enjoying the warmth and taste of your meal, taking in the slight chill of the morning and the beautiful image of her lounging in her nightie and robe, everything felt like Four of Wands all over again.

“You know I didn’t expect you to get me anything,” you finally murmured, hiding your eyes as you sipped from your mug. “It wasn’t supposed to be an eye for an eye sort of thing.” 

Lilia finished her bite, licked the side of her mouth, and raised an eyebrow. “So you expected me to be the only one opening gifts on Christmas morning? I don’t even celebrate Christmas. Why would I leave you empty handed?” 

You shrugged, already feeling the beginnings of warmth taking over your cheeks. You knew she didn’t celebrate - and technically you weren’t inclined to do so either, but the holiday cheer always got to you. And she had been so patient, going along with your joy. “I just assumed- I dunno…. We didn’t do it for each other the past two years, and exactly. You don’t celebrate. So I hope you know that just because I got you things-”

“Wait wait wait wait, stop right there.” Lilia cut you off, waving her hands a little bit, forcing your avoidant eyes from your plate up to her face. Her expression was strange, serious mixed with a distinct shadow of outrage, brick-red lips set into a frown; but behind her chocolate eyes? All you could see was warmth. “Before you even go any further, I’ll have you know that I did not feel obligated to get you Christmas presents just because you got some for me, and I certainly didn’t do it because I felt sympathetic.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to interrupt, but were quickly shut down by a held-up palm and a stern look. Your jaw clicked shut.

“I did it because I wanted to.” She held your eyes. “I did it because I didn’t want you to be celebrating alone and although it has been a long time since I last celebrated the holidays, I have to tell you that this has been very nice.” Lilia nodded at you, her lips tilting up into a smile, and she watched with delight as you couldn’t help but mirror it. “It’s been nice, right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, resisting the urge to shyly duck away, “yeah it’s been nice.” 

“And that is precisely why I did it. Because this is the kind of atmosphere every home should have,” she spread her hands out, breaking away to look around your living room with pride and care, taking in the purposefully mis-coloured tree, the lights and ornaments, the gifts, the holiday trinkets, the stockings, the sight of your books mixed with her books in the shelf, your shoes next to her shoes by the front door, your notes stuck to the fridge, your handwriting on the wall calendar, the TV you bought a little while ago, the paintings you hung up, the food that you made for her and dished for her and placed beside her favourite knife and fork, the drinks you prepared, the look in your eyes… And when she brought her attention back to you then, you almost cracked right in half when she leaned forward as though she were going to tell you a secret and said, in a playful whisper with a smirk on her face, “And there is no other person I would rather celebrate with.” 

You were so thankful she couldn’t read minds. 

“Okay?” She nodded as a reassurance and you returned it without hesitation. 

“Okay. Thank you…,” you breathed, shuddery and annoying, so out of tune, but when she looked at you in the way she did, when she spoke so gently, so firmly, you simply weren’t sure how you could’ve regained your footing sooner. “I- I appreciate it.” 

“I know you do,” Lilia was smug as she leaned back in her seat and crossed one leg over the other while she finished her breakfast.

“Shut up.” 

The response you got was a near-silent huff of laughter. 

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

“Okay! Stocking first or presents?” 

You stood in the middle of the room and Lilia sat in the blue armchair, nursing another brewed mug of hot chocolate. You hadn’t taken the chance to change, insisting that Christmas morning gifts were always unwrapped while still in your pyjamas, and Lilia had inclined her head to tell you that the reins were yours before she got cuddled into her seat.

“Let’s start with the big guns. Presents.” 

You nodded, still managing to somehow follow orders, and swiftly crouched beneath the tree, then carefully picked up all four gifts for Lilia and shuffled back to her on your knees. 

“Your gifts, m’lady.” 

“Why thank you,” she smiled, looked down at you with those heavy-lidded eyes, stroking the fire in your heart, and put her mug off to the side before holding her hands out and taking the wrapped presents into her lap. They weren’t very big, one of them wasn’t even a box, so she had no trouble balancing as you quickly turned around to grab your own. 

“Right,” once you were settled at her feet on the floor, cross-legged and acutely aware of how close you were, you set the boxes down in front of you and clapped your hands. “You go first, then me, then you, then me. Deal?” 

“What if I want you to go first?” One dark eyebrow raised, adding to the wicked pleasure of a dark-lipped smirk, and you instantly tried playing off your fluster with a shrug. 

“Then I will. Is that what you’d like, Madame Calderu?” Only used in moments of teasing, you enjoyed seeing the slight pink that went to Lilia’s cheeks as she heard you use her unofficial official title. Despite it being the name of her shop, it was rare that a customer addressed her as so. In time then, she only came to associate it with you. 

“Yeah, why not,” Lilia shrugged, and you instantly picked up the first gift nearest to you. 

“Can I shake it?” You grinned.

“If you’re interested in breaking things, be my guest.” 

“Mmm, no thank you,” came your little murmur as you carefully (trying to hide your eagerness) undid the wrapping. It was a long box, thin, and as the gift was revealed and the paper fell off to the floor, you felt your heart stutter. Clearly, it was jewellery. And clearly, you had to open it. But the front caught your eye, stalling you, and you took in the small golden cursive L. with interest. “Did you make this?” You whispered, shifting the box to hold it like precious gems. 

“Open it first, ask questions later,” you didn’t have to look up to know she was smiling, so you did what was desired. 

The top came off with little resistance and suddenly you were looking down at a necklace. A familiar necklace. Familiar and yet different. Made of smaller beads with similar colours, more delicate and fitting to your less loud aesthetic, but with the same rectangular shaped pendant in the centre. You nearly folded yourself in half looking closer, feeling your heart in your throat when you recognized that yes, it was like Lilia’s, but it wasn’t meant to be a replica - it was meant to match. Two hands against a white background hovered above and below a sun with an open eye, fitting the same mould, but Lilia’s hands were an iridescent blue-green, the top one pointing down from the right and the bottom pointing palm-up from the left. Yours was in complete contrast. A deep blue background, opal coloured hands, the top one pointing down from the left, the bottom pointing up from the right, and the sun in the middle was not a sun at all but a full moon, painted white, the eye’s iris a dark midnight blue. It was perfect in a way you could not even voice, hand-crafted with so much care, and you looked up at Lilia as though she herself had the bright idea to create the sun and moon and hang them both in the sky. 

“I- this is- Lilia…,” you swallowed, glancing at the necklace resting against her chest before looking down at its partner in your hands. “Holy shit, Lilia.” 

“Here, let me help you put it on.” She flapped her hands to gesture you forward and forward you went, placing the box aside and taking the necklace out with the gentlest touch. When you turned and she slung it around your neck, the jewellery was cold, but her hands were warm, and in seconds you were suddenly matching with the woman you loved. 

“...I feel like I’m part of your coven now,” you whispered while looking down, stroking it with reverence. 

“Ha!” Lilia cackled, her smile brighter than fresh snow in the sun. “You don’t want to be part of my coven, kiddo,” she took a sip of her tea. 

A very mean, insecure voice in the pit of your mind hissed at the sound of that nickname. It always incited a wild, twisting fire inside you. You hated to be reminded of your age, of the differences between you, because it always served as a symbol of what could never be. Coming to terms with unrequited love was one thing, but having the reason why it was unrequited spoken to your face so boldly, even without intent to do so, was a different beast entirely. You could handle the sadness when not reminded of its roots, but a quick ‘kiddo’ or ‘kid’ or reference to age spoken from Lilia’s lips had you instantly defensive. Of course you never showed it, never in front of her, but that didn’t mean the punch to your psyche didn’t hurt like a bitch. 

“Yes, I do.” You insisted, moving the opened box and wrapping paper out of the way. “Of course I do. Lilia Calderu’s coven? Sign me the fuck up right now.” 

She huffed, put her mug down, and turned back to her own gifts. “Shall I?” 

“You shall.” 

The first one she picked up was the squishy one, soft and medium sized, and you delighted in the way her brows furrowed as she pressed it between her fingers. Three seconds later, when the paper was torn off (just as gently as you did it, you noted), a small gasp, followed by a rich laugh, filled the air. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Lilia grinned as she picked up the oven mitts and slipped them onto her hands. It was a cute addition to your running joke. Only a few months before that moment, Lilia had somehow accidentally set her old oven mitts on fire. Bright flame and all. It was a miracle how you got there just before the smoke detectors went off and managed to throw the things outside before dousing them in water. They were still on her hands too! You’d nearly had a heart attack, staring at her with eyes so wide it gave you a headache as you ignored the half-charred mitts and held her palms. Lilia insisted she was okay as you inspected them, but she never pulled away and she didn’t protest when you asked her to please run them under cold water for a few minutes. Since then, the only ‘oven mitts’ she had were dish towels and every time you meant to buy replacements, you procrastinated or you forgot. That simply wouldn’t do—thus, the tarot card themed oven mitts she had on her hands, waving them around and pinching her thumb to her fingers with satisfaction. 

“These are lovely. Thank you,” her voice was liquid gold with gratitude as she finally slipped them off and gently set them on the table, giving them a pat for good measure. 

“Yeah, I thought you might have needed some,” you smirked and gladly accepted the small playful slipper-covered kick you got to the knee. “Now my turn again.” 

The next gift was softer than a box, but shaped like one, with a weird hard lump on the front, and once you got the wrapping paper off, your face almost split in half with the width of your smile. 

“This looks so beautiful, oh my god,” your left hand stroked and fiddled with the pendant at your neck, holding it as a newfound comfort while your right hand explored the leather-bound notebook you found in your lap. The lump you felt on the front was a sewn-in gem, coloured gold and orange, and you felt warm with the thought that it reminded you so much of Lilia’s magical tint. “Thank you Lilia.. I promise you it won’t go to waste.” 

Her eyes were shining proudly when you looked up at her, and you noticed the quick glance away from your collarbone to the book in your lap. She must have thought the necklace was just as beautiful as you did. 

“It better not, or I’ll take it back,” she teased, humming a soft sound of agreement as you marvelled at the fraying, fabric pages. 

“No chance. Now open your next one, please.” The notebook was gently set aside after you re-clasped the metal hinge. 

As Lilia picked up one of the smaller boxes, harder than the oven mitts, and began unwrapping, you briefly wondered about what you were going to put in the new journal. There were no lines, so it was perfect for sketching, but at the same time you hadn’t kept a diary in so long and it was the perfect opportunity, accompanied by the most perfect feeling. Making use of something a loved one had given you. And you would make use of it, without a doubt you would. 

“Is this a book of spells?” Lilia asked, turning the little brown book over in her hands with a furrowed brow and a confused smile. 

You straightened up and shuffled closer to her knees, practically putting your chin in her lap when you excitedly reached up to hold it open for her. “That’s exactly what it is, yes. I had to get a bit of help from Elise, but…,” you bit your lip, suddenly shy at all the effort you’d put into contacting your mentor. She agreed to help because she loved you, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t teased, and as you looked up at Lilia then, staring into dark enchanting eyes, you felt a blush roll over your cheeks. “...It’s um- it’s little obscure spells. For like cleaning and mending and things. I think there’s one in there for even stitching stars? Just stars? And a few others. Shining copper, cleaning lipstick off of glass…,” you trailed off, watching as Lilia hummed and took the book from you again. 

She took a moment to flip through the pages and read the small descriptions, taking the time to react to each one in kind. And when she got to the end, going a bit faster in her perusing, she suddenly stopped. You paused just as she paused and watched, with confusion, as her eyebrows promptly shot up.

“You think I need an.. ‘overstimulating orgasm’?” 

….

“Excuse me?” 

You went still. 

Lilia’s eyes bounced from you to the page and back again before she turned it around on her lap, nonverbally forcing you to read it. 

And there, in your mentor’s handwriting, were the cursive words, “Spell for a Very Special Feeling”. 

And beneath it, in smaller print:

‘Do your wrists ever get tired? Your hands? Are you eager for a satisfying night in? A chance to really release your frustrations without doing the work yourself? I know just the spell.

Completing the steps below will result in a release like no other. It will burn, it will feel painful, but the pleasure will override the ache and in no time at all, you will find yourself feeling delightfully… overstimulated. No tiring hours of doing it yourself! No chickening out! Give it a try maybe once. Or twice. As many times as your body can take.’ 

And a diagram showing hand movements, followed by a chant to go along with it. 

That motherfucker!

“Judging by your expression, I’m guessing you didn’t look through this thoroughly before you wrapped it for me?” Lilia smirked, cheeks growing pinker the longer you stared at the writing in complete and utter shock. 

It took you a good second to react and then another two seconds to respond. You were quick to reach out and grab the book, wanting to look through it properly to avoid any other utterly embarrassing miscommunications, but Lilia yanked it back before you could. 

“Too late,” she shook her head, and you floundered. 

“N-no! That is not supposed to say that, I swear. I would never- that- Elise wrote them all! I approved them! I don’t even know how- why-” 

Lilia raised one of her palms, cutting your sentence right in half, and you fell quiet as she smiled. 

“She must’ve slipped it in. I think she’s trying to tell me something,” the book went flipping back and forth between her palms and you sighed. 

“I’m really sorry about that, oh my god. It was just supposed to be a cute little gift.” 

“And it is,” Lilia insisted, snapping the book shut with a smirk. “Don’t feel embarrassed. It’s only natural.” You felt something in you shiver when she winked and desperately tried pulling yourself together when she turned to put the little book on the side table. 

Dwelling on the moment, now matter how enticing the idea sounded, was not a very good decision to make. You couldn’t afford to get distracted or blush too hard, but dear lord it seemed to be an impossible feat - especially with the image of Lilia in your head. Panting, blushing, hands gripping her sheets… the same hands, soft hands, with delicate wrinkles and perfect nails, just the right length and just the right width and so deceptively strong, no matter how feminine they seemed… the same hands she used to do her sewing, her cooking, her readings, her hair… the same hands she used to thread two fingers through the curve of her mug’s handle… oh in much the same way you wished they could curve into- no. 

No. 

You wrenched your eyes away, declining the draw of lust, and picked up the next gift on autopilot. As you tried emptying your head, the wrapping paper fell apart under your wandering hands, and soon you were staring down at what seemed to be a box of tarot cards. A very unique box of tarot cards with unique drawings, sequences, and detailing - art nouveau inspired. One of your favourites. 

“I don’t have this set yet…,” you breathed, drifting your fingertips over the glossy cover of the box like it was your Bible. 

“I know.” She hummed, still drinking from her hot chocolate, watching you with curiosity.  

Tarot set collecting somehow became your combined hobby over the years, although your preferences differed so as to not have any duplicates. Lilia had a set she used only for the shop, one that didn’t hold the same sentimental value as the few others she had, and you displayed your decks on the empty surface of your dresser. Lilia rarely got new ones, she was quite connected to the five that she already had, they all held different meanings, and you only enjoyed splurging when you saw ones that were really incredible. Your next gift was a surprise for Lilia, it would bump her deck number up to six, and you smiled softly as you slid the top off of the decorative box and swiftly counted the cards as the tenth addition to your collection. 

“These are gorgeous. Where did you get them?” You couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

“A witch never tells,” Lilia put two fingers to her pursed lips and though you didn’t look up to see it, you still huffed at her words. 

“Well can a witch accept a thank you?” 

“She can,” your roommate acquiesced, giving you a heartfelt “You’re welcome” when you thanked her on the spot. 

“I will say I think you and I had the same idea,” you admitted when Lilia got around to opening her next gift. She raised quizzical eyebrows as she looked down at the box in her hands, and you watched with glee as her lips parted in surprise. “We know each other so well.” 

“It appears we do…,” she murmured low beneath her breath before she tossed the wrapping paper down to you and gave the box a proper look.

It was medium sized, wooden, hand painted, and carved. On the front, there was a rather uncanny all-black cameo of Lilia’s side profile. It was perfect, from the shelf of her brow to the distinct curve of her nose down to the gentle slope of her neck, and it was front and centre in the painted format of a tarot card. At the bottom were two words written in your pen, ‘The Divine’. And at all four corners, little details of the sun, moon, Saturn, and stars. Lilia was quiet as she opened the hinged lid, and then she gasped as she came face to face with The Empress. It took her less than a second to realise what you’d done. Her gaze shifted quickly, from every individual stroke to every mark and design, from every corner signature to every line. With slow movements, pouring with awe, The Empress was quickly pushed to the back as Lilia slipped the entire stack out of the box and began fanning them with her fingertips. Her touch was delicate, hovering as she traced outlines and ran her thumb along the curves of the cards. 

“Hand painted,” she said softly and you looked from her to the deck and back again with a nod and a smile. 

“Do you like them?” You didn’t really have to ask, you knew she did, but some part of you was always nervous whenever you did something nice for your roommate. You had to toe the line carefully, balancing being platonic and being romantic, and gifts were, at times, a difficult thing to interpret. You wanted her to enjoy them, to find use in them, to keep them for the rest of her long life just as she had with a bunch of her other souvenirs. If ever she had to leave, flee, or travel somewhere without you, you hoped that she would stop to pack them in with her things first. Or better yet, use them for special occasions. Times where she could tell people that she got that deck of tarot cards from a young woman she once knew, a woman she thought of often with fondness. Maybe a woman who could become her wife one day, though it was such a silly thought you could only shake it out of your head.

“Yes, I like them,” Lilia breathed, eyes still hungrily devouring the details. She looked quite impressed. “These are beautifully done. Thank you.” Her smile felt like a hug around your shoulders when she peered down at you. 

“Oh I- of course…,” you said shyly, resisting the urge to bow your head or look away, and her smile only grew as she turned back to her new deck and began realigning them. You watched her for a moment, seeing her care and appreciation in the way she handled them like fine china, and it was only when the box made a light clink against the side table that you finally snapped out of it.

“Why don’t we open the last ones together?” You suggested, perking up with a renewed sense of interest. The last gift was your personal favourite as it contained the most magic, and since you had yet to find your own physical form of the craft, like Lilia’s golden whisps, it was also the most time consuming. Laborious magic was a true pain in the ass, but you had a little help from your mentor and in only a few days, the gift was complete. You prayed the witch in front of you enjoyed it. 

“Good idea,” she put the wooden box to the side and picked up the last gift.

You mirrored her, then watched as both of you worked at the wrapping paper and revealed your last gifts. 

In your hand, a small unassuming brown box. In Lilia’s, a long Tiffany-blue box. You shared a look and in unison, slid the tops off.

Inside the box, nestled in a soft foam mould, was a simple, smooth, shining Black Tourmaline. It was about the size of the dip in your palm and when you picked it up, your hand dropped just a bit with the weight. You glanced up at Lilia, meeting her eyes over the ledge of her knees, and smiled in confusion. 

“This is gorgeous, but why is it so heavy?” You laughed, holding the gemstone like gold as you slid it between your palms and ran your fingers over the smooth surface. 

“Turn it around,” she responded as she looked down at her own gift and hummed, moving to gently take it out of its own foam mould as though it was made of glass. 

“Oh… woah…” On the other side was an engraving. A symbol. Seven points to a complex star. You’d seen glimpses of it in various books over the years, but it wasn’t among the most common signs in witchcraft, so you never paid it any proper attention. Clearly, to Lilia, you should’ve. 

“It’s a Heptagram. In many religions, its existence is overwhelmingly positive,” Lilia said offhandedly, eyes still glued to her own gift, “and this…,” she twirled it in her fingers, face glimmering with the way the sun shone through the kitchen curtains and caught the light off of one of the shining little bunches, “is a bouquet of hemlock stuck in stasis.” Her vision readjusted, moving past the green of the stems to you, sitting in direct view behind them. You watched as the film of magic made the bunch glow. From certain angles, it seemed as though it stood beneath shining stained glass, casting reds, oranges, yellows, blues, purples, greens, pinks, and whites all in various shades.

“I knew it was a bit on the nose, but it can’t hurt you unless you decide to eat it,” you explained, “Elise helped me cast the spell. It will be like that forever, I’m pretty sure. That’s why it’s shimmering. Pretty, isn’t it?” You smiled, running your fingers over your new stone aimlessly. 

“It’s perfect,” Lilia said warmly, tilting her head with a sweet smile on her face. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” You rushed out, chest almost heaving with the weight of her affection “Now are you going to tell me the meaning behind this stone?” You asked and held it up before your eye, symbol facing her. 

“It’s a protective ward. Throughout the ages, it has come to mean different things to different believers, but I focused my energy into divine protection. As long as it’s with you, anyone with bad intentions will turn the other way,” she explained in her teacher voice, speaking matter-of-factly.

You blinked at her. 

She looked entirely unbothered, maybe a little bit proud, as if it was just another one of her lessons. As if she did something like that for everyone, everyday. 

“Or that’s what it’s supposed to do,” Lilia rolled her eyes and swung her head to the side as she picked up her mug again, “but I’m certain I got it right.” 

Oh. Right. Of course. As if it was just another one of her lessons. Like a Christmas Day lesson. Like perhaps it was no big deal. Like maybe it wasn’t a true feat of magic, no matter how small the gem. Like protection wasn’t that hard. Like it wasn’t genuinely the kindest thing anyone had ever done for you. Ever. And like you wouldn’t think about it for the rest of your life, which you would, of course, cuz you’d hold the thing in your pocket, in your hand, you’d sew it into your skin, if it meant you wouldn’t lose it. 

Not that you could, you decided. No. You’d have it forever. You’d keep it until death, considering that’s what Lilia wanted. Your safety. Your protection. She went as far as to pick out a gem for you, went through the time of making it compact enough, smooth enough, and spent lord knows how long carving the symbol into its surface. Then continued to cast on it, doubling the chance of success, tripling the strength. For your protection. For your survival. Because she cared. Lilia Calderu cared. And you knew she did, so you weren’t sure why tears started to prick at your eyes, but it wasn’t like she noticed anyway.

She was too focused on her hemlock, admiring it still with a pleasant smile on her lips, and you watched her lick the hot chocolate from her mouth and put her mug down before you sprang into action. 

You hadn’t even realised that’s what you’d been waiting for, why you hesitated, but the second her hands were empty and you felt the warmth of her body press into your own, it made sense. That’s what you craved. That’s what you always missed. The subtle buzz in your body, calling as if it were without something, begging for a concept you knew nothing off, went quiet. Like a switch being turned off. Your hands tucked themselves beneath her arms and went winding up to her back, splaying out with the stone squished gently in between your left hand and her pyjamas. Of course that’s what you wanted. Lilia. Always Lilia. She still smelled so lovely, like the sweet perfume of your home and the lemon of her shampoo, and you shuddered as you felt a soft puff of breath along your neck. Jesus, you melted for her. Like ice in the sun. Like butter in a pan. Warm with love, with sunlight, and you felt as though you could soak her up forever. You could stay there, nearly collapsing at the feel of her arms running up to curl along the curve of your back, forever.

“Thank you Lilia,” you whispered into her ear, sounding shuddery and frail as those sweet hands patted you once, twice, so warm and so calming. Her arms squeezed gently, nonverbally returning the sentiment, and you felt weak. “Thank you…” 

A minute passed, then she shifted and pulled you a bit closer. 

“Merry Christmas, honey,” Lilia murmured, red lips so close to your skin you swore you could feel the brush of them. The pull of them. Like maybe she wanted them to be there. 

What a silly thought. 

“Merry Christmas, Madame Calderu,” you replied, just as softly, and grinned with joy as her shoulders began to jump with happy quiet laughter.

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

The witch came back the very next day oh the witch came back...

Hi! Hello! Hi! Let me know what you all think? Did I get the characterization right? I have another part in mind for this, so if you like it and you show your love, you may have more Lilia Calderu coming your way. I really hope you're all doing well. - Yours, Ripley x

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

[bonny-kookoo]

Hey Bonny!! I saw you wanted to play a game, so how does this sound for a drabble? Dragon! Yoongi (or Kookie since I know he's your guy) x Fairy! Reader?? Idk if you've written fairies before, but I know you've done dragons! 💜🤍

I have a dragon kook x fairy reader on my patreon as early access, so I'll make this one yoongi!

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

Yoongi

Hidden in the woods

Dragons are rather social creatures- but when a young Dragonblood named Yoongi fails to find a partner while all his friends and family have moved way past those events already, he isolates himself, believing he might just be destined to be a loner. But maybe, he was just impatient.

Tags/Warnings: Dragon hybrid!Yoongi, Fairy!Reader, strangers to ???, reader is described as short oops, SFW

Wordcount: 1.6k (it was supposed to be a Drabble... oops)

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━���━━♥

“You rarely visit these days.”

His mothers words still echo in his mind as he tries to find a new composition on his piano that doesn’t sound like everything he’s already put out. Of course he hasn’t visited- with his brother’s twins constantly around, he’s always reminded of how far ahead everyone around him is, while he’s yet to find his first real love. He’s thirty, for god’s sake- and yet all he has is his house, a stable career as a musician, and a lot on his mind.

All his friends are married. Some have kids, others are busy preparing for the day they’ll have them. He feels out of place.

Yoongi has made peace with the fact that he’ll be the uncle to all of them, the one guy who never really seems to be happy about anything, never has a family of his own. It’s alright.

He sighs, loudly, gripping his hair for a second in frustration. This is stupid- why is he having an artist’s block right now of all times? People are waiting for something new, especially after he’s already taken a break to help his creativity. And yet, it did nothing- except for giving him a little bit more room to breathe and most of all move out of his apartment and into his new house near the woods. It’s nice here- about half an hour away from the bustling neon city he’s used to after years of living there, and also a bit more distance from his family and friends. A newfound excuse for when they ask him once more where he’s been.

The doorbell rings, attracting his attention. He’s not awaiting any guests or packages- who could it be?

Via the camera installed he can see that there’s a person he doesn’t know at the door- you're rather short, but visibly curious, looking around for any signs of life inside his home, and for a short moment, he sees them;

Delicate little slightly translucent wings. Pointy ears, tilted a bit downwards.

A fairy.

As he opens the door, you seem startled for a second or two, taking a step back, before you speak. “Oh, hello!” You greet him. “I was just about to ask- do you have uh.. Jungkook’s number?” You wonder, and he becomes hostile, crossing his arms. “A coworker of mine, Jimin, said you have it. I’m sorry I’m just, you know, showing up here like that-”

The door closes. But despite what he was expecting, you just ring the doorbell again- and again, until he opens.

“Okay, as I was trying to explain before you so rudely interrupted me-” You tease a little, arms now crossed as well as your wings flap around a bit. “-tell him at least that I need his help fixing my washing machine. He broke it and left the crime scene for me to find, and that’s, pardon my language-” You lean in a bit as if you’re about to tell Yoongi something secret, “-pretty crappy behavior.”

Yoongi stares you down for a moment, before he speaks.

“That’s it?” He asks, and you nod. “Why don’t you ask Jimin for Jungkook’s number?” He wonders, not entirely convinced. Jungkook is pretty much a magnet for people no matter what gender, and the worst part about it is that many if not most always try and get to him through Yoongi.

No one’s ever interested in him. Only his friends, or the things he can provide.

“Cause Jimin doesn’t have it either!” You whine, stomping your leg on the ground in agony. “Listen, I don’t know how to fix it and my bathroom smells like a laundromat already, my coffee machine is also broken and my script has been rejected for the third time, I really need some good news. Please?” You ask, and Yoongi contemplates.

“What if I fix it?” He asks, and your eyes begin to sparkle, wings lifting to flutter in excitement. It’s like in this very moment, he can hear the keys of his piano chime, creating a new piece in his mind.

“You can?!” You ask, stepping closer.

“Probably. Where do you even live?” He asks, before you point towards the woods.

“I live in the woods, pretty much. It’s not that far.” You say, and Yoongi sighs, looking back inside his house. It’s not like he’s going to get anything done either way, so who cares? It might take his mind off of things for a moment or two-

So a few hours later, he’s in your house, enjoying some hot coffee from your machine, which he’d fixed as well while he was at it. Well, fixed is a strong word- he pretty much just explained how it properly worked to you. It was working just fine- you just lost the manual and couldn’t figure it out on your own.

“I always thought dragons were scarier.” You say suddenly, opening a pack of cookies to put in the middle of your wooden coffee table. “You’re really nice. Tall, and a bit gloomy looking, but very nice.” You say, sitting down on the couch next to him, legs pulled up towards you.

He’s noticed something glittering all over the small house- like sparkling glitter, but much finer, and barely noticeable. Looking closer to his pants, he notices it there as well- and even after a brush with his hand, it sticks to his fingers now.

“Oh- I’m sorry! It keeps getting everywhere, especially now.. Wait- I have like, a plastic thing-” You hurry, getting up to search for something in a drawer close by your TV. “Ah, there!” You say, giving him the lint-roller. “It’s one designed for fairy dust. I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about that..” You say, but for some odd reason, he declines.

“It’s fine.” He denies. “Doesn’t bother me.” he tells you, and again, you look at him like he’s just told you the earth is flat after all.

but it truly doesn’t bother him. It would, technically, if he was anywhere else. But right now, in this moment, he couldn’t be any more indifferent towards the ‘mess’ you leave sticking to his clothes and skin.

As soon as he’s back home, the sight of your sparkling smile is still in his mind, as his feet almost automatically move towards his piano, where he sits down, and presses a record button to play something new. The melody has been stuck on repeat in his head the entire way back home through the thick snow, like his imagination was finally finding color again.

But it’s different from what he usually creates.

This piece is playful almost, intriguing. It’s a little hesitant, like someone holding back a thought itself just to not indulge too much in a fantasy they’re already creating in their mind. Fluttering notes interrupt these parts however, sneaking in with excitement and curiosity, trying their best to convince the player to let themselves go.

And Yoongi does, as he finishes the piece, and leans back in his chair, recording finished before his phone chimes with a message.

“You left your scarf at my place!” Is what you tell him.

“I’ll get it tomorrow.” He texts you back.

“I could make us dinner?” You question.

He contemplates, finger hovering over the virtual keyboard of his phone, before he begins to write his answer. Fluttering touches of his fingers moving with a hint of excitement, fine fairy dust on the skin of his hands shimmering in the setting sun dipping everything in a golden glow.

“I’d love that.”

[jadeshifting]

★⋆. — HOGWARTS ELECTIVE CLASSES TO SCRIPT

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

𓆩♡𓆪 — ENCHANTED ARTIFACTS

ever wanted to know how cursed rings, bewitched mirrors, and sentient diaries work? this course teaches you how to identify, dismantle, and (if you’re brave) create magical relics—you never know when you’ll need an enchanted necklace or a vanishing cabinet, i suppose

𓆩♡𓆪 — WIZARDING FASHION HISTORY

from the enchanted silks of the 1500s to robes that literally spark joy (or flames) in the 1900s, this elective dives into the who, what, and why tho of wizarding couture. you’ll learn how clothing reflected magical politics (hello, anti-Muggle fabrics), the most popular clothing charms over the centuries, and why Merlin’s pointy hat was such a massive deal at the time

𓆩♡𓆪 — CURSE REVERSAL

sometimes, magic backfires—this class teaches you how to undo everything from jinxed cauldrons to full-on blood curses. it’s half science, half art, and fully life-saving

𓆩♡𓆪 — HEALING

for the bleeding hearts (and bloody injuries). this elective teaches advanced healing charms, restorative potions, and how to fix the most catastrophic accidents without having to Floo to St. Mungo’s. class is split 50/50 between the healers of the next generation, and mischief makers that are so unhinged they have to heal themselves. this class sees all the good, the bad and the ugly

𓆩♡𓆪 — DRAGON STUDIES

learn all about the physicality, variety, and history of these dynamically unique creatures, and perhaps learn how to not get torched while studying them along the way. the course includes field trips (waivers from home and insurance spells VERY much required)

𓆩♡𓆪 — CHARMED CULINARY ARTS

enchanted cooking utensils will be your best friend as you navigate this course, learning to do everything in the kitchen from baking bread that sings to brewing drinks that bubble with magic. (house elves are assistants in this class, and you can always convince them to slip you an extra treat or two)

𓆩♡𓆪 — ADVANCED DIVINATION

tea leaves and crystal balls don’t even begin to scratch the surface of everything divination has to offer—if you’re a believer, and grounded enough to put up with the kooky professor. this course dives into obscure methods of divining the future: dream walking, cloud reading, rune casting, and much more. perfect for the more spiritually inclined students (or those who just enjoy the professor’s cryptic drama)

𓆩♡𓆪 — MAGICAL FORESICS

got a Sherlock streak, or always wondered how the aurors do it? learn how to dissect magical crime scenes, trace hex signatures, and untangle the threads of a cursed crime

𓆩♡𓆪 — MINISTRY POLITICS & MAGICAL LAW

in this course that’s absolutely not for the academically faint, you’ll find yourself taking part in debates more than any other course. debate the ethics of using Veritaserum in court, or why house-elf labor laws are a mess. these students are likely future members of the Wizengamot

𓆩♡𓆪 — ENCHANTED HOMEKEEPING

from self-sweeping brooms to magical security systems, think Martha Stewart meets The Standard Book of Spells. this course covers everything you need to know about using magic to run the most efficient household ever (you get a headache when you think about how Muggles do all of this without magic)

𓆩♡𓆪 — ALCHEMY: THE ART OF TRANSFORMARION

arguably the ultimate nerdy class—i’ve yet to meet a single person who wanted to handle the theories and coursework of this class. learn the secrets of transmutation, potion refinement, and (the whole thing’s pretty mysterious) all about the quest for immortality

𓆩♡𓆪 — SPELL CREATION THEORY

an elective created as the direct remedy for students making overeager and academically misguided attempts to make their own spells (some spells don’t exist for a reason, Fred and George.) learn the theory of how to craft spells from scratch and fine-tune them to your exact needs—perfect for the creatively chaotic. though, of course, you don’t actually make spells in class (that’s a direct ticket to St. Mungo’s)

𓆩♡𓆪 — THEORY & ETHICS OF NECROMANCY

strictly theoretical, of course (for legal reasons), this class dives into the magical theory of spirits’ existence, resurrection spells, and the history of necromancy. it also manages to cram most of one of the longest-standing debates in magical history into a year-long course (we can raise the dead, but should we? HM, i wonder)

𓆩♡𓆪 — WANDLESS MAGIC

if you’re someone who thinks ‘why bother with a wand when you are the magic?’ this course is for you—it trains you in wandless spellcasting, so you can cast even when you’ve “misplaced” your primary weapon

𓆩♡𓆪 — WIZARDING FOLKLORE

from ghostly greenhouses to the allegedly haunted halls of Hogwarts, from ancient fairy tales to horror stories that keep even the bravest wizards awake at night, this course covers all of the folklore and tall tales from centuries of wizarding history and storytelling

𓆩♡𓆪 — ENCHANTED CARTOGRAPHY

i’m sure you already know that making an enchanted map is a skill that never goes out of style (cough, Marauder’s.) in this course, learn to create enchanted maps that move, update themselves, and accurately portray secret rooms and passageways (though they might not cover the more mischievous aspects in the course, i’m sure you can figure those out on your own time)

𓆩♡𓆪 — MAGICAL ETHICS & PHILOSOPHY

all the way from time turners and truth serums to love potions and dementors, this course holds a magnifying glass to all the moral dilemmas of using magic in gray areas—just because you can hex someone doesn’t mean you should, and if you need a love potion, maybe you should reexamine some things first

𓆩♡𓆪 — QUIDDITCH ANALYTICS

a course all about the stats, spells, and tactics behind the wizarding worlds’ favorite sport. think of it as sabermetrics, but with broomsticks. students are an even split of quidditch players, and those who love quidditch without wanting to zoom hundreds of feet above the ground (understandable)

𓆩♡𓆪 — WANDLORE & CRAFTING

take your first step towards becoming the next Ollivander by studying wand woods, cores, and how to match them with their perfect witch or wizard. careful, your own wand might be open to more scrutiny than you’re accustomed to. warning: NOT a class for people with butterfingers

𓆩♡𓆪 — MOVING PHOTOGRAPHY

learn how to properly snap a good photo and develop moving pictures, charm them with special effects, and create photo albums that are magically cohesive enough to tell their own stories. with moving photos holding entire memories, someone always needs a good magical photographer

𓆩♡𓆪 — GRIMOIRE WRITING & SPELL JOURNALING

every great wizard of the past and present had a grimoire to keep track of their endless magical escapades. learn how to create your own spellbooks, safely document your findings, and make them impossible for dark wizards (or just nosy siblings) to read

𓆩♡𓆪 — MAGICAL LINGUISTICS

communication is key, whether it’s haggling with goblins, charming house-elves, or negotiating with dragons. this course helps you break through the language barrier—literally—to the entire wizarding world and all its species

𓆩♡𓆪 — MAGICAL JOURNALISM

for aspiring Rita Skeeters (hopefully no one, let’s make it ethical), this course covers investigative reporting, spell-resistant quills, following the honor code of interviewing and writing, and even some tips on how to charm the Daily Prophet editors with your work and score a job in the journalism field. NO Quick-Quotes Quills allowed, ever !!

𓆩♡𓆪 — TIME MANIPULATION THEORY

absolutely no time-turners allowed, despite learning all about them. learn the ethical and practical implications of bending time, including nearly every historical horror story of witches and wizards who got a little spin-happy with the power. (does the course only exist as a big fat warning for the students who are granted use of a time turner? we’ll never know—but yes, probably)

𓆩♡𓆪 — MUSIC & ENCHANTED COMPOSITION

a course taken by many of the choir members, which allows you to delve deep into the magic behind musical spells, how to ethically enchant instruments for killer performances, and both writing and performing magical compositions. don’t mind the frogs in class, they’re brushing up on their technique, too

𓆩♡𓆪 — SPELL COMBAT TACTICS

this course covers a mix of strategic dueling with battlefield planning, as it covers pretty much every notable magical duel and battle in history. perfect for those angling to join the Aurors, or those who are just looking to win every wizarding duel

𓆩♡𓆪 — WIZARDING THEATER

this course involves combining drama with charms to bring stories literally to life on stage. props are enchanted and can interact with the actors, the weather matches each set, and actors might just float mid-scene. students can sharpen their acting and set enchantment skills to hopefully be on one of the great wizarding stages one day (or working behind the scenes of one)

𓆩♡𓆪 — MUGGLE STUDIES: ADVANCED INTEGRATION

forget the “what’s a toaster?” training-wheels shit—this course is about truly blending wizarding ingenuity with Muggle innovation. a popular course among muggleborn students, who have the opportunity to actually use their heritage in their favor to explore a whole world of social and magical possibilities

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[stxrvel]

injustice (3)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! a lot of curse words, a lot of self-deprecation and low self esteem. no proofread. this is nawt silly writing, we're diving right into the aNgSt. jumpscare? iykyk a/n. hi guys! this was a rollercoaster for me to write, but i hope it doesn't come as harsh as i think it is. pls let me know what you think in the comments!! see you next week!!

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

You had gone through a scenario like that in your head several times. A variety of moments, conversations and looks that always ended in the same unpleasant, inevitable and demoralizing way: you were forgotten by the people you loved most in the world. Only when you reached 18 would you realize how heartbreaking the dull thud of the silence of indifference was, how sharp and icy the loneliness was, how it penetrated and paralyzed your bones; but at that time, at 16, you could still convince yourself that all those things were only in your head and would always be there.

“Now that you're the last to go, you guys are much more likely to forget about me.”

“Of course not! In fact, as soon as I start earning money I'll save up to take you with us.”

Jungkook shook his head, his narrowed eyes judging you as if having insecurities was a sin. You believed his words at that moment, because being the last one still with you, 'cause you were going to graduate from school in the same year, it was the only thing you could do. Hold on to the idea that you really weren't going to be forgotten, because the mere conception of a future without your best friends was inconceivable.

“Jimin-hyung said he was going to try to call more often,” your friend went on, his eyes fixed on the bass on his lap and his important task of leaving it neat before returning it to its holy post in the school's music room. “I haven't talked to them in about three days.”

Jimin and Taehyung had left just a couple of months ago, but thanks to the opportunities opened to them with their incredible willingness, discipline and some string twitching on Namjoon's part, they had managed to get into a great academy to train and fulfill their dreams.

That also brought with it, as irreversible side effects, that your communication with them was drastically reduced. You had to constantly remind yourself and Jungkook that it was out of their control. With their future at stake, there was something for which they had to exert extreme effort and for which to sacrifice some other things.

“It's normal that they don't have as much time as they used to, Kookie.” You lowered your head, noticing the way his hands delicately handled the instrument on his legs. Since Jimin and Taehyung had left there was no time of day when you could tear yourself away from Jungkook, which is why you accompanied him to his extracurricular music lessons when you really should have been studying for the college entrance exam. “Life after school gets really hectic.”

“I've heard that college life is quieter.” Jungkook twisted his lips, wiping between the strings and his fingerprints left on the bass every time he moved it back and forth to clean it. It was an almost irresistible cycle.

“The only one at college right now is Seokjin and even about him we haven't heard much.” You leaned back against the piano, noticing Jungkook's movements pause for a moment as he surely reminisced about the few times he had been able to talk to Jin that month.

It had been two years since Seokjin had graduated and traveled all the way to the capital to study medicine. Needless to say, it was more than clear that communication with Jin would be almost nil from then on, but Jungkook always used to pout about it.

“It's just that Jin-hyung also chose a rather demanding career.” Jungkook twisted his lips, as if suppressing Jin in his head, waving the microfiber towel over the edges of the bass.

“And the others are trying too hard to carve their way through. It can be as complicated as going out to look for a job right after graduating.”

Jungkook nodded, admiring his cleaning job with a frown. He looked so focused that it caught you by surprise when he spoke again.

“You already know if you're going to college, noona? We're graduating this year.”

You blinked once, twice, three times. His nonchalant self went back to waving the towel over nonexistent smudges as you breathed in and decided not to go that route. “Will you?”

Jungkook raised his head, pausing his movements for a moment to try to analyze your gaze. With a sigh, he let out your poorly disguised way of shifting the focus of the conversation to get up and hang the instrument, glowing, on the wall of the music room.

“I don't know yet… Namjoon-hyung says he can help me.”

“Isn't it your dream, why do you doubt it?”

“I'm not sure, noona. What if I don't measure up? What if I fail?”

When your friend turned away, the mirror to his soul showed his vulnerability dancing on the edge of his eyelids. His distrust constricted your heart, a hand closing around your throat at the inner conflicts you knew Jungkook used to have and in the face of which you often couldn't do anything about because he didn't usually share such things.

“Then you try again.”

“Noona…” Jungkook wanted to grumble, it was obvious from the way his eyes moved to the ceiling, his head cocking as if he was about to give you a big life lesson on why you can't survive on motivational phrases.

But Jungkook was a softie about such things, even if he tried to hide it.

“Jungkook, you are literally a golden promise. No process is ever easy, especially in the industry you want to get into, but don't think for a second that you're going to outgrow it. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met.”

Your friend stopped his steps, when after hanging up the bass he was returning to your post in front of you, raising his head as if caught committing a prank. But the vulnerability in his eyes remained, and by the way they shone in the dim light of the room, still blinking to try to contain the emotion, you knew your words had tugged at just that thorn in his heart you were trying to pull out.

“Thank you, noona.”

“I'm just telling the truth.” You lifted a shoulder, shaking your head nonchalantly like it was no big deal, and Jungkook just let out an amused chuckle.

“You do know we'd never forget about you, right? How could we?”

-

“How could we?”

Yuna shook her head, frowning at her phone, oblivious to the way you cringed at her choice of words.

“She's bringing celebrities into the store and she want us to leave? Don't we work so well that we always take the top employee of the month spot even though it should only be held by one person? Don't we deserve that gift?”

You watched her, marveling at how after just a few seconds so many emotions could build up into an overwhelming knot in your chest. The old notes of an old piano played in the back of your head, bringing to the surface memories of when life was easier; when you thought you had it all and nothing would ever be better than that; when you thought you were enough.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” you blinked, focusing on the notation of bills in your notebook with an invisible hand squeezing your heart.

There was no use thinking about such things after so long.

Yuna pursed her lips, her expression serious and forceful. “I think we should have a sit-in.”

“We should? That sounds like more than one person.”

“Do you disagree with me?”

“I'm happy with going home early, especially on a Friday, you know?”

“y/n,” Yuna came up to your face over the cash register display case, her forearms resting on the glass and her eyes so bright with determination you were sure her head could light the whole store on fire the way she was scheming and scheming, running around like her life depended on it, “we could be close to meeting the seven gods of Olympus, and you think the best thing to do is go home?”

“Just in case you forgot, I have a business to run now.” You reminded her, moving to poke her with your middle finger all over her forehead and push her away from the cash register now that a new customer had come in.

“What business should a business matter when you could meet the reason for existence itself?”

Yuna dropped onto the display case, her body sliding like jelly until only her head was left on the glass. You and the new customer watched her, her arms limp at her sides and her gaze lost. A lone tear running down the bridge of her nose.

“God, you're so dramatic.”

“Does that mean yes?” Her head snapped up like a spring, a big smile scaring the soul out of the customer who ducked behind your friend to run for their order.

“No and stop acting like that, you're going to scare away customers.”

Yuna whined, her exaggerated tantrum leading you to wiggle your feet all the way to the cellar.

“I'm offering you the holy grail, and this is how you pay me?”

The sound of her feet shuffling behind you kept your head sane. Even though his insinuations were baseless, your heart was pounding so hard you felt your ribs throbbing through your muscles and skin.

Your boss had written to Yuna that you two could leave the store early today because she had a private meeting to attend. She asked them to leave everything to Patrick, including clearing the store of customers and not to worry about paying for the shift, because there would be no discount at the end of the month. Yuna was faithfully and blindly convinced that your boss really wanted you to stay, because she spent almost ten minutes with her eyes glued to the screen almost without blinking, watching the 'typing…' appear and disappear under your boss's contact name. 'I'm sure she's debating how much confidence she has in us…', she said as her red eyes missed no detail of that important chat and that primordial moment, ending in an offended 'none!' when her last message came through.

In the same way, Yuna convinced herself that the meeting that would take place in the same place where your feet were planted was going to be attended by the seven entertainment kings of the country. The unmentionables, for all practical purposes. Where had she come to that conclusion? There was no foundation. Had your boss given any hints? None. Yuna had her head in the clouds believing she could meet her idols if she insisted a little longer.

“Would you really prefer to stand your friend up to meet seven men you don't even know for sure will show up here?”

“Well…if you put it that way it sounds like I'm doing something wrong.”

“Mmm, you just figured that out?”

Yuna dropped her shoulders as you took off your apron. Her tactics weren't going to work and it was time to give up. She half-heartedly opened her locker and stood looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You felt as guilty as if you had stepped on her tail by accident.

“Look, if I'm being honest, I doubt gigantically that Sol will tell you that you can stay if you ask her.”

“Not even for everything we've been through together?”

“She's still our boss, Yuna.”

Your friend mimicked your actions with a slower speed, her emotion draining away little by little. When her head cocked to the side, halfway through taking off her apron, you only sighed.

“The worst that can happen is I get fired, right?”

You weren't surprised that she was nevertheless willing to cross that line.

“That doesn't sound like much to you?”

“I can always write her a 'ha, ha, just joking' afterwards and get out of harm's way.”

You didn't contain the irresistible urge to roll your eyes and Yuna took that as her own signal or green light. Next thing you knew she was pulling out her phone and typing animatedly on the screen.

“I really don't think you should do that.”

“I have to try! Can I call myself a good fan if I don't do even the impossible?”

“You don't even know if they'll come.”

“I have a hunch.”

With her hand over her heart, Yuna sent the message and you feared for her life. While Sol was not at all close to the idea and conceptualization of a crazy and ruthlessly demanding boss, she did draw the line at several specific situations that they had both learned to respect. One of those was, of course, private meetings at her place. You and Yuna had set up the place countless times for Sol to sit quietly and chat with her most famous acquaintances, because her office was too formal to deal with them there, but her own home was extremely informal for the same purpose. The cafeteria served as a middle ground, the perfect place to be comfortable when talking business.

“Patrick is coming.” Yuna spoke again and by the way her eyes didn't leave the screen you could tell Sol hadn't responded yet.

“I wish you the best of luck, Yuna.”

“Thank you! Coming from you it's a blessing, indeed.”

“And why's that?”

You finally stood up, closing your locker with your strap bag over your right shoulder. You were ready to leave while your friend was still biting her index fingernail waiting for an almost impossible and inconceivable message from her boss.

“What else can I expect from the writer who blew up overnight and is soon going to be one of the New York Times bestsellers and famous worldwide?”

“Ah,” you turned your head, unable to contain inwardly the way a warmth settled in your chest; you still had a hard time accepting how things had turned out, but as long as you couldn't control the influx of orders that had to take a back seat, “smooth.”

Yuna smiled and when her eyes met yours you swore she was about to tell you one more time how proud she was of you, but her phone vibrated in her hands and the last thing you saw her eyes widen exaggeratedly before her scream shook the foundations of the store and almost the entire city.

“SHE SAID YES!!!!”

-

Arriving home unleashed immeasurable chaos.

As soon as you opened the front door, a river of books fell like dominoes, with your father's groans and your mother's screams in the background, the sound of your work echoing in your head like lightning as stomping echoed through the house.

“Seojun, I told you to be careful walking…!”The angry expression on your mother's face disappeared the moment she recognized your face, her features softening as she knew it was her daughter. “Honey. What are you doing here so early?”

“Is that y/n?” your dad's exclamation rang out from the kitchen.

“Yes!” your mom yelled back.

The welcome was nice, but things only got more and more tedious from then on. On the one hand, you had your father telling you about accounts, numbers and multiplications of how much you had to take out of your pocket to pay for the prints, how much you would make if you sold all the books you had printed and how much you would get back, and on the other hand you had your mother telling you about the countless publishers who had written to your dm's seeking to sponsor the sale of your books, taking advantage of the boom that had been generated by the phenomenon that was Kim Taehyung.

Seojun, who had decided to move back home for the weekend to help with whatever was needed, was telling you that they had had to hire five different deliverymen -three of them trucks- to be able to deliver as many orders a day as possible, while vehemently hitting your father's forearm to remind him to include that in the accounts.

Your father was in charge of everything related to money, your mother of the direct communication with customers and Seojun of the orders; everything was done by them, with Yuna's help when she was not working, with the excuse that after so many years you just had to sit down and enjoy the fruit of your sowing without any worries.

But at that moment, when they had just let go and thrown all their worries at your feet, they stared at you expectantly.

"We need a loan."

Your mother jumped in her chair. "That's what I said!"

"That's not necessary." Your father shook his head, as he surely would have done when your mother suggested the idea judging by the expression that had planted itself on her face. "Take a loan from my wallet, but don't do business with those bankers. They'll gouge your eyes out with interest."

"Or take a publisher's offer. They'll take care of all this." Seojun pointed out, his long black hair brushing his eyebrows even though he shook it nonchalantly so he could get a good look at the three of them.

"Publishers can be freeloaders too." Your mother counter-argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, yeah? How many publishers have you signed on with to assert that?"

"Wow, careful with that tone, Mr. Lawyer." Your father pointed at your brother, while your mother only raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seojun sank into the chair, barely dragging an apology through his teeth.

"It's not a bad idea either, Dad."

His brown eyes returned to meet your gaze and you noticed the hesitation in them.

"Well, ultimately, it's your decision, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder.

"I say we should listen to the lawyer."

"Hey!" Seojun frowned, straightening up on the chair. "Don't put such a big responsibility on me!"

Your father snorted. "But then weren't you comfortable a while ago giving orders and saying that I don't know what thing you had already seen it in class and that's why you knew what we had to do?"

"Dad…" Seojun elongated.

"Are you ready for such a position or not, Seojun? Tell me to start looking for another lawyer."

Your mother barely contained her laughter, only because of the offended sideways glance her own son sent her way. Laughter blossomed in your chest, too, like a big breath of fresh air in a field of flowers. You didn't know you needed that moment so badly until the tension disappeared from your shoulders as you laughed with your parents and your brother grumbled with his arms crossed.

-

A new batch of orders just went out - thank you so much for your purchases!

You looked at the story your mom had uploaded to Instagram in the solitude of your bedroom. The rest of the day was spent strategizing and planning marketing ideas that would likely lead you to ruin. In a defeated silence, you admitted that Yuna was really needed.

You had texted your friend a while ago, as the sunset was beginning to paint the sky with colors, but she still hadn't even checked her phone. Her last connection was a few minutes after you left at noon. You decided not to insist, even though you were a little curious about who had finally shown up at the store.

The best thing about that busy rest of the afternoon was that you'd been able to keep yourself busy enough to completely ignore the way you'd been whipped up by a few memories that morning in Yuna's company. A simple question had caused all that. And of course, with a heart as weak as a chick's and willpower almost non-existent, you let yourself be pulled right in that moment of loneliness into the well of memories.

“Jungkookie?”

Your voice pierced the silence and a shiver ran through your body as the darkness greeted you back. A few minutes passed after you plunged into the completely darkened room, walking tentatively and slowly inside, you heard a movement just outside the door you had just entered.

“Noona…”

You couldn't see him, but you didn't need to. The sobs that filled the room were enough to be able to guide you through that darkness, as indistinguishable as coal, and wrap your arms around his hunched figure on the floor beside the door.

The house was alone and as dark as that room the last night Jungkook would be there. Passing through the empty corridors of his house was a torment, but you could only imagine how your friend would feel in his place, unable to stop time as it slipped through his fingers.

Several times he had already told you that he didn't want to leave. You didn't think he meant it.

“They're waiting for you downstairs.”

“I know. I don't want to go, noona.” Jungkook moved his arms to wrap around your waist in a desperate grip, his erratic breathing against your neck breaking your heart. “I want to stay. It doesn't matter if I never become an idol. That's not important.”

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to leave you…”

His halting voice was barely understandable, trying to be muffled by the jacket you were wearing that night when you went to see him off and didn't find him in the car with his parents. The heater seemed not to be a worthy opponent for that cold night.

“Jungkook, you're not going to leave me. We'll keep in touch. Why do you worry so much?”

“I don't want to be like them,” his pained voice pierced your chest; the movement of his body from the way the sobs were attacking him was almost uncontainable. “I don't want this distance.”

“Change is always hard, Jungkookie, but I promise you we'll be in touch always. I'll do my best to make it so.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I'll even come visit you as soon as I can.”

“No. I said I was going to pay for your trip.”

“See? You're not going to leave me.”

“Still I'm scared, noona. What if I'm not enough for them? What if I can't raise enough for you to come live with us?”

“You are enough, Jungkook. From the tips of your fingers to the tips of your hair, there's nothing about you that won't allow you to achieve your dreams, understand? You are destined to be a star. I know it's hard to leave behind everything you know in life, but believe me it will all be worth it. You will come out on top and you will succeed.”

“Noona…” Jungkook cried again, burying his face in your neck once more, clinging to you like the anchor that carried him to the surface of the ocean; the ocean shaped by his own tears. “I… don't… want… to… go…”

The hiccups that attacked him from his intense crying made it difficult for him to speak and you hadn't felt such pain even when the other boys left. There were tears shared, promises whispered and hugs that lasted longer than they should have, but no one had clung to your body as if they feared you were going to disappear at any moment and wanted to seize every second before the impending end.

“It's okay, Jungkookie,” you ran your hands up and down his back trying to calm his crying, trying to control your own as treacherous tears rolled down your cheeks with the darkness as your witness. “We'll meet again. You can wait for me. Then we can melt into another embrace and say how much we miss each other.”

Your phone vibrated on the bed, the notification startling you with its aggressiveness. Another vibration followed that one and then another. Turning on the screen, you found that half an hour had passed since you'd last seen the clock, and in passing you came across Yuna's name on the caller ID. You sighed, remembering the effusiveness with which she said goodbye in the afternoon and mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.

"Hey," you greeted, mildly surprised that her exclamations hadn't reached your ear first to interrupt your greeting.

"y/n, how were sales today?" her calm voice filled your hearing and a slight wrinkle implanted itself between your brows.

"Mmm, it was all good. We have several domiciliary and the prints are coming out with the deadlines arranged. With Seojun we considered that maybe taking on a publisher wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure yet."

You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling, shallowly biting your nails, waiting for the moment when Yuna would burst out, but it didn't come.

"Oh, yeah. We'll have to consider that. I'll go early tomorrow morning to seize the day." Yuna answered quietly, with the faint sound of things stirring in the background of the call. Surely she had just arrived at her apartment.

"Yuna?"

"Mhm?"

"How was the afternoon?"

"Oh, it was normal, really," she replied, her voice flat, as if the thought had barely crossed her mind since the moment she'd left the coffee shop. "I didn't see anyone memorable."

"Ah, so your knights in shining armor didn't attend?"

"Sadly, no." Yuna sighed, her unchanging attitude finding a little more sense in your head. She sounded more tired than anything.

You talked a bit more with Yuna before she excused herself to go about her evening routine and finally get some rest, specifically stressing to you how boring the whole afternoon had been and how every second she only thought about going home. You also told her a bit more about the ideas you and your father had half-heartedly spun as marketing strategies, but very earnestly your friend asked you not to do anything until she was there.

When her name disappeared from your caller ID, an Instagram notification popped up at the top of your home screen. The vibration felt like the pounding of a sledgehammer against wood, your sentence handed down with no chance of appeal, the blood in your veins freezing and an endless emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

jeonjungkook97 just followed you!

It was followed by the notification of a message from Yuna.

Unnie | 19:01 holy shit. jungkook just followed you on ig, right?

No fucking way. Another fucking account to block.

-

It wasn't like you couldn't deal with them. You had been doing it for about ten years. But now they just seemed to want to throw themselves in front of your face one by one and you weren't strong enough to handle that. Maybe your resolve needed to be more forceful; maybe you should be sure you hated them instead of feeling like your body was shaking and you could melt like jelly in the sun every time you felt they were one step closer to you. For a while, that was all you wanted; to find them; to be found. But now…?

The weekend was spent in a hodgepodge of managing your book sales and the seesaw of emotions you had in the face of the estranged but impactful actions of your old friends. You tried not to think about it too much; you really tried, but it was very difficult. It was easier to let the memories wash over you instead of diligently packing up the books on which you had squandered your blood and tears.

Your books, yes, that was the most important thing.

From the posts and hashtags, even though it had only been a couple of days, you could see that some people -those who had actually read the books- were already posting their opinions and reviews and you knew you had had plenty of time to prepare for that moment, but you really weren't ready to face it. You didn't know what it was; whether it was the pollen, the aligned planets, PMS, mercury retrograde… but all of those things were weighing you down too much recently and you weren't ready to hear the opinions.

And you couldn't help but keep asking yourself why? Having spent so much time, between so many experiences and so many personal changes, why now they decided that they would come back into your life? How dare they after ruining your life by completely abandoning you? Many times you wondered what was missing in you; what was never enough for them… sometimes you believed that this was how it was meant to be; just the seven of them, before you came along. It was always them seven first, then you.

Between lows and highs, between sadness and joy, you still had to keep working.

"Get rid of that face if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you." Yuna crossed the cafeteria in front of you, picking up some glasses and plates on the table as lunchtime approached.

"I don't have any face."

"You've been in a somber mood since Saturday. You look dead."

You clicked your tongue, taking advantage of the fact that the store was nearly empty to do the math. "Don't be over the top."

"I'm just being honest and genuinely concerned about my friend, can you blame me?" Yuna reached the sink and simply left the dishes there to approach the cash register. Your eyes refused to meet hers, unsheathing a strange annoyance in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm fine," you moved the money automatically, doing the math in the back of your head as second nature, "don't worry so much."

"Ok, if you don't want to tell me about it at least try to distract yourself a little, why don't you take an extra half hour for lunch?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Sol would never know."

"I'm not going to do that."

Yuna pouted, dropping her chin onto the back of her hand. You knew she was about to fly you out of that chair the moment all the bills were safeguarded.

A whiplash of pain shot through your chest at the alternative of having to leave the cafeteria, alone, hovering with your thoughts once again, as you tried to shove the food down your throat. But Yuna happily dragged you out of the cafeteria, leaving you in the middle of the street with your little bag and lunch money, wishing you a happy break as she wandered off once more to deal with the sparse crowd of customers alone.

Maybe you should have told her you'd rather not eat than be alone, but…

That was the story of your life.

So you walked to that restaurant a couple of blocks away, where they sold the cheapest food in the area, and waited patiently while answering Yuna's messages to clear your mind.

Going through your social networks, you once again came across the cover of your books in the pre-viewing of a video and felt the bile in your throat. Let's see, you were happy. Or well, you were trying to convince yourself because you still had that bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that wouldn't let you enjoy this blast like you should and it had a first and last name of its own. But, generally speaking, it was great that your books were selling, forgetting all the other circumstances that led to that happening.

So, standing in front of those videos, you were tormented by not being able to watch them. A self-published author should be prepared for that kind of thing. No, any author should be. Sharing your art with the world implicitly entailed confronting the world's expression in front of it. It was inevitable, of course, and it was also the energy that could start an engine or the fingers that put out the match. At that precise moment, you still didn't want to know what your destiny was.

You hated that. You hated feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Why was life so heavy if you had just begun to live it?

Ah, too much pondering for one lunch.

And to think this all started with an Instagram story.

Having an existential crisis because you couldn't stand dealing with the stress and pressure of the extreme demand you were having and because of mixed feelings for a bunch of idiots resurfacing after so many years was one of the last things you thought you'd have to go through that year. Fuck, or ever in your entire life.

Taehyung might have done you a favor as well as a disservice.

But that's how you spent a while longer, as you walked back to the coffee shop, the noise of the city not being enough to quell the bustle of thoughts crashing against each other in your head.

Being in the eye of the hurricane, however, didn't mean you were safe. You barely had a breath of fresh air before the eyewall hit you hard once again.

"Noona…?"

You froze a few steps away from the cafeteria. You feared not only the way you immediately recognized the voice, but the way your body froze, fear, panic and uncertainty clouding your sense.

You were in the alley behind the coffee shop. You didn't usually go in that way, but you had taken a slightly longer way back, only because you were too busy thinking about whether or not your body was up to a longer walk.

You were so close to the door that you could almost hear Yuna's voice on the other side, barely muffled by the beeping that echoed in your ears as panic took over your body.

You didn't want to turn around. Your body was having every possible negative reaction, as if it was fighting an infection, the lunch you had just shoved down your throat seeking to make its way back into your mouth and the feeling of dizziness momentarily clouded you.

Was this how you planned to react if you ever saw them again? Was this how you acted out the scenarios you imagined in your head at night when your memories went back to the last time you saw them?

The only difference between those imaginings and what was happening at that moment was that before you could prepare yourself; you knew what was coming; you had control. Now? Your legs were about to give out, the weight of your body too much to bear.

And you wanted to mock the pathetic behavior you were engaging in. You should turn around, slap him and scream at him that you never wanted to see him again. But your heart was beating and feeling and… how could you deny it anything after so many years of being neglected?

But maybe you were imagining it. The little sleep you had this weekend and all the memories you dragged from the trunk since you saw that Instagram notification must have made you crazy enough that you heard voices, his voice, anywhere… you were still near a busy street, it could be anyone-

"y/n."

And, yet…

You didn't turn around knowing what it would entail to give his voice a face, even though you could madly and frankly recall every line of its length, and you spoke harshly through your teeth even though your labored breathing made your chest heave.

"What are you doing here?"

"Noona… you're really here."

You cringed as you heard his footsteps and clutched with inhuman speed at the lock on the door in front of you.

"I asked you a fucking question: what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

The silence didn't give you an answer, but you could glimpse it. With your patience on edge and years of emotional repression it was impossible for you to deduce how you would react in such a case, but it didn't seem too far-fetched, even if Jungkook's surprised inspiration said he didn't expect you to be so harsh and rude.

As if you cared.

—Yes you did care, in fact, that's why your heart was beating wildly against your ribs, the choking sensation increasing, the nerves on edge and the tears all over the corners of your eyes, but you had to stand your ground. After so, so long… why, why, why, why?—

"I… I…" Jungkook seemed to be having trouble finding his voice, even though in his profession the words came melodiously and easily out of his mouth. If you turned to look at him, you might have noticed that his face went from happiness to anguish with the speed a bullet goes through a field, "I wanted to see you…"

He sounded so small. The five-foot-ten-plus man, who you're sure was almost a head and a half taller than you, might as well have been a badly wounded puppy behind you. You knew from the way he spoke that he was holding back tears, but you didn't let that sway you. He didn't deserve it.

"Who gave you the right to come here?"

You didn't let him answer, not knowing if he was even going to, tightening the lock on the door you were about to walk through at any moment, bile in your throat making you fear the fall as if you were at the top of a skyscraper.

"How the fuck did you even find me?"

"Well, I-"

"I don't fucking want to know!"

You cut him off, the dryness and venom in your voice making you tremble. You were so sad, so distraught and so angry at the same time.

"And I don't want to see you. So leave."

"Noona…"

"Fucking leave, Jeon, for fuck's sake!"

You moved, almost as if by inertia, opening the door and slamming it behind you, the noise so deafening that it echoed in your ears for several seconds until you heard Yuna's footsteps approaching you and felt her arms wrap around your body.

You didn't know what she was saying, you just leaned against the door and let yourself fall, your body shaking in cry after uncontrollable cry, truly wondering how everything had gone so far; wondering how, after so many years, you still allowed them to have that power over you; a power they didn't deserve and shouldn't have.

You felt shattered in that moment, every piece of you scattered in the hold, every moment of your life replaying on its glassy, sharp edges. Even with half of you staying afloat, Yuna held you until the tears stopped flowing and with renewed resolve you promised yourself that this was never going to happen again.

Jungkook had taken you by surprise, but from now on none of them would ever catch you off guard.

-

a/n: i dont really know what to think about this chap. sometimes i like it sometimes i dont. i guess thats just how it works. pls letme know what you think! thank u for all the support! <3

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592 @yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US #DRABBLE - HOW YOU MET HIM

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 1046

MAIN STORY HERE.

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 16 years old.

“Do you know that girl?” Jungkook asks Jimin as he sits beside him in class, and throws his backpack at his feet. Jimin arches a brow.

“Which one?” Jimin replies, scanning the classroom with his eyes. Jimin is popular in their high school. Not only is he handsome, but also really nice and charming, and for good reason.

Jungkook gained popularity shortly after Jimin, mostly because he’s Jimin’s best friend and also for his shy, cute bunny smile. Jungkook continues, pointing to the girl sitting next to the window in the last row.

“Y/N? The girl who got in a fight earlier?” Jimin frowns, his eyes fixed on you as you stuff a tissue into your bloody nose. Jungkook nods, his doe-like eyes falling on you too. He was there when you threw your tray at a girl who had tried to bully you.

He followed the scene from a distance. That girl came straight to you, screaming, mostly to get everyone’s attention. Apparently, the fight was about the girl's boyfriend cheating on her with you, but Jungkook didn't really understand the situation.

It was crazy for Jungkook. He had only kissed a girl once. He found it unimaginable that two sixteen-year-old girls would fight over one sleeping with the other's boyfriend. Well, he knew that most of the girls now were bolder than in his parents’ years.

However, that still wasn’t a good reason for the girl to grab your face and shove it into your food. Although he opposed violence, he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction when you hit her with your tray, jumped over the table, and started throwing punches at her face.

He couldn't deny being impressed by your ferocity. Like every other student, he watched you two fought on the floor until two professors intervened to separate you.

Despite being restrained by the professor, who was blocking both your arms, you still had a fistful of her hair and tried to kick her with your foot, while she coughed on the floor.

“Y/N” Jungkook repeats your name as Jimin raises an eyebrow.

“Why?” Jimin questions, turning his attention back to his friend. “Honestly, it’s the first time I have heard something like that about her. Y/N is usually calm and drama-free,” Jimin continues, as Jungkook nods, his eyes still on you, and you feel it, turning your gaze to him before frowning.

His eyes widen, and he quickly looks down at his table. When he shyly glances up again, you’re already gone from your seat, and his brows furrow in a frown as he searches for you with his brown eyes, only to find you stepping out of the class, leaving your stuff at your table. At least you’ll come back, he thinks.

“Kookie!” Jimin calls out loud to Jungkook, who turns to him, “Aren’t you coming with us? We’re going to grab some snacks and head to Hongdae.”

Jungkook scrunches up his nose, shaking his head. He likes arcades, like every boy his age. However, he doesn't know half of the people in the group with Jimin. He's aware that the girl with short light hair, hopelessly looking at him for a positive answer, is trying to flirt with him.

He hates feeling uncomfortable when he's supposed to be enjoying himself with his friends. Jungkook is also too nice to simply tell her he’s not interested. He has homework to finish anyway.

After waving at his friend, he starts to make his way home. He’ll probably be alone. His parents are working, and his brother left for college a while ago. After grabbing a snack at the convenient store, he ends up sitting on a bench at the park, a spot he sometimes stops at with Jimin. Then, he sees you, and his eyes widen as he watches you with a little boy. Is he yours? He chuckles at himself.

The boy seems four or five years old. It was dumb of him to even think that. With a slight smile on his lips, he doesn't even notice that you’ve seen him too. You ruffle the boy's hair before letting him run off to play with the other kids, then make your way to him. Only now does he notice the bruise under your left eye.

“What are you looking at, chestnut?” You call him out, and he freezes, mumbling something as he nearly drops his chocolate bar.

“I- Wh- Me?” Jungkook babbles in a small voice as you stop right in front of him, hands in your pockets.

“Do you see anyone else around here with such a ridiculous haircut?” You raise a brow, and his cheeks flush as he tries to fix his hair, but it only makes it worse—and he knows it. “It’s the second time I catch you staring at me. What do you want?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. His eyes fall on his shoes.

“Nothing.” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze. You sense his discomfort. He’s clearly not part of the group of friends of the girl you beat up earlier. That’s enough to make your features relax slightly.

“I’m Y/N”, you say, more gently this time, offering your hand.

“Jungkook.” He smiles softly, meeting your eyes and shaking your hand.

“I know. Everyone knows you, Jungkook.” you chuckle. He sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Unfortunately.”

“You don’t like being the prince of our school?” You tease him as he rolls his eyes, taking a bite of his chocolate bar.

“It's Jimin's title, not mine.” He corrects you. You always get their names mixed up, even though you know them, since you haven’t paid much attention to who’s who. His eyes fall back on your black eye. “That’s a colorful one,” he says, attempting to make conversation, though the words sound stupid as soon as they leave his mouth.

It was probably too bold of him, and you probably hate him now. But to his surprise, you smirk and brush the bruise under your eye.

You raise your shoulders, sit next to him, “She got worse.”

“Yeah, I saw the hair and blood on the floor.” he grins, shaking his head. When you laugh, he feels something new stir inside his chest—something he’s never felt before.

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

[planet-hwa]

୨୧  bad boy facade masterlist – 산

  ୨୧  summary     sometimes the good boys are actually bad, and the bad boys are actually good — but sometimes they're exactly as they seem. choi san was the stereotypical definition of a bad boy: arrogant, careless, manipulative, seductive fuckboy who could have any girl wrapped around his finger with a wink of his eye. i mean... they do say "all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you". so when the infamous bad boy of the town got transferred to your school, he was surrounded by girls desperate for his attention within minutes, all wanting the chance to "fix him" — every single one but you. your best friend, yeosang, warned you to never get mixed up with san, knowing it would end with him picking up pieces of your broken heart. but how could you stay away once he looked at you with so much emotion behind his cold eyes?

pairing     badboy!san x reader  genre     high school au, strangers to lovers slow burn word count     — status     incomplete

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

general warnings MDNI !! mentions of gang affiliations, drugs, drinking and smoking, criminal behaviour, family issues, toxic relationships, smut (♨ on chapters that include smut) — more extent warnings will be on each post

   ↳   navigation  ◦  full masterlist  ◦  san masterlist  ◦  requests

chapter 1   the writing on the wall [due feb 16th] chapter 2   honesty vs. dishonesty   [due feb 23rd] chapter 3   jealousy is a disease   [due mar 2nd] chapter 4   liberation is a cure   [due mar 9th] chapter 5   a romantic homicide   [due mar 16th] chapter 6   you’re gonna wish  [due mar 23rd] chapter 7   you never met me   [due mar 30th] chapter 8   smoke and fire   [due apr 6th] chapter 9   show me who you are   [due apr 13th] chapter 10   trick or treat   [due apr 20th] chapter 11   remorse can’t hide   [due apr 27th] chapter 12   remission can be found   [due may 4th] chapter 13   bringing heaven   [due may 11th] chapter 14   why am i staying?   [due may 18th] chapter 15   you’re why i must stay   [due may 25th] chapter 16   said you’re a wild mistake   [due jun 1st] chapter 17.1   i love you, so?   [due jun 8th] chapter 17.2   please, let me go   [due jun 15th] chapter 18   fatal trouble   [due jun 22nd] chapter 19   cuts always bleed   [due jun 29th] chapter 20   moonstruck   [due jul 6th] chapter 21   starstruck   [due jul 13th] chapter 22   is it casual now?   [due jul 20th] chapter 23   lust for love   [due jul 27th] chapter 24   lust for life   [due aug 3rd] chapter 25   has been erased   [due aug 10th]

   ↳   releases at 10:07pm AEDT

  ୨୧  taglist    @morethingsfandom @solaris-amethyst @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @baby-stay92 @autieofthevalley @liveloveseonghwa @dejatiny @mortal-advocate @dreamsoffanfics @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @dalsuwaha @nevieatiny @woateez @choizlover @foreveryxunggg @woosmaid @yeosannie4 @auroras-colors @mintchocosan @jjongbearsies @frzzenfrxg @sanniebabes @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @eyesonlyformingi @sannies-tiddies @honeyjongie @rainteez02 @robertsbbygirl @mingisgf999 @atzz8 @moonlight-hwa @chrryjoong @sanhwalvr @cloudysannie @atxxzist @choisansplushie @starz-choisanii @slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @jerseygirlzzzxx @mzngi (tell me if you want to be added or removed | tagged in each chapter)

[yadchi-i-guess]

Nori having a taste for oil was no surprise to Khan. A taste for his oil? Not surprising either. She was his wife, after all. A taste for his oil when she's low on hers? Little more unsettling... but that's still his wife, right?

Fic inspired by this post from @sicksucculentz, fic title from the lyrics of "Control" by Halsey, extra help from @electronix-arts.

Word count: 3,812

Also available on Ao3 here!

"Right there... easy, easy... and stop! Righty-o, lemme weld this bad boy in place..."

Khan clambered up his ladder, welding torch in calloused hand, and he set about reinforcing door two with a thick sheet of iron. Sparks grazed his face like bullets, peppering his arms with small pricks of heat. He vaguely wondered if it was what Nori felt if she stood in the sun (but turned up to 11).

"Brilliant idea of Nori’s, hm?" Khan heard Makrov say to Braxton. His hand nearly slipped as he heard his wife’s name being uttered... or perhaps it was from his bad grip on the torch.

"I'll say," the latter replied. "Them murder drones nearly got through this door a month ago. I'm fairly certain if they went for it again without reinforcement, their claws would've shredded it..."

Khan readjusted his grip, steadying it successfully but struggling to hold it down to the metal. He grit his teeth and felt mysteriously programmed sweat trickling down his face. A small line of text in the corner of his vision read:

HIGH TEMP. REDUCE ACTIVITY LEVEL.

Fortunately, it came up right as he finished fixing the metal to the door."

Well, don't have to worry about that anymore," the WDF leader said breathlessly as he slid down the ladder. "Woof... forgot how much strain welding puts on this old man."

"You good, sir?" Makrov asked, putting the back of his hand against Khan's digitally wrinkled forehead. "You're running a bit hot."

"I'm fine, Makarov," Khan said with a chuckle. "But if my wife was in earshot, you would have your arm severed at best."

"She's pretty, I'd let her do that."

"Hey now, tone it down a little, heh... I know she's a catch, but she's claimed me as her own."

Makrov rolled his optics playfully, muttering something in Russian before turning to Todd, who seemed to be doing something wrong with the wiring; however, that was the least of Khan's concerns when he heard his phone buzzing a storm in his pocket.

Nori: dude where ru??? Thought u said fixing that door would take half an hour at most

Khan: I thought it would. Sorry... we ran into a spot of trouble with finding a welding torch.

Nori: hurry home im booooooooooored

Khan huffed and stuck his phone back in his pocket. He gave a nod to his three cronies as he turned to leave.

"You boys got it from here, yeah?" He said to them as he clicked his tongue. "Wife’s been waiting for me to return home since yesterday."

"O-oh! Well, don't let us keep you waitin' on your kooky beloved," Todd said with a grin. "Later boss!"

"Careful Todd, she might've come and de-limbed you if you said that to her face," Makrov said seriously.

The group behind Khan arose in snorts and giggles, most of which were directed at his murderous wife. He didn't mind. He was used to their playful jeering and pokes of fun at Nori... it mattered about as much as her strange witchy powers: Just a mere obstacle in the way of his unrequited love for her.

Robo-god, just thinking about her was enough to make him a bit dizzy. The way she flustered every time he make an attempt to show affection, whether a tender word or a hand stroking the back of her head. The way she obsessed over her drawing and nonsensical scribbles... shoving them in his face and getting a wide, childish grin on her face when he told her he wanted to know more...

Oh and those fangs.

When Nori let her lips peel back and show every centimeter of those monstrous chompers... he couldn't help but be helplessly enamored by every angle of those glistening, snow-white (and just as blackened) teeth. They were made to bite something, to let Nori sink them into flesh without a second thought...

Khan did find it somewhat odd that she'd always cover her mouth if she caught him staring at her fangs. He wasn't sure why, exactly... perhaps it was an insecurity of hers. He was familiar with those; it took him weeks to convince her that he liked her wings and tail after he accidentally caught her sleeping upside down like those bat creatures humans wrote about in books.

He shrugged to himself and quickened his pace, realizing only now that he really wanted to be with his wife.

--------

CRUNCH!

The empty corpse that had become Nori’s latest chew toy groaned as its metal structure collapsed under the raw power of her jaw shutting close around it. Her tongue snaked forward, licking the cruor caked on the interior of the outer shell. It came back almost completely empty handed. She groaned, biting down and gnawing at the metal a few more times before yanking a chunk free from the torso.

The metal served as little sustenance for her overheating body. It was food, yes... but metal couldn't extinguish the blazing fire in her stomach.

She'd had much worse instances of being low on oil than this, thankfully... the problem began when her scent receptors became so fine-tuned to the reek of oil that it basically made her a bloodhound for the stuff. Unfortunately, her entire home contained traces of oil everywhere.

She knew it was getting worse when her wings scrabbled and twitched in her back casing. She hissed at it, scratching her back and picking open old scabs.

"Rrrgh... c-cut it out..." she whimpered. "I'll get oil in a bit..."

To be fair, it was probably her fault for not being aware of when she needed more oil. The stuff was getting scarce in a bunker warding off sky demons as people tended to die left and right. Sometimes she could venture outside and vulture off of nearby carcasses the demons left behind.

No time for that now, when her absolute hunk of a husband was coming home imminently.

But almost as if her mind had snapped it into existence, the scent of oil reached her scent receptors... that heavenly smell of the gods that could satisfy her monstrous thirst.

Nori giggled a little, hating herself for doing it as she walked over to the door to go find who had let the restless ravager crawling under her skin take the bait of its next meal.

Oil had a very general but alluring scent... sweet like honey to a bear and addictive like magnesium. But when existing as the lifeblood of a drone, they'd give it extra, unique scents... as Nori approached the door, she smelled more sweet things... gooey marshmallow... the strange but delectable taste of white chocolate.

Then it slamned her right in the face. Both the door and a realization.

"O-Oh robo-god, sorry," Khan stammered, kneeling down to help her up. "I was just excited to see you - you good, Nori?"

She rubbed the spot on her face where the glass had shattered but was reforming against her will, then she looked up.

Why the hell did I tell him to come home?!?! The rapidly declining rational part of Nori’s CPU screamed.

"I-I'm fine, idiot," Nori said shakily, not fighting off Khan giving her a kiss on the cheek. He was so close... so close to the alligator snapping turtle that would lunge at his face for a greedy bite of food.

Bite him... bite him. You know you want to.

Her lips parted shakily, taking her jaw with them and poised to sink into Khan's right cheek... just as he pulled away. She forced a hand over her mouth (which felt like it was locked open) and bit on part of her glove's finger, hoping the demons would cease.

"You good, amethyst...?" Khan asked, tilting his head.

"Y-yeah, you know I don't like you looking at my teeth!" Nori invented, hoping he didn't pick up on the saliva staining her glove.

"Aw hon... you know I don't mind em at all."

Nori shut her eyes as a brilliant violet blush adorned her facescreen, which got a chuckle out of her husband. She hated that he loved it, mostly because of how easily she got flustered by the hunk...

"Ugh! Just fricking bite me!" she spat as she looked up into his pure white eyes... so unknowing of the monster on the brink of insanity standing in front of him... his pungent body a feast to a solver drone... he looked so... good...

Do it do it do it do it to him bite him bite him bite hi-

"Heh... maybe some other time, I'm beat," Khan replied. "However... I'd be up for a go on that boss level of Astro Bot, yeah?"

"H-huh?" Nori stammered. "O-oh yeah. You can totally kick that gorilla's butt today. I-if you want."

She watched him walk off towards the couch to play said game, then delivered a sharp slap to her face, livid with herself.

The amount of things wrong with her was near incomprehensible... the demon housed inside her, forced to be her roommate thanks to those humans, felt bigger than her body. It ached to be free and lure her into maiming Khan like a hungry fiend for a meal.

Demons didn't understand love... it didn't understand she loved the man with all her meaty core. It only understood the need to satisfy bloodlust. She couldn't leave him to go find some food... it'd take too long and she'd come back covered in carnage. Surely he'd know something was wrong.

Maybe she could stave the hunger off for an hour or so while she watched him play... couldn't be that bad.

--------

Nope. It was that bad.

Nori had been watching Khan struggle with the game's first boss for 25 minutes (when she could've pummeled it in two), and due to his growing exhaustion, the odor that his SWEET, MOUTHWATERING oil was giving off had nothing better to do other than maliciously taunt her.

It was right there... driving her insane, waiting smugly for her to strike and lose her mind at it. But she couldn't give in. If she did, who knows what kind of condition her Khan would be in once she regained sense? If he was even there at all?

It wasn't helping that the more she stared at him, the less he looked familiar and recognizable as friend over foe or prey. Nori leaned a little closer, testing the waters ever so cautiously, her eyes reverting to a more feral expression as overheating warnings cycled through on her HUD.

Just a little nip, just a little bite... bite him bite himbitehimbitehim-

Oh, now he was leaning on her. How on Copper-9 could she pull away?? And the reek was so much stronger... so much sweeter... she needed it... needed to crack him open like a can of soda and let his insides gush into her mouth-

"Rrrrrgh... c'mon, I'm RIGHT there at the end, and this thing has the audacity to knock me off the platform?!" Khan grumbled, lightly bonking his head on Nori’s to cheer himself up.

"O-oh... w-well yo-ou can let m-me t-try...?" Nori added, her voice strained from wanting to elicit growls and giggles.

BitehimbitehimbitehimbiteHIMBITEHIMBITEHIM-

"Nah... I'm gonna get it this time!" Khan said with reinvigorated determination. "...say, you look like you wanna give me attention, amethyst.

"That got some sense wedged back in Nori’s head. Her eyes relented from their crazed, hungry beast look, and she sat up on her knees. Angered that she had resisted giving in, the demon made her fingers jittery and tap her knee caps.

"...w-whatcha mean?"

"Well... I just figured you'd like to give your old man a kiss."

...oh no, squeaked the last shreds of Nori’s sensibility.

He had said it. The thing that Nori was dreading would set the monster free. And push her into the backseat of her mind.

A giggle melded with the hint of a sob bubbled in her throat, her violet eyes wiped off to make space for the tri-pronged symbol. An unrefined form of death's X but arguably more dangerous, as it resided not within the visible enemy.

He leaned towards her, offering his cheek for a kiss, which she took all too gladly. Her bared fangs closed the gap between them and latched onto his flesh, puncturing it open. She heard a yell reach her audio receptors from somewhere, but that wasn't important.

What was important was that sweet ambrosia... it was hers. All hers to feast on!

Oil trickled out of the punctures like a dribble of saliva from a starving solver drone. She sucked on his cheek like a vampire bat. A twisted idea of a lover's kiss.

The screams faded in volume, but they wouldn't go away.She felt fingers firmly grasp her molars, but before she could chew them up into a snack, they frantically pried her fangs off of her catch. She snarled, unafraid of shoving teeth in her target's face, and only vaguely aware of the fleshy weight on her back.

BITEHIMBITEHIMHUNGRYBITEHIMBITEHIMBITEHIMBITEHIM-!

She listened to the demons, lunging forward again and hitting a jackpot. She had hit a spot with much more surface area.

More blood for the blood god.

Her jaw connected with her vampiric upper fangs, cooperating to rip off a piece of flesh. A stream of oil spurted in her face like a hose, earning a giggle of delight. She clamped down on the area again, taking whatever godly nectar was bleeding out of this diety and sucking it into the vacuum of her throat.

Why hadn't she bitten him earlier? What logical thought had restrained her for so long from his oil? Her mind, driven mad to the point of sadism made it taste even sweeter. She dug her claws a little further into his back and side, excited by the scent of more spots to sink her fangs into.

Nori's tongue flicked around on the deep bite marks, lapping up excess ambrosia that had trickled out of his shoulder. Even without her teeth hooked into his flesh, he seemed awfully still...

Too still, for her liking.

"Y-you done...?" A gravelly yet clear voice croaked.

It wiped the tri-pronged symbol off her face faster than any crucifix ever would.

She glanced up, holding onto whatever shred of denial as tightly as she held the man, praying it wasn't him that she preyed on.

Yet she couldn't mistake that tooth white glint in his concerned, pained eyes.

Nori wrenched her fangs out of Khan's shoulder with a shuddering cry, her tongue involuntarily licking at whatever stained her canines and incisors. Her panicked breath came short and sharp. Khan said something, but her mind was too overwhelmed with the fact she had bitten him- no, shredded his shoulder - to make his words coherent.

She could still see oil leaking out and staining his jacket. It tempted her like she hadn't had a sip in days. Khan's arm reached forward, baiting the demons to come out again. She slapped it away hastily. She didn't need more, she was fine...

She just wanted more.

"G-get AWAY from me!" Nori choked behind her hands, trying to choke out what she had swallowed.

"Nori... I-I'm OK..." Khan insisted. "J-just a little tired..."

No, he was more than tired. He was hurt, bleeding, nearing the brink of death from one wound his own monster of a wife inflicted.

She slapped his hand away, forcing distance between herself and what remained of his oil. The odor still reeked and wafted around her, trying to draw her back into biting him again. She blew it away by drawing her wings around herself and forcing her head down.

"Please..." Khan stuttered. "Stop. You're scaring me...-"

"And maybe I SHOULD!" Nori blurted, hoping her face for a soon regretted moment as she bared her fangs at Khan again.

Her core sank with his face as he relented, never having looked more pitiful.

The solver drone ignored the last of his pleas, and as she stumbled backwards to hide the monster in worker drone metal from her own love, she finally let the stupidly, STUPIDLY coded tears run down her face. Her choking resumed, hoping to undo what'd she done.

Biting him was fun, wasn't it 002? Heehehee... you should do it again sometime.

The mere thought brought both drool and sobs to her face as she compressed herself in a corner of the bathroom.

--------

Saying Khan was worried sick would be a disgusting understatement.

Though maybe not as disgusting as his injuries.

According to the medic drone, who immediately deicded by the impatient glare on Khan's face that he shouldn't ask too many questions, he had sustained life-threatening but repairable damage. His right cheek had deep incisions that nearly punctured the skin. Once the last of the oil had been cleared away, the wounds presented themselves as cluttered together and only needed a few bandages.

There was the more pressing matter of his shoulder, which was still letting out the occasional spurt of oil. Khan at this point felt too lightheaded to pay much attention to what the medic was saying. All he caught was the fact that whatever (or whoever) hurt him was lucky to have not torn into more wires.

One transfusion and patching later, and Khan's oil-deprived CPU began to wake up from its brief slumber. The images had burned into his optics... his wife, more crazed and unhinged then usual (which kinda explained why she was acting funny while he played Astro Bot), had sucked him almost dry of oil.

Well maybe not almost, but 30% oil is less than half, so close enough.

He'd never been too concerned about her thirst for oil... for one thing, she was pretty good about keeping it in check, so he never knew what she was like when she was hungry.

...well now that he thought about it, being bitten and allowed to live was kinda... hot.

He gave a blunt thanks to the medic, then hurried home once more, breaking into a jog moments after he was sure no one in the halls was watching him. Though his momentum diminished completely once he reached home.

Khan poked his head in slowly, praying Nori hadn't come out of her hiding spot and was in prime position to be spooked. Luckily, the only sign of her around was a faint, muffled singing from the bedroom.

"...nd I couldn't stand.. the person inside me, I turned all them mirrors around..."

The singing hushed immediately when a nahk nahk nahk interrupted the melody.

"...hey," Khan muttered softly. "Can I come in?"

There was an uncomfortably long silence, followed by a shaky whimper as the door clicked.

The WDF leader held back a wince as he entered. Nori, a utter mess in drone form, was crumpled up on the bed (the sheets were far beyond repair). Her fleshy, bat-like wings shielded her from the outside world, and her tail lashed at threats daring to come close, though it recoiled in fear as Khan walked by it. It snapped in warning, he ignored it.

"Nori?" He whispered. "Can I see my wife?"

"I-I'm not your wife," Nori spat, her tone spiked with agitation. "...I'm your freakshow."

"What makes you say that?"

"How bad is your memory? You act like I didn't just s-sink my teeth into y-your... y-"

"It's fine... I got all patched up. It's like nothing happened. I'm just a bit tired now."Nori moved one of her wings out of the way and pulled her headphones off, looking at Khan in angered disbelief.

"W-why..." she stammered, her voice cracking. "Why are you so damn calm about this...? I-I literally ripped apart your shoulder a-and your cheek and clawed your back... and I enjoyed it! And I WANT to bite you agai-"

"And I'd let you," Khan interjected calmly.

Blush crept up on Nori’s face like it had been stalking her, though disappeared the moment Khan noticed it. The latter sat on the small sliver of bed that his wife hadn't claimed with her wings.

He slipped his hand on the underside of her wing, thumbing the scratched, flesh-coated bone and letting his finger run down what he could reach. To his surprise, Nori sat up a little, letting him scoot in closer.

So he did, letting her wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head on his chest. It was heart-wrenching, seeing his cocky, weird wife cling like a child to the hope that, despite everything... it was her. And not a berserk monster masquerading as her.

"You should be scared of me," Nori sniffled.

"I'm not... you know that," Khan mumbled as he combed her hair with his fingers and ran them down her fleshed-out back.

"Tell me why."

"...Love, I'm OK with being hurt badly. I don't mind it... it's basically a necessity in the WDF. So when my beautiful, strangely hot wife feels a little bitey, I'd be a fool to stop her."

Khan held Nori’s face up to his own, brushing hair out her face with tender gentleness. Her lips parted, probably from awe, and he tried hard not to react as he saw her fangs.

Nori didn't seem to realize her mouth was open, allowing her husband to stare in awe at her teeth. They'd been licked clean several times over to wipe any linger of his oil, but it had the adverse effect of looking polished and new... able to prick a finger before the drone even feels the tip of the tooth.

"Robo-god..." Khan muttered breathlessly, grinning a little at the sight of his wife panicking inside. "You're gorgeous, Nori. I could never be scared of you. Not your fangs... not your wings or tail... not your robot-vampire tendencies..."

He hoisted her up a little by the armpits, bringing her audio processor and his mouth together. Her claws gripped his shoulders, just enough to brace herself.

"I love every part of you, amethyst." He whispered.

"...g-good robo-lord," Nori replied with a choked laugh, hiding tears of pure joy. "You're so sappy it makes you look stupid."

"Well I just think my wife deserves more love than she thinks. And then some."

Khan let himself be hugged a little tighter, leaning back as Nori nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. Her body felt less tense than it had been in days, flinching only at the occasional massage of her back.

He then felt a little scratching at base of his neck. It made him raise his eyebrows for a moment, before he grinned almost as widely as his wife.

"Hey Nori...?"

"Mh...?"

"...What'd I taste like?"

For the next 15 minutes, Khan was refused an answer as Nori had curling up into a heated ball of embarrassment, inflicted by his charm sweet as his oil.

The end! <33333 Some extra things for extra context...

- Several lines of dialogue, as well as the title, come from the song "Control" by Halsey. This was also what Nori was listening to and singing.

- I have a headcanon that drones nickname their partners after beautiful things (like gemstones or flowers) associated with their optic colors. Khan calls Nori "Amethyst", and Nori would call him "Diamond" if she felt sappy.

- A few parts of the story were run by electronix-arts, then toned down because they didn't fit Khan.

- The knocking onomatopoeia is Khan's name backward. His name is LITERALLY a door pun. Creds to @mileymint for saying this.

I've considered doing a version with Yeva and her husband... it wouldn't be like this one, since I imagine he knows she's like a robo-vampire, but I'm open to your thoughts :]

[hotvintagepoll]

Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS poll blog!

The Scrungly Little Guys (gender neutral) Contest is ongoing, and there is also a Hot & Vintage Movie Couples Mini Tournament happening over the holidays. The scrungle contest enshrines the weird, the off-putting, the comic, the character actor, and the strange cinema legend. If you need a reminder of what scrungle means, this picture of an opossum is the golden standard. The hot people contest is about who is hot.

All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, the Dracula Daily polls, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. I am working on a more complete tagging system so people just here for the polls can navigate the blog more easily, but that's still in the works.

FAQs:

“Define scrungly?” For the purposes of this tournament, a contestant must noticeably present in some way as at least one of these: odd, bizarre, off-putting, disheveled, creeping, feral, small, filthy, silly, funny, kooky, comical, exhausted, or just plain strange. This contest presents a wide array of scrungly appeal, so not every contestant will hit every single one of these (but should, ideally, be a few of them). Scrungles were chosen based on how convincing their submitted propaganda was. This contest is all about oddball character actors, creeping henchmen, comic relief sidekicks—the side characters who never get the credit they deserve in proper rundowns of famous old movie actors.

"How do I decide who to vote for with the scrungles?" Vote on whoever seems scrungliest to you. Do not vote for someone based on hotness alone. The video propaganda, included under the cut, is highly encouraged for showcasing scrungles. This contest is very silly and does not always follow the same rules as the hotness tournaments.

"How long does the hot couple tournament go on for?" Each poll in the mini tournament lasts three days.

"Hey! Some of these guys sucked and they shouldn't be here!" Yes, some of these guys sucked. I agree with you. For reasons I've gone into before, I don't exclude anyone from the contest for moral reasons, even if I personally think they were garbage. I do this because I cannot responsibly research and vet every competitor's background and legacy, and I'm not comfortable being the moral barometer for everyone, even in cases where I think it's really obvious. You are welcome to vote against people for moral reasons, but as mod I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about anyone.

If I see repetitive, trolling, or bigoted remarks in the comments, I will block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a competitor’s problematic aspects in the replies, that’s fine, but if I see bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked. I will also block if you start harassing other people voting on the polls. If you really hate that someone is winning, please post positive propaganda for their opponent instead.

I welcome additional propaganda for the scrungly little guys in reblogs or asks. I boost the best propaganda I see and try to boost equally for everyone. I don't accept propaganda that’s post-1970 or from non-film appearances. When sending your propaganda, please don't send me too many pics or videos at once—I max out at about four per ask.

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t alter submissions beyond fixing obvious spelling mistakes. I do choose the poll pics, purposely trying to pick the silliest ones possible for this contest; if you think I could do even sillier, send me one I can use instead. If you think a contestant needs more propaganda, send me an ask with some and let me know if you'd like it added to the poll post if they make it to the next round.

“Who won the major hottie tournaments?” Eartha Kitt and Toshiro Mifune are the reigning hotness champions. They are both living it up by the pool in the sunshine, as far from the shadow realm as possible.

“What's the shadow realm?” All hotties who fail to continue in a tournament are sent to the shadow realm, far below the crust of the earth where gloom ever lingers and the veil is thick.

“Was [this famous person] submitted to any of the tournaments?” Try a tag search for them (ie, #james cagney in my search bar if you're looking for him). If you still haven’t found your person, they either did not fit the criteria of working in movies from 1910-1970, weren't convincingly scrungly in their submission, or were not submitted at all.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the polls.

Tournament schedule post-hiatus:

Now finished: Hot Men Tournament, Hot Women Tournament, Dracula Daily casting polls

Starting September 26th: Scrungly Little Guys contest (gender neutral)

Ongoing over the December holidays: Hot & Vintage Movie Couples Mini Tournament

TBD: Ultimate Hottie Tournament (top brackets of the hot men & hot women competing together)

TBD: Horror Hotties (Frankensteins, Draculas, Brides, etc.)

TBD: Dandy Detectives (Marples, Sherlocks, Nancy Drews, etc.)

fun mini polls that pit sets of characters from the same movie together, like the Philadelphia Story or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers ones (these can be found in the #minis tag)

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: You and JJ talk about what happened

We didn't know it at the time, but today would change everything. Hurricane Agatha swept over the island, leaving destruction in her path, although if you look at Figure 8, it seems like just a small storm hit. The Cut looks rough to say the absolute least. I was helping my parents clean out the backyard, knowing they were already hiring people to fix the electricity that went out. All I really wanted to do was hang out with the Pogues, but I knew that wouldn't happen until later.

Sarah had come over to the house and told me about the kegger that was happening later in the night. As soon as I was done helping in the backyard, I headed to Heyward's to help. "Those dumbass friends took Pope with them," Heyward told me as he was cleaning up around the dock. "I'm gonna ground his ass for life," I walk over and start helping him clean up. If Pope had left, Heyward was trying to clean everything by himself. "I'll make sure to tell him that next time I see him," I tell him which causes him to chuckle.

"Do you think your parents will trade you for Pope?" he jokes. I let out a laugh and shake my head at him, he already knows the answer. Can't have anything wrong with our picture-perfect family, and Pope was a Pogue at the end of the day. "When I turn 18, I'm coming and living with you." Heyward pats my shoulder before pulling me into a side hug. He presses a small kiss on the top of my head before walking back to the piles of debris he was working on.

We spent the rest of the day cleaning, only taking a break to eat some food he made the day before. I got a text from Sarah reminding me about the party. "Hey, there's a small bonfire happening later and I was planning on going," I set the broom down and look over at Heyward, "I can come back tomorrow and help though!"

Heyward looks at me and shakes his head, "Don't worry about it sweetie, you helped so much already." He walks over to me and takes the rag off my shoulder. "Can't have you going anywhere with that," he chuckles at me before shooing me out of the shop. I walk back to Figure 8 and quickly get changed out of my dirty clothes. I quickly throw on a mini dress. Sarah was wearing a dress and she requested I did too. I threw on my high tops and headed down to the beach.

It didn't take long to find Sarah, she was with Topper. I hung out with them for a bit before I looked and saw JJ, John B, and Kie handing out drinks to Tourons. I made my way over to them and nudged Kie's shoulder, "Having fun?" I ask her before looking over at the two boys, "See anybody worth talking to?" I heard John B scoff before going back to filling up red solo cups. "I'll take that as a no."

I stay with them for a while before walking around. It was getting dark now and I was swaying to the music. "Hey, loser!" I heard the distinct voice of JJ say, I looked around and saw he was definitely talking to me. I roll my eyes at him before flipping him off. "You want this?" He holds out a red solo cup to me and I shake my head no.

"Why don't you just drink it?" I ask as if it was the most obvious answer. He walks over to me and rests his arm around my shoulders, "Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to come talk to you?" I feel the warmth rise to my face and smile at him. "You know you don't have to have an excuse to talk to me."

"I know, but all your Kooky friends are here," he whispers into my ear. I turn to face him and put my arms around his neck, forcing him to dance with me. "I don't care if they know you're my friend J." I hear his breathing hitch for just a second when I put my arms around him. He places one hand on my waist, still holding the cup in his other hand.

"Listen, as much as I hate the Kooks, I don't want to make you a social pariah because you're hanging out with a Pogue" he looks deep into my eyes. He was trying to read me, but he knew what I thought about it.

"JJ," I stand on my tiptoes to get closer to his face and I brush my lips against his ear, "I don't care what they think." I take his face in my hands and press a small kiss on his lips. I may have been a little drunk, but sober me wanted to do this for years. I pulled away and looked into his eyes before he leaned down and kissed me back. He placed his empty hand on the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. It felt like it was just the two of us on that beach for a moment.

We were quickly pulled back to reality when someone bumped into us. I feel an arm holding me so I don't fall and I suddenly realize that someone is looking at us: Topper. JJ looks over and sees Topper standing with Sarah, getting ready to leave. JJ sees the interaction Topper and I are having, and JJ being JJ, he gets in the middle of it. He walks over, cup in hand, and tries to offer it to Sarah. Next thing I know, the cup goes flying and a fight breaks out between Topper and John B.

JJ ends up pulling a gun on Topper, leaving me wondering where the hell he got that from. John B fell face down into the water, Kie and I rushing over to him as JJ let off some shots. We got John B back to the Chateau and I headed home, all of us deciding not to talk about what happened.

The next morning, I wake up and head to the Chateau. Everybody is there talking about Sheriff Peterkin. I stand next to Pope and just listen to what's being said, knowing I'll have to ask about it later. Right now, I need to talk with JJ. I walk over to the dock, thinking about what to say to him. It doesn't take long before I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and see JJ looking at me. My heart beats just a little faster, remembering our kiss from last night. He walks over to me and sits along the ledge.

"Do you think we would ever work? Like if you weren't Kook royalty and I wasn't, well me?" JJ scratches his forehead before looking over at me, anticipating an answer. I look at him and I can't help but study his face. "Just after last night, I can't pretend that what happened, didn't happen."

JJ and I have always had a flirty friendship. We always stole hushed glances when the other wasn't looking. We knew everything there was to know about the other person. We knew what each other was thinking without saying it. We would always do the same thing without realizing it. We were just two people hopelessly in love, but staying quiet about it for the sake of our friendship; until now. "JJ, I can't pretend either." I walk over to him and he jumps down off the ledge, now standing directly in front of me. He places the palm of his hand against my face and I lean into it.

"So, what does this mean?" JJ asks looking down at me with a smile on his face. I shrug my shoulders at him, "I don't know. All I know is I can't keep pretending I don't have these feelings for you." I take his hand in mine and intertwine our fingers.

"Good, 'cause I've wanted to do this for a long damn time," JJ tells me before placing his hands on my face and pulling me into him. He places a kiss on my lips and entangles his hands in my hair. I pull him closer to me and deepen the kiss. We finally break apart and I can see his heavy breathing matching mine. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest. He plays with my hair before we hear someone behind us clear their throat. I turn around and see John B staring at us with wide eyes.

"Uhh-" John B turns away and starts to walk away before glancing back at us, "About time." I look at him and he gives us a small smile before walking back to the house. I glance up at JJ and chuckle.

So it turns out, everybody was betting when we would get together: Pope won.

[ewingstan]

I do wonder how much the perception of cape culture in the fandom would have changed if Wildbow hadn’t made the story so Brockton Bay centric.

The story of Worm (and Ward to an extent) has alluded to the fact that Brockton Bay is notably an exception when it comes to cape violence and brutality, with Taylor shocked that a Ward she met had 3 fights in 6 months. And how several Wards and Rime had no idea what she was talking about in regard to “counting coup”.

We see this with Victoria too, when she’s shocked about the Majors not seeing any action in 6 years and Tristan being overwhelmed with the amount of violence in the Fallen Raid despite being a hero for a few years himself. Foil also mentions how most of her career was really calm until March would occasionally poke her nose in things.

Mal posted some Ward updates! While I understand her pov, I do disagree with her:ilebow has also stressed, pre-Ward, that Brockton Bay was not indicative of the wider cape scene as a whole but rather a domino of things going wrong due to outside factors.

If Wildbow had extended interludes to show the dynamics of other, average, cape cities or had Taylor be in a city where things were so much calmer that she found it disturbing… well, it’s hard to say how things would change, but I think it would have made it far more clear that Taylor and Victoria’s life experience should not be applied across the board.

Or maybe nothing would have changed. Just spitballing an idea based on your let’s read so far.

Brockton Bay may be exceptional to an extent. But maybe just in the sense that it had so much happen to it before it was abandoned. Madison and Ellisburg only needed one bad day. Several countries in Worm were just straight-up destroyed.

The Bay may have been a notably large hub of nazi capes. But they were part of an internationally-connected network of capes with similar agendas. Hell, the Fallen mostly operated outside of Brockton Bay. Most of the exceptionally violent groups like the Fallen, the Slaughterhouse Nine, Heartbreaker, the Teeth, etc. were roaming problems. Yes, Brockton was unique in that it was hit by all of them, but the world was full of those types of groups. There were similar groups of enough importance on a world stage to get an invite to the cauldron meetings that we only get the barest details of.

But the most important thing is that the low-level fights Victoria's specifically nostalgic for was itself always worse than she's remembering. It wasn't a bunch of kooky characters clashing with straightmen heroes. It was a bunch of very desperate people trying to survive in a system that found them either expendable or better off dead. Even without all the specific things that hit Brockton Bay, Rachel probably would've ended up in the birdcage. Victoria would've kept relying on Amy to fix up the crooks she broke, assuming she never ended up accidentally killing someone. Both of them would continue living under the crushing responsibility and isolation that came with their cape personas. Vista would've ended up as maladjusted as a marketable celebrity child soldier would always end up being. People like Dinah and Lisa would keep being hunted for their skills by more powerful forces. The Taylors of the world would keep getting bullied, the Mr. Gladlys would keep looking away. The rot would be same.

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

kitty kookie

pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader word count: 1719 warnings: smut, explicit language, cat hybrid kook, scent marking, nipple play AO3 A/N: request - Can you do a Jungkook x reader where he is a cat hybrid and he is a obsession for reader's breast so he wants to suck on her nipples anytime he can? Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

You once heard that cats were the most independent pet.

Your cat hybrid Jungkook tended to fall on this specter the majority of the time, he could take care of himself as any other cat or person could - he could cook; clean after himself; he'd play video games or watch television or whatever else he did online; and other shenanigans.

Honestly, sometimes if it weren't for the fluffy black ears and tail you had doubts about him being a hybrid.

Jungkook was a lot like this, especially when you first adopted him. He tended to keep to himself, barely talking to you, always in his bedroom or sitting on the couch, the only time you actually saw more of him was when you shared meals together.

At first, you thought it was because he still needed to get used to everything, but as the days went on and he kept the same attitude you grew to fear that maybe, he was uncomfortable in your house and that maybe you would have to return him to the shelter.

You told him as much one night - you didn't want to return him, you wanted him to feel comfortable and safe, that the house was his as much as it was yours and that if he couldn't then you had failed as an owner and didn't see any other option.

At your words Jungkook suddenly stood up and yelled a passionate 'No!', startling you and making you slightly jump in your seat. Seeing your wide eyes, Jungkook cleared his throat and retook his seat before sighing and explaining.

His previous owners had put him in shelters because sometimes he was a lot needier and attention-seeking - they really liked the independent side of him but when it came to the side that still needed care and love they hadn't signed up for that. He didn't want that to happen again so when you adopted him he decided to show a less needy side of himself.

Through all of his explanation you didn't utter a single noise, just patiently listening to his every word, your hand laying on his as your thumb softly grazed his knuckles. Once he was done you assured him that it wouldn't be the case this time and that he could ask for as much attention as he wanted.

Jungkook was still a little doubtful of you but that seemed to melt away once you started petting his head and ears, his tail flicking as purrs kept leaving him.

Afterward, his demeanor changed completely. He still his usual things but he also was around more and would often ask of pets and just wanting to be around you.

Jungkook was especially fond of using his cat form as a way to get attention. You would be fixing up dinner and suddenly hear meowing and feel him bunting against your legs, or you would be doing nothing in particular and the bombay cat would throw himself on the ground and begin to roll around. When you would tease him he would either lick your hands or climb in your lap.

But his favorite would have to be kneading. Jungkook especially loved doing that to your breasts. Every night since your conversation he would enter your bedroom, once he thought you were asleep, and would just knead your shirt, more specifically where your boobs were, doing it carefully so that he wouldn't wake you or hurt you with his claws before snuggling close to them as his purrs lulled you both to sleep.

You didn't know how to feel about it - on one hand, you thought it was cute, the small black cat using your boobs as pillows and, after research, you knew that cats would knead their owners as a way of expressing adoration. On the other hand, Jungkook was also a grown buff man with a fixation on your breasts, something that made you feel hot and bothered.

It wasn't like you would deny that Jungkook was attractive, multiple were the occasions where you had to stop yourself from gawking when he would walk around the apartment in something that puts a special emphasis on his arms or thick legs. And that's without counting the random moments where he would be shirtless and in sweats - those were images that haunted your every moment.

Laying on your couch, you were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt a sudden weight on your body, the black cat was sitting on your stomach simply staring at you as its tail moved relaxed from one side to the other.

"Jungkook," you said with a sigh. "We need to talk."

In a flash he was off of you and switched back to his human form and taking a seat next to you, tail swinging wildly and ears high on alert.

You reached out to pet one of his ears and hopefully calm him down. "It's nothing bad, just a simple conversation." that didn't seem to do anything but the two of you really needed to have this talk.

With a sigh, you began. "Jungkook, I don't have a problem with giving you all the attention that you need and I do think it's cute when you do those things…" you started playing with your fingers, not exactly sure how to go about with this. "B-but sometimes, certain things you do make me uncomfortable, for the lack of a better word."

"Oh! I, hum, I'm sorry you feel that way," his black ears dropped and his tail simply laid still beside him.

"I don't mean this as a bad thing," you reached for his hand and started to rub circles with your thumb. "It's just a bit weird when you knead me."

Though you had whispered those words, Jungkook's ears had picked them up and thus, perked up at them and his tail started swinging again with newfound curiosity. "Why?"

"W-Well, b-because…" you cleared your throat, beginning to feel flustered at the direction the conversation was going. "Because, well, you kept doing it on my chest." you kept your eyes away from him as the words felt your lips.

"Is that a problem?" you didn't need to look at him to know that he had a smirk on his lips. "It means I like you."

Jungkook scooted closer to you and started to nuzzle against your neck as his thumb rubbed circles in your thigh. "I-I know, b-but-"

"Don't you like me showing how much I like you?" his tail replaced his hand and wrapped itself around one of your legs as his hands started to slowly make his way higher up your body.

You felt him lick a stripe of your neck and you immediately bit your bottom lip to stop any noises from coming out.

"Now what's this?" he bit your neck, making you let out a gasp, before licking and sucking on the spot. "I show you how much you mean to me and you can't even let out a noise? I'm hurt."

Successfully laying you under him on the couch, Jungkook continued to lick, bite and scent your neck and collarbone, his hands under your shirt massaging and squeezing your breasts and tail rubbing the wet patch between your legs that started showing in your shorts.

You were biting your hard enough to draw blood, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but that was proving to be incredibly difficult with everything he kept doing to you.

"You wanna know why I love to knead your tits so much?" he pulled your shirt off and pinned your hands before you had a chance to cover yourself. He started trailing kisses from your neck to the valley of your breasts, leaving behind licks and marks in its wake. "Because I can't stop thinking how they would feel in my hands, how they would look with my mark on them and my cock between them, how much I want them in my mouth."

Jungkook started to slowly rub circles in your nipples and releasing his warm breath on them. Long gone was your need to keep quiet, moans and whines kept leaving your lips at his ministrations.

"That's my good girl." taking both of your wrists and holding them with one hand, his other hand pinching one of your nipples while flicking the tip of his tongue on the other.

Taking your breast into his mouth, he kept licking and sucking on your nipple while pinching, twisting, and pulling the other between his fingers. He didn't seem to get enough of your boobs.

"Jungkook!" you arched your back when you felt him nibble at your nipple, his eyes never leaving your face, taking great pleasure in knowing he was the one that was making fall apart.

With one last bite on your right breast, he then switches, licking and sucking on your left one while twisting and pulling your right one. With his tail still rubbing between your legs it wasn't long before you found yourself at the brink of orgasm.

"J-Jungkook, I'm g-gonna…" you couldn't finish as a loud moan left you when you felt him bite at your left breast.

"Do it baby." both of his hands on your tits and his mouth kissing your neck, all it took was a harder twist on both your nipples and a bite on your neck to push you over the edge, cumming all over your panties and clenching around nothing, a loud moan of his name that you were almost sure could be heard outside of your apartment leaving you.

As you worked on catching your breath you felt your black cat petting your hair, his tail now swinging behind him.

"You okay?" Jungkook took his rightful place and snuggled closer between your breasts while rubbing circles on your waist.

You let out a chuckle, your mind trying to associate that the shy and scared hybrid you adopted and the one that had just made you cum without being inside of you were the same. "Y-Yeah, just catching my breath."

"Now that we did this, I hope you know that it's going to happen again and again." gripping your chin and forcing you to stare at him, his voice an octave lower. "You're mine dear owner, just as much as I am yours."

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Neighbor Yoongi x Teacher F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Protected/Unprotected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town Romance, They own a farm, Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance, 

A/N: A small teaser for my next story that won't come out until WHISPERED VOWS is complete.

“Kookie, let her talk,” Hobi scolded him.

“Y/N!” You look up and see Jungkook waving at you excitedly from under a large Tannie Farms sign. “You're here!” Jungkook comes around to the front of several white tables that stand under a large tent from where the sign dangles and hugs you tightly. Your eyes widened in surprise at the act of affection. You bring your hands up and tentatively pat his pat in return. “Are you back for good? Joon said, "Joon said that you're going to work at his school. Are you going to help us every weekend?”

“Sorry, I just really missed you,” he whispered to you. Guilt. You feel so fucking guilty.

Hobi and Jungkook showed you how to stack all the produce in wooden crates that they were going to sell and how to keep them looking presentable. The more uniformed they were, the more appealing they supposedly were. They chatted away telling you all of their ideas to expand their products at their spot here at the farmers market and in the local stores as you stacked and fixed the wooden crates like they showed you. They told you how they wanted to start selling baked goods using the fruits and eventual nuts that they grew, but none of them could bake that well. Jin was the closest to making something edible, but it just wasn't good enough. 

“I missed you too, Kook. Don't worry, there is plenty of time to catch up. Okay, show me what you want me to do,” you tell him, a fake smile plastered to your face. You link your arms together as you make your way to their spot. 

“You could help with that!” Kook said excitedly. “Your  breads were always so good when you made them in school. OH! Your birthday cakes were amazing. We always looked forward to everyone's birthday because of your cakes.”

“I never got one,” a deep voice soon joined the conversation. Yoongi walked by you carrying a crate of tomatoes.  

His dark hair that you always remembered him having was now a darker blonde. He looked the same, though. He looked good. He was still handsome with an arrogant aura around him that he always had. You were actually surprised that he was carrying something. You figured business and marketing manager meant a cushy office, not manual labor. Someone who would never give up his weekend to help work the crowd on a hot summer's day. You thought it was more suit and tie than flannel and ripped jeans. 

“We were never friends,” you shot back at him. 

Yoongi turned and pinned you down with a glare. You swear you can feel your cheeks heat up, and you don't know if it's from anger or attraction. Your small, very, very small, almost microscopic crush from high school might still linger….maybe. 

“Okay,” Hobi says, clapping his hands, drawing your attention back to him. “Our price list is here on the sheet for your reference. Just entice people to come with that pretty face, and Kook will ring them up.” Yoongi scoffs. You quickly pick up an ear of corn to chuck it at him, but Hobi takes it away from you just as fast. “Listen, I know you two have had your differences in the past, but we are actually adults now. Just be cordial, at least.” 

"Fine,” you say, feeling ashamed that you let Yoongi get to you. 

“Okay,” Yoongi agrees and shrugs nonchalantly. “I have no issues on my end.” 

“Great,” Hobi says happily with a clap of his hands. “Let's get this party started.”

[margotw10bis]

Crashing On Crush.JJK 6 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader / Hoseok x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 5.1k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: angst; broken heart; mention of death; protected sex; oral sex (f. receiving)

previous ← 6 → next

Graduation Day. Today, you finally graduate from college. It's officially the end of your long academic journey and the beginning of the 'real adult life'. You have dreamt about this day for years: being finally able to introduce yourself as a Master's Degreed Cultural Business professional. You've planned this day a hundred of times with Suzi. You should be happy, party with your friends, have fun. But your mood is miles away from that. The poor seven days after Jungkook's broken your heart weren't enough for you to heal.

Jongseob is by your side though, the exact same way you were for his high school graduation. He looks so happy for you that you don't want him to worry about you. So you put a fake smile on your face and act like everything's fine. His innocent eyes are shining with pride and affection and that puts some ointment on your ripped heart some what.

"How is it to be free from school?" He asks you with his imperfect yet so cute smile

"I guess you'll have to finish college to know" You answer while he winces.

Jongseob hasn't decide yet if he wants to go to college next year. You wish he would so he can have more choices in the future but you don't want him to be unhappy and force him to do something he doesn't like.

"You're no fun, Noona"

You stick out your tongue at him to tease. He hugs you tight and you feel good for the first time in days in his arms. You realize that the little boy you met years ago is becoming a strong man. His embrace is getting more and more powerful, just like he is turning into an adult. You're proud but also a little bit worried that maybe he won't need you anymore. But it's far from the truth: you will always have a special place in Jongseob's heart because you had been and will always be his family, even when he was alone.

"I love so much, Jongseob" You whisper emotionally, so thankful to him to lighten your mood while he has no clue of it

"I love you too, Noona"

————

"Please, Kookie!"

"No, it's not a good idea" Jungkook sighs

She has been yapping in his ears for fifteen minutes now and Jungkook's starting to have a headache.

"Come on! We haven't hung out for years! It's gonna be fun!" She is pouting, trying to coax him while he sighs for the thousandth time.

Jungkook sits on his couch, trying to not remember how it felt like when he has hold you in his arms at the very same spot a few days ago. It seems like years ago to him now. A harsh pinch in the heart makes him wince at the thought. He misses you so much.

The past week, he has tried everything to forget you: he has worked overtime to keep his mind busy, spent hours in malls with her talking about new fashion trends - as if he gives a fuck about it - and he has been working out a lot. Right now, he doesn't want to do anything. He just wants to stay home, alone, and try to fix his damaged heart. He has given up everything, given up you, for her and she was asking for more. How much could he handle until the breaking point?

"I swear, we gonna have fun, Kookie. We don't even have to drink so you could take your lovely fancy car"

Jungkook stares at her with narrow eyes, trying to figure out if it's a good idea. It's definitely not. Yet, he says:

"Okay, but no drinking" He is not sure he'll have the patience to deal with a drunk person tonight while he surely wants to get wasted to forget you a few seconds.

"Yes! Thanks, Kookie!" She brightly yells, throwing herself at Jungkook's neck and giving him a big kiss on the cheek.

————

"Can you tell me once again why we are here?"

You are grumpy. Even when Suzi has tried by all means to cheer you up, it didn't work. Tired from trying, your best friend ended up dragging you - against your consent - in a club.

"Because we have talked about it a thousand times and we agreed on celebrating our graduation months ago. Come on, it will be fun, I promise" Suzi softly says to you, kissing your cheek

You can't blame her, it's true. You, indeed, were supposed to party after the graduation ceremony and go to the club since Suzi loves it. You promised her. But when you did, you didn't know that a tattooed man with piercing would break your heart. However, you enter the club and the loud music is already hurting your ears. This is going to be a long night.

Everyone is so happy. Suzi, your friends from college and Taehyung are all dressed up and in the mood of partying. Not you. You didn't even put any efforts on your outfit: just a simple pair of jeans with a - oh, fancy! - lilac bardot top. You try, you really try to be in the mood, smile and joke with everyone but you can't. Every time your eyes close, you see him. His long, black and smooth hair. His beautiful dark doe eyes. His perfect lips. Those same lips that kissed you and then opened to say 'I love you' to another girl.

You give up hope on having a good night and walk straight to the bar. Alcohol will be your friend tonight. You directly order two shots of vodka, wishing that after that you won't have this handsome man in your mind.

Next to you, a woman appears.

"A diet Coke, please!"

You tense immediately. This voice. No. No, no, no. This can't be. Fate can't be this cruel to you. You don't hear well because of the shitty and loud music. But you can't help turning your head at her. It's her. The girl you saw in Jungkook's arms. She is gorgeous. Long dark, almost black, straight hair. Beautiful brown almond eyes. And a perfect smile with full lips. The smile you should have on your face tonight.

You just stare at her, speechless.

"Celebration night?" She asks you cheerfully while your heart squeezes in pain

"Yeah" You answer with a white voice

You just pray she is alone and he is not here. But who are you kidding? The odds have never been on your side. You are just unlucky. So, of course, he walks right at her, not even noticing you. And that fucking hurts.

"You said no alcohol" He talks in her ear

Seeing him this close to her, her back leaning on his buff chest is painful. This is everything you wanted and Jungkook has it, with another woman. Your heart burns and its beats echo in your ears. You feel your throat drying and your eyes watering.

"Relax, Kookie, it's just a Coke"

Then, Jungkook's eyes meet yours. The surprise is more than visible on his perfect face - the face you wish you didn't miss this much. You still remember how his lips felt on yours, how his long almost touching shoulders hair felt under your fingertips. It felt so good so why does it hurt so bad now? Why does he have to look so good in his black t-shirt and same color jeans when you look like trash? Didn't he feel any pain last week while you were crying every night in your bed? It looks like it...

"Y/N?" His deep voice becomes suddenly raspy and is almost a whisper

"Oh, you know each other?" The girl says and then smiles at you, even that hurts you "I'm Mina, Jungkook's girlfriend. Nice to meet you"

You feel like throwing up. Jungkook has a girlfriend and he cheated on her with you. And now you are facing her! How are you supposed to face her? You feel so guilty. You don't even look her in the eyes. It takes everything from you to give her a weak 'Nice to meet you too'.

You notice your two shots that the bartender has just put on the desk and drink them one shot. The vodka burns your throat and your stomach, which makes you wince, but it's nothing compared to your fucking torn apart heart.

You walk away, putting as much distance as you can with Jungkook and his girlfriend. Your vision is blurred by burning tears and you are struggling to breath. You bump into so many people on the crowd dance floor on your way to the exit. At some point, you run into Suzi. Her smile immediately fades away when she sees the panicked and hurt expression on your features.

"What's going on?"

"I-I can't stay here. I'm sorry. Jungkook, he-I'm sorry" You can't speak properly with your erratic breathe and messed up brain

You push Suzi's hands off of your body and run to the door, begging for air.

————

It was a bad idea. Jungkook knew it. He should have said no to Mina. The way you looked at him and then, the sorrow that twisted your pretty face... He couldn't take it. He swears he heard his heart break again when you left.

"Why would you do that?" He speaks harshly to Mina

"Do what?"

"Say you're my girlfriend"

"Because I always do that. I say I'm your girlfriend, you say you're my boyfriend. We always do that" Mina frowns

"We did. Don't do it anymore"

Jungkook clenches his jaw so tight that his teeth hurt. But he knows that it's not over when a furious Suzi walks straight to him. He has never seen his best friend's girlfriend like that. If eyes could kill, he would be dead for sure.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Suzi shouts, pushing harshly Jungkook's chest with her two palms.

He winces more from the pain caused by her words than her gesture.

"Wooh, calm down. Who the hell are you?" Mina intervenes and it's a fucking bad idea

Suzi glances at the girl. Your best friend gets even angrier when she understands everything: the real reason why you were so heartbroken is this girl. Jungkook lied to you! He made a fool out of you! He played with your heart so easily and now he is having a good time with a girl? Suzi can't bare with it.

Suzi has known you for four years and you are one of the most important people in her life. You shared your room at the beginning of college, you were there when her stupid ex-boyfriend cheated on her the first year, you helped her moving with Taehyung. You love her and she loves you. During all the years you have been friends, Suzi has never seen you being mean to someone. You are always kind, you always try to please everyone even when that means you being uncomfortable. You are the best person she knows and fuck! you don't deserve any of this twisted situation. You deserve the kindest man and he would be the luckiest person on Earth to be loved by you.

"You piece of shit" Suzi hisses with disgust "How could you do that to her? Y/N is such a nice girl. Do you have any idea how much she's cried the past few days?"

Jungkook's heart tighten, feeling your pain just like his. He swears he didn't want to hurt you but he didn't have a choice. Not when Mina was here and he had to take care of her. He wants to tell Suzi to stop talking because knowing how much you have suffered because of him is too much to handle. However, if your best friend thinks he is an asshole and tells you to stay away from him, then he would know there is no chance for him and he wouldn't be tempted to run after you and beg you for forgiveness.

"Stay away from her! Don't ever talk to her again! You don't deserve anything from her, not even a glance, not even a thought. And I don't want to ever see you again so don't step in my apartment again"

With that, Suzi leaves, her heart pounding with adrenaline, anger and sadness for you.

"Is everyone crazy in Seoul?" Mina jokes

Jungkook doesn't even talk back and walks through the crowd. He needs air. Everything around him is too heavy: the air in the club, the heat from sweaty people, and the huge pain of his heart. It's all crushing him.

The second he pushes the heavy exit door, the air slaps his face. He steps aside the small crowd near the entrance wanting to enter the club or smoking a cigaret. Everything is so fucked up in his life. He needs to think and to convince himself he can't be with you. But that's so hard when he sees you panting and crying in the middle of the street, just a few meters away from him. He doesn't want you to cry for him, he is not worth it. He wants you to be happy and that's the only reason why he's pushed you away. However, when he sees you like this, he wishes he could travel back time.

His body is moving instinctively and he doesn't notice he is hugging you until he feels your body tightly pressed against his.

Your eyes widen. For a moment, just a second, all the pain is gone. Jungkook's warm and strong arms around you make everything bad disappear. It's so easy for him to make you happy - or sad. A small part of you forgives him everything immediately and is willing to not ask any question as long as he keeps you in his arms. But the other part is too hurt and overwhelmed by how right it feels to be in his embrace.

You try to push him away but he is way stronger than you.

"Get off of me!" You exclaim, sounding more hurt than angry

He does distance himself from you but not too much. He still has his big palms on your bare shoulders, making you look at him in his pretty eyes. You swear you can see as much pain as you feel but it can't be true: he has a girlfriend, he doesn't love you and he lied to you. It's just your imagination because it's what you wish so much: him to love you.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry"

His voice is broken, his eyes get watery and you close yours in disbelief.

"I don't want to listen to you. You lied to me! You lied to her!"

Your eyes are red and big round tears are rolling on your cheeks. This is pathetic, crying in front of him. You try once again to get rid of his hands.

"Listen to me, Mina is not-"

"Don't touch her" A strong man's voice cuts Jungkook off while he is pushed by the stranger

You look up at your savior and you gasp. Hoseok, the sunshine in the darkness. How ironic is it to meet your first ever crush when your current one has broken your heart?

You are equally surprised to see him than to see how his features are tensed while he is sweetest guy in the world. You haven't seen him in years. Strangely enough, he was the reason why you wanted to move to South Korea for your studies.

Hoseok, while he is almost seven years older than you, was your neighbor abroad. He was born in Korea but his parents moved in the house next to yours when you were six. Your parents are friends and you can't count how many evenings you've spent together. As a teenager, you began to have your very first crush on your handsome neighbor. He was sweet, nice and always smiling. When you think about him, your heart is full of happy memories. Of course, due to the age gap, you never said anything about your feelings towards him and you know he saw you like a little sister. However, few time after his studies, Hoseok went back to Korea and that's when you decided you would go too and maybe, if it's fate, you would meet Hoseok again.

Your crush on Hoseok was the innocent one. The one you have when you're young and you're willing to love more than to be loved. Now, you have no romantic feelings for him but a huge affection. He has changed your life in so many ways, especially when it's thanks to him you started get interested in the Korean culture.

"Are you okay?" Hoseok asks you with a softer tone

"Hobi?" Is all you manage to say with a small and shaky voice and you are quite surprised how his surname came so naturally on your tongue. More than that, it feels sweet and safe.

On the other hand, Jungkook's knuckles whiten as he clenches his fists. He wonders who the fuck is that guy. Also, he is angry that this guy has stopped him while he was trying to explain himself to you. If he has to, Jungkook won't hesitate to punch him, especially when he sees his hand grabbing yours.

"Y/N, please, let me talk to you" Jungkook tries to soften his voice when he talks to you but it's a hard thing to do when his whole body is so tensed

"Please, Hobi, let's leave"

Jungkook's heart squeezes and it's even more painful that you don't look at him at all.

Hoseok simply nods and leads you to his car.

It's an understatement to say he was surprised to see you. He wasn't even sure it was you: the last time he saw you, you were fifteen - that's to say just a kid for him. Now, you are a woman. A beautiful woman. He knew you were in Korea because his parents'd told him but he just didn't expect at all to meet you like this. However, when he heard this all-in-black guy calls your name, he didn't hesitate and pushed him away from you. Seeing you cry rekindled his protective instinct towards you.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Hoseok asks when you get in his car

"I don't want to talk about it" You answer honestly

Hoseok firmly grips the wheel, a hundred of scenarios in his head wondering how much this asshole hurt you. He swears to god, if he has touched you, he will kill him. Lost in his thoughts, he startles when you put a delicate hand on his taut one. His eyes soften forthwith and he manages to give you a weak smile.

"Thank you for helping me" You say

"You don't have to thank me, Y/N. Do you want me to bring you home?"

"Actually..." You blush hard "Can we go at yours instead? I don't want to be home alone"

Hoseok takes a moment to think, wondering if it's truly appropriate. But when he looks at you, he sees two things: how sad you are and that you are not the kid he knew in the past. You're a grown up woman and you are able to make your own decision. If you need his help, anyway is it, Hoseok will help you. However, he can't say he is not caught short of how beautiful you are. He has to shake his head to not think about you in another way than his sweet young neighbor.

"Sure" He eventually says with a dry throat, especially abashed when you give him a gorgeous smile.

Hoseok's apartment is way bigger than yours but it's homy. It feels just as warm and welcoming as Hobi's smile. You notice some pictures with his parents and family, and with his friends too. You are smiling while you are browsing the paper memories. But you suddenly gasp. One photo, way bigger than the other ones is a wedding. Hoseok's wedding! He is smiling like crazy in his beautiful white suit and he is holding the hand of the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. Her hair is delicately style in a fluffy bun and her wedding dress makes her look like a princess.

"You're married?!" You scream more than you ask, in a high pitch

"I, uhm, yes, kinda"

Hoseok's smile is so sad when he gets close to you to look at his wedding photo. He knows it by heart but he is always amazed by how gorgeous Sojung is.

"Where is she? I hope she doesn't bother me being here"

"She passed away two years ago"

There is so much pain in Hoseok's voice. You feel your heart breaks with his.

"Oh my god, Hobi, I'm so sorry, I didn't know" You squeeze gently his shoulder to confort him and he gives you a thanking smile

"She was sick even before the wedding. But we wanted to get married. You know, it's funny because there was no point of that, we knew she would die few weeks after the ceremony. But we did it anyway: getting married knowing it was useless... It was worth it though. Sojung was so happy, she laughed the whole day"

You can't hold your tears when you listen to him. You feel so bad for him. Hoseok is always so happy, so cheerful. He is a true sunshine. Knowing he's been through so much pain is heartbreaking. You would give everything for him to be with his wife right now.

"I'm so sorry, Hobi"

You hug him tightly while you are both crying. You don't know how long you stay like that but something changes in you. And you are sure that Hoseok feels the same thing. Sharing your pain with someone you've known for years but have no idea of your biggest pain is someway liberating and comforting. You share your pain and you heal each other's sore. You don't need to talk because yours and Hoseok's hearts are directly connected and understand each other's.

He cups your face in his big hands, looking straight in your watery eyes with his own. He is so beautiful: his perfect brows, his brown and soft eyes, his perfect nose and his heart-form lips. You are drowning in his eyes.

"Can you love me just for tonight?" Hoseok asks you in a whisper

"Only if you love me for tonight too" You murmur

It's exactly what you felt when you hugged: you both need to feel loved. Just for a night. Your two hearts are full of love but have no one to love. You both know that, as your lips meet, you are secretly willing to be with somebody else. But it doesn't matter, all you need now is each other.

Hoseok's lips are soft and warm. It's like a big hug around your entire body and you feel safe. The kiss is nothing like sultry but passionately sad. Yet, your heart beats faster as Hoseok presses his lips harder against your mouth. Your hands find their way to his hair while his hands are holding your waist tighter. Soft moans escape your lips glued to Hobi's. The kiss feels good. It exactly feels like what you need.

Without pulling your mouths apart, Hoseok guides you towards his bedroom. You don't have time to look around but it's like a safe place. You pull on his shirt to help him get rid of it. You are surprised to see how defined are his muscles. Hoseok has always been fit but it's the first time you see him shirtless. And it's quite a pleasant view. You can't deny the arousal slowly building up in your stomach, especially when Hobi's mouth starts working on your neck. The wetness of his lips and tongue against the burning, thin and sensitive skin of your throat feels so fucking good. Your head is completely in the clouds of horniness.

Hoseok leaves your skin just the time to take off your top and his eyes meet your perfect breast cloaked in your strapless skin color bra. He gently kisses the bare skin and smoothly undoes your bra. It's on the floor in no time. Your fingers run up and down against his strong and soft back, pulling him closer to you. Hoseok's mouth makes its way down until he kneels in front of you. He looks up at your face to silently ask you permission to slide down your last pieces of clothing, and you are all up for it. His delicate fingers unbuttons your jeans and drag them down your legs.

Your moan fills the air when Hoseok gently kisses you through your panties' fabric. You feel it soaked from your arousal. The last clothing barrier is getting rid off and two big palms are holding on your hips. The grip is firm and fucking good. However, not as good as Hoseok's lips on your clit. The position is so sinful when you're standing up, completely naked, a man's face in front of your wet pussy kissing your sensitive bud. His tongue is warm and powerful while it rolls around your clit at a delightful pace. Your hands grab Hoseok's hair to not fall down under the pleasure he is providing you. He takes your left leg and makes it rest on his large shoulder to have a better access to your dripping cunt.

"Oh fuck!" You moan

His tongue is devilishly expert. It licks the right place over and over again until you feel your body tense and lightly shake. You roll your head back, your groans getting louder and deeper. His hands squeeze your perfect ass and the fire in you explodes. You shout his name when you reach your high.

Hoseok gets up and you fall against his chest because of your post-orgasm shaky legs. You feel good in his arms, especially when he pats your hair. You catch your breathe and starting unbuckling his belt before undressing him. You gasp and blush hard when you see Hoseok's cock. You've never thought you would see it one day, and he has nothing to be ashamed of. Hoseok's member is not particularly thick but it's definitely long. The sight of his hard cock makes your mouth water at the same time it makes your pussy even wetter.

You press your lips on his, feeling his dick pressed on your belly, hard and warm. You gently push Hobi on the bed, his back resting on his headboard. You get on top of him, still kissing. You bite his lower lip when his hands firmly grab your ass. He places delicate pecks on your collarbone to your tits. You press his head deeper on your skin.

"Grab a condom in the night stand" He asks you with a raspy voice

It's at that moment that you realize he hasn't spoke until now. You stretch your body to open the drawer and pull off a metallic square packet. You open it and give the condom to Hoseok for him to cover his length. When he is done, he grabs your hips and push you down. Right before entering you, he looks you in the eyes. You nod, saying that you're okay and he slowly stretches your pussy. It feels so good and a long moan escapes your parted and swollen lips.

"You feel so good" Hoseok whispers against your neck with his eyes closed

You stay on his cock a few seconds to adapt. He is so long, you can feel him very deep inside you. You rest your forehead against his and start bouncing on him. Sinful sounds of skins slapping fill the air and make you more horny. You even have the feeling that Hoseok's cock is getting harder. Quickly, your skins are covered with a thin layer of sweat. You hold him close to you, your arms around his shoulders. Hoseok's fingers grab your boob and play with your nipple while the other is wrapped around your waist helping you to ride him.

"Oh my god, Hobi!" You scream when his cock hits your g-spot

"Keep going, it's so fucking good, Y/N" Hoseok cheers you before storming on your pretty lips "You are so gorgeous, do you know that?"

His compliment makes you clench around his long dick. Each slide against your walls is a pleasure that makes your tighter. You are beginning to feel tired, especially when your second orgasm is not far but Hoseok helps you by lifting his hips to meet yours harder and deeper. The slapping sounds made by your thighs is louder and it drives you and Hoseok crazy.

"I'm close" You groan, closing your eyes to concentrate on the feeling of his big cock buried in your cunt

You feel good in his arms, you feel so close to him. He is taking you like he loved you and you are taking him like you loved him. This is exactly what you both needed. The whole bedroom is filled with your moans and slapping skins. You feel your pussy getting tighter and tighter around him, warning Hoseok that you're going to cum soon. He pounds you a little faster to make you reach your climax right before him, moaning each other's names.

You are both panting, foreheads against each other's. Hobi's hands gently caress your arms and your back while you free his pretty face from his sticky hair.

"Thank you, Y/N, for loving me tonight" He says, softly kissing your lips

"Thank you for loving me tonight, Hobi" You whisper back

He invites you to take a shower, which you gladly accept. Someway, your heart feels less heavy. Not only you didn't think about Jungkook while you were with Hobi, but you also could release a little bit of your love to give it to someone who needed it. Hoseok feels the exact same. He didn't think he would ever, ever have sex with you and yet, it was a beautiful moment. You were so delicate in his arms and he has held you so sweetly, giving up a little bit of his sorrow. He just hopes you don't think he was using you, and he hopes that you could spend time together and try to be the old friends that you are.

————

Your day is a perfect example of the Ying Yang symbol. Everything started good, great even: Namjoon has just told you that the gallery wanted to keep working with you and offered you a permanent contract. You were so, so happy and you gave him a little demonstration of your 'happy dance' and he laughed a little bit too much to not upset you - not that you resent him because you ended up laughing harder when he started dancing too.

But then, everything went beyond wrong when Aecha, your colleague in charge of the communication, asked you to welcome the new graphic designer for a future exhibition in few months. In fact, in a city as big as Seoul, the odds of this graphic designer being the only person you don't want to see are low. But you are not lucky. Because while waiting for this new partner to arrive, your heart skips a beat when none other than Jeon Jungkook walks towards you. 

previous ← 6 → next

Taglist @hoseokteardrop @aerynorirene @jkoooooooookie @lacolegaming @busanbby-jjk @mysteriousstress65 @coralmusicblaze

Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist

[teenietinytangerine]

-.

THE HELLMOUTH'S TEETH;

main pairing: oc x yoongi

oc/reader: Saein, a Slayer from Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe, years after the end of the show. casted in my head as Go Minsi. yoongi: a Gumiho, the Fox, whose particularity is to feed through people's fear and pleasure.

genre: smut, fantasy.

word count: 11k (how? i swear this is pure smut.)

note: finally done and put together! this is soooo self-serving, i'm so sorry, lots of teasing and they are so horny.

summary:

The prophecies. The legends. Hwachang, a misty city in the south of Seoul was sitting prettily on top of an Hellmouth - a fissure between realities known to ooze demons, attract local bloodsuckers, kooky wizards and the occasional mummy, but nothing to worry! For the Slayer (or one of anyway) had made it her home and kept the lid on the infernal soup. Somewhat. As best as she could while juggling her two part-times and a gig in a rockband. But  stake a vampire's heart above all! Or fix a Gumiho issue. A sneaky nine-tailed fox, that a sunny-smiled client had brought to her door, and with payment for a change! But things get out of control, and next thing the Slayer knew, she had volunteered to be the Fox's source of food. Thankfully, it wasn't too unpleasant.

preview:

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe if it hadn't been after the bath, maybe if it hadn't been after that kiss, maybe if, tonight especially, she didn't need the escapism like a drug, then maybe only it would have been easier to refuse his attentions and focus on her promise to make that Fox relinquinsh control and succomb to his own pleasure. His breath alone was making her delicate skin quiver, her back bent towards his marble-fleshed torso, so immersed in the hymn of their frenzy, that, one by one, her senses shivered and marvelled. Dangerous.

PART I. LUST AT FIRST SIGHT.

chapter 1. The Proposition.

“What did you say?” 

Yoongi asked, his voice cracking under the surprise, and his usually mythical face breaking into an expression of utter disbelief. Saein remained unphased to the Gumiho suddenly looking like an old man in need of his reading glasses, and reiterated:   

“I said I’ll feed you.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“I did my research. I know.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, not unamused. In front of him, there she stood, the Slayer, the night's spawns nightmare in tight leather and high ponytail. One he ever only heard tales of, until a week ago when she barged into the nice little haunted house he had made for himself and ruined it. Not only the traps were all reduced to shreds, but the furniture and the wallpaper were impossible to save, it was going to cost him the guy who apparently actually owned the house a fortune to replace. Oh, and she beat the living crap out of him.

And now, there she was.

“Why would you do that?”

“You are such a picky eater!"

“I’m just being careful with spicy food. Especially ones who leave me with souvenirs.”

The Gumiho pulled down his collar to expose the scar she had left above his collarbone, still red and painful even to only look at.

Now would be a good time to precise how worned-out Yoongi looked. The dark high-end and tailored modern hanbok he was wearing only highlighted how sickly pale his skin had turned, and his posture was betraying the pain his body was silently putting him through. It wasn't about the wounds, or the bruising, or the beat down that refused to heal as it usually would have in a matter of minutes. It was the hunger.

Saein sighed and grimaced. “You told me it was my fault you were homeless, my fault if you were gonna starve without all your booby traps, and goat heads falling from the ceilling-

"Chicken heads."

"Chicken heads falling from the ceilling, and I just, I thought about it. Now, let me say, I don't agree that it was wrong of me to save those poor people from being Beetlejuiced to near-death and their fear being ingested by a literal hell being, but... I checked, and you didn't kill anyone, and I guess you're right, you can't help how you feed, so...”

“So? You’re going to…”

“Not let you starve.”

This time, the Fox busted out in an incredulous laughter. The girl was messing with him, showing up with all five feet of snark at his door and empty promises in a leather trench coat.

He bent over, squinting. "Really? Want me to scare you, little Slayer?”

"No... Not the diet I had in mind."

"That's what I- uh?"

"You know..."

Her eyes did the talking.  

"Oh,

He blinked,

Oh."

She never lacked confidence, Saein, but this was a bold move even for her. Paying for the impulsivity of her desires, her hair still messy from the run and shoes muddied by the path. All she knew was that she needed an escape. Needed to scratch an itch.

So there she walked in, in the lair of what she fought yesterday, succombing to a pull she should not have felt when they were dusting the walls with each other's bodies, and standing on the threshold of the theaters of horrors, too at-ease in its throes to shiver at the sight anymore. 

Thankfully, every doubt she may have had were obscured by the sheer strength of her stubbornness. So much so that, when the Gumiho approached at an excruciatingly slow pace, honoring the feline in him, all he could read on her pretty, provocative face was her dare to take her at her word. (Or, you know, take her.)

For a second, even silence was held in the air as they stared shamelessly at each other. Judging. Gauging.

He looked otherworldly, with a hint of depravity, but she knew that already.

She looked delicious, with a hint of sardonic, but he knew that already.

“Really,” she answered the question he hadn't asked yet but was all over his face. She could swear his pupils enlarged, but yet the doubt remain. How could she convince this demon to bed her already?

Saein grabbed the necklace hanging low from his neck and yanked him closer. She repeated, softer this time, mellow almost, in a whisper that only made sense at this distance.

“Really.”

Her eyes fell naturally on his lips. Beautiful, sharply carved but full, bitable lips... As she imperceptibly leaned, encouraged by his stunned silence, Yoongi suddenly pulled back, using his height to create some distance between them again.

“If you’re not interested-”

“That’s not what- Hm. You are serious.”

“I'm... Curious.”

He lifted an unconvinced eyebrow.

“And you trust me?”

“ … I do, for this. It’s your expertise, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

He smacked his lips, seemingly deep in thoughts into the spiral of his turmoils.

She had a way about her, the Slayer, a tranquil confidence enveloped in fiery defiance. Until this stormy night, he had only seen an annoying force of nature, an improchable champion with the occasional touch of sarcasm and terrible, terrible jokes. But now... Now, she was offering herself up with an unbearable human fragility that was, oh, so tantalizing. 

The sweetest bait that just might be worth the honey it held. And gods, what a lie it would be to say he hadn't wanted to devour her at every heartbeat of hers.

He couldn’t help himself but fall in it. 

It was all instincts, wasn't it? He was an expert at this after all. Who was he to refuse a willing meal when he was this farmished?

His fingers tucked back a strand of her hair behind her ear, and the first skinship came. Through it, the Gumiho could feel what she felt. This much wasn't enough to probe through the tempest of feelings he found, but just enough of an hint to get the hint. 

She wasn’t lying. There was no trap, none intentional anyway. She just... She just wanted this. All he could pick up clearly above the surface was her anticipation, and lust. And yes, lust, he knew how to deal with.

His thumb fluttered along her jaw all the way right below her lips.

Saein, as if hypnotized, forgot her breath held in suspension, as he brought her slowly to the border of him.

"Still sure?" He inquired.

His voice had changed. The traces of the wounded, unsure man had been replaced by the glory of the Gumiho, confident and at ease in his domain. Still, he wanted to give her one last chance to slip away if she wished.

 But she didn't.

"Still."

Her stare fell down on the curves of his own parted mouth, deliberately, making her intentions plain, leaning in to let their breathings tangled. So slowly that every second became deliciously agonizing, she was guiding her face towards his. Their noses grazed and...

“Not like this.” A grin stretched on his lips. “I’ve got a ritual of sorts.”

chapter 2. The Bath.

When Yoongi came out of the room he had disappeared to, he turned back to where he had left her, half expecting to see her gone. Instead, the Slayer was removing her leather coat, revealing the white tanktop underneath, and set it carefully on a chair. She must have heard him because her head suddenly turned to him.

"Everything okay?"  

He nodded. She walked towards him, throwing him a then-what-are-we-waiting-for look and passed him inside.

He had led them into the bathroom, but it wasn't any bathroom.

The sun in its dying hours was coating the wood and dark stones. The bath, as its center piece, encased in the ground, was in the form of a lotus flower and surrounded by a plethora of plants, growing their roots and leaves in-between vials and candles. It was as if stepping into a japanese bathhouse.  

Out of nowhere, water began flowing and the steam spiraled up in the air, drawing strokes in the beams of orange light. With another flick of the wrist, the wooden curtains gently fell. The candles, as well as firefly-like lights appearing out of thin air and began faintly floating, brightening the room in a million stars.

"That's your ritual? A bath?"

  She only realised he was behind her when his hands adventured on her hips as he was leading her playfully ahead.

"You spend your nights chasing cadavres in cemeteries, can you blame me?" He said, leaning in on the crook of her neck. His index slipped under the band of her tanktop, on her bare skin, creating unanticipated tickles. Damn it, she could not lose it this early.  

"Alright now, that's part of the whole schtick, it doesn't mean I'm not familiar with soap-" Her protestation and poor attempt at clinging onto her fake offense, was blown out like a candle flame as he placed a chaste kiss below her ear.

"Shh..."

Saein became overly aware of the sound of her own heartbeat.

The temperature and humidity of the room had climbed too high already to remain comfortable in there, at least not fully clothed. He pulled her closer. His fingers had only grown more explorative under her shirt, but yet kept their composure in that they seemed to only graze her skin out of curiosity, trailing paths of pins and needles. As her head started slowly spinning, she leaned her weight back into him.

"...So hot, in there."

Saein gestured towards removing her top, avid to dive in the dance but he held her in place.

"Don't. Let me." His voice had changed, deeper, authoritative, as if the mask of the Man was fissuring, and something else was piercing through.

The Fox, still behind her, removed the piece of coton out of her, leaving her bra as the sole protector of her bust. Was she taking it too far? Should she run? But those damn fingers, tracing thoughtless patterns on her neck, her shoulders, her back, while she was biting her lip down, were impossible to deny.

Fighting every instinct to stay put, she let him play with her, ravaging her with the most innocuous motions while every fiber of her being were screaming for permission to pin him on the floor and turn this slow dance into a savage debauchery. But he wouldn't let her, and she knew why. There was a savour in that leisure.

A silent sigh escaped her when he suddenly undid her denim button and the baggy jeans dropped to her ankles. She felt him so close behind her but he was careful to never let his body brush her more than a few seconds, here and there, only in the most benign parts of her.

Gently, but expertly, he stripped every single piece of clothing off of her, the necklace first, her bra disappeared with another kiss on her shoulder, and her panties just slidding down. During which, he always prevented her to speed up the process by assisting in any kind of way, or even turning around to face him despite her attempts that he only shut down with whispers.

"Trust me, just with this." And somehow, she did.

Being starked naked did not seem to bother the Slayer. It did felt only natural in this place, in his hands. The volutes of steam were her clothes.

Yoongi only left her back to grab her hand and lead her inside the bath.

By the time she sank in, Saein was losing the thread of her thoughts in the sensitive mess he had made of her skin. The velvet of the warm water over her millions of pins and needles felt like a welcomed healing balm, and she released a pleased sigh.

In her bubbles, she was drifing as if in a cozy hug while he stood dry and fully dressed, sitting himself down by the edge of the bath, a smile floating on his lips, absorbed in his view. Still now, some part of him was expecting her to stand up in a furry, throw a punch at him and leave. But there she was, the mighty Slayer, her eyes coated with a hazy nitescence, her jet hair swaying in the wake of the waves and petals, and the most delighted expression painting her visage.

Beautiful.

"How are you feeling?"

She breathed in and stretched.

"Hm, warm, good." She seemed to suddenly remember his existence as she turned to him. A sly smile and the mischievous siren slid in the water to his side.

She pulled on his sleeve. "Come."

With care, he removed her grasp and, instead, turned her easily  in an embrace and brought her closer to him, keeping her back against the edge of the bath and therefore removing himself from her vision while invading once again her space, his nose straying by her ear.

"No, thank you. I like the view better from here."

Out of thin air, Yoongi pulled a sponge already foaming and began bathing her, washing properly her arms, her feet, her thighs; brushing innocently over her chest, hovering prudishly between her legs... When she strayed too far ahead in the water, the Gumiho had to bend over to bring her back with a firm pull.

"Come back here", he murmured to her ear and the sensation of his breath sent a pulse in her belly.

"Stop teasing me." She nearly moaned.

She could hear him hold back a chuckle.

"Already?"

He was worse than a cat with a mouse, and the anticipation was now killing her.

"Alright, then." He took a nibble at her earlobe while his hand abandoned the sponge to travel with purpose to her breasts.

Saein muffled a gasp when she felt the light touch turn into an intentional, powerful hold onto her bosom, contrasted by a sly thumb greating her nipple, waking it up, soon joined by his forefinger to puck her bud.

Yoongi readjusted himself to be able to see the way his palm cupped under her flesh, how her nipples reacted to his touch and how her breathing grew deeper and deeper. His digits was exploring her sensitivities, circling with precision and mirroring on the other, wondering how they would feel between his teeth... Hm, focus!

Every tremor of hers was improving his aim and soon she came to regret the time he teased her for now all his attentions seemed to be finding the most sensible inches of her. Through his fingertips, the nine-tailed fox could sense the wave of pleasure rising in her, the slow churning he was spurring, and only when it reached the tide he craved for, one of his hand slipped all the way down to the warmth of her intimacy.  

The moment his fingers brushed against her clitoris, a surge sent electricity in her entire body. He had built a craving the moment he had refused her that kiss that was just starting to be fulfilled. Saein held back a moan as he began exploring, gingerly fondling her button at the rhythm of her twitches, stroking her piano keys and figuring out her harmony. It's only when she dropped her head back on his shoulder with a contained groan that he noticed something was off.

He froze, ceasing coldly all his attentions despite the verbal protest she opposed him, leaving her oh so lonely, and frowned.

"Are you holding back your voice?"

"Uh? Why would I..."

He scoffed.

"You are!" The Gumiho couldn't tell if he was outraged or amused.

"I thought you wanted to feed me, what kind of lukewarm meal is that?"

 This was her first chance to properly breathe among the steam that was now completely enveloping them.

"Maybe, I'm just not the loud type" Shameless, the huntress that had made herself a willing prey wouldn't even turn her head to see the disapproving face of a man that was not buying any of that bullshit.

"Oh, really?"

Thank goodness she could not see the glint that had lit up in his eyes. Without warning, his fingers took back hold of what they had abandoned and, neglecting the gentleness they had showed previously, threw her back into such a tidal wave that nearly defeated her right here and there.

The moment she showed signs of reaching aphrodisia, he pulled her up, slightly, with his arm around her waist, while his thumb took over for his finger to fray itself a path through her intimity, welcoming him by squizzing around his digit at every millimeters acquired.

A long, loud and clear moan escaped her lips and fell with the taste of candy into his ears. That little bastard.

But he doesn't gloat further. He knows he opened the floods he meant to open and Saein showed no signs, despite her annoyance, to close them again, getting louder and louder as his fingers slipped deeper and deeper, with an expert cadence and making her forget why she ever felt embarrassed, or even where she was.

The tsunami announcing in her was now reflected in her unrest body making their own, actual, waves in that bath of his, kicking unintentionally. She reached for the edge of the bathtub for support but instead found the back of his arm. Getting the silent message, with a kiss in the nook of her neck, he kept her pinned against the tub, one hand on her stomach while the other was bringing her closer and closer to frenzy.

The fox knew, at her expense, when to slow down to only push her further, higher, torturing her by teasing a release that he removed immediately by changing the rhythm and scaring her with the desperation for it she was reaching.

The faster her heart was beating, the closer the ebullition was heating up in her, the more energy was pulsing from her to him, clouding his judgment and restraint. His kiss on her neck turned into frenzied licks, his tongue tasting the salt of her skin, loosing himself in the sheer power of her arousal feeding him. Literally. His strength was coming back, his wounds were healing, but the Gumiho had not realised it yet, nor was it in anyway on his mind, for at this instant, he was completely drunk on her.

Another va-et-viens, a crooked pressure at a nook he had noticed made her particularly tingle and -

"Fuck, fuck!"

Her toes curled. Every fiber of her being tensed as the pleasure flooded in and out of her. Yoongi barely slowed down for a minute, letting them both ride it, only focusing on not letting her drag him with her, until he felt her hand try to push his away. He held on.

"Not yet. More." He groaned, that bass in his voice more guttural than ever.

His movements picked up and the Slayer that wasn't even properly done riding her first orgasm, nearly squeaked as the second came on the horizon.

"What?" The word, though singular, struggled to come out from her already busy vocal chords, in between her pantings and puffings. Her being was intoxicated, still high in that nine cloud, and every nerve exposed. He could not be serious. 

"You can go higher."

His velvety tone did not align with the manner in which he took back hold on her clitoris with his thumb while the rest of his long and articulate fingers were arching in her without mercy, using every bit of knowledge they had gained. His increasing scorch breath tickling her lobe, his expertise on her loins, Saein could only recognize that he was right, she could get higher.  

She was kicking the water and cursed his name in unspeakable languages, when, suddenly her sensual frame calmed in the waters and eyes rolled back. It came as if she was falling in the void, but was caught again, and was floating in an ether made of ecstasy. An ecstasy that the Fox was slurping on like a fine tantalizing wine, impervious to how dangerously drunk on it he was getting. He guided her through it, driving her through the surges almost religiously, their hearts beating at the same cadence, his forehead resting on the back of her head, until, little by little, they became ripples.

Then only, he withdrew.

Yoongi let go of her feverish body he was holding up until now... Only to immediately catch her again when he noticed the doll with broken strings was slipping down too fast and too low in the waters. He snapped back to reality.

"Oi, careful there."

The siren, in the end, was only human. Her eyes, confused, drained but coated in delirious bliss, rolled back to meet his. Saein, not quite back from that dimension she just visited, smiled faintly through her euphoria.

"... Damn...", the monster whispered.

He sat her back up in the bath, more securely. After making sure she was holding up on her own, he let go to lean back on the edge. His chin in his palm, Yoongi watched her come back to earth, fascinated. If he had been more honest, he might have admitted she wasn't the only one that needed to clear her head and settle down. However, because the fox's nature is to deceive, he put his light-headedness and aroused senses on the account of not having this kind of meal in quite some time. He was just out of practice.

Saein was observing him too, in a haze, through the steam. Everything was quieter, a welcomed silence only bothered by their breathing and the water splashing.

She had floated to a nearby corner, still close to him but far enough she could look at him properly. He hadn't let her sneak a peek of his face while he was playing with her. Now, there he was, almost glowing in the candlelight, a look of pure satisfaction on his fine lines.

Her gaze took the time she never had to feast on his smooth though a bit damp skin, the sharp shape of his eyebrows, his long dark eyelashes, the round curve of his nose only to fall, without fail on his lips. His full, enticing, slightly apart lips.

Two fruits ready for reaping, fruits that he had denied her before, only to tease them on her neck, made only redder and gorged.

It happened as if in a dream.

She didn't realize she had been moving, nor did he understand her intentions until, with barely a touch, with the softest of collision, her lips locked themselves with his.

His eyes widened as hers close shut.

She kissed him as she would take the first bite for the very first taste of a summer peach. It was a slow kiss, a tender kiss. She kissed him and it felt like the silkiest caress, and yet it sent volts through every fiber of his.

Impervious, a tender smile of hers broke it.

"That was nice."  

Taken aback, the Fox blinked.

He would have stayed there, frozen, if in her attempt to return to her previous position, she hadn't slipped down and nearly drowned again before he caught back her arm (and his senses). He pulled her drained body out of the bath. She had passed out. Maybe he went a bit too far.

"Alright, time for a nap."

With a swift movement, and a surnatural strength restored thanks to her, Yoongi got her up into his arms, grabbing a towel he snuggled her into, and carried her out, to the bedroom.

.cookie.

Yoongi sat her on the mattress, handing her an old tee-shirt, as she mumbled, still half in a dream's state.

"I'm not sleepy."

"Your eyes are currently closed."

Crunching her nose to grimace the offense-taken, she then proceeded to open, with terrible difficulty, her betrayer of eyes. She managed to see the blurry silhouette of him in-between her slow blinks, and the white tee on her laps. She slipped it on.

As he was about to leave, she called for him.

"How about you?"

"What about me?"

Saein, in a torpor state, reached for the rim of his pants before he could slipped away.

"Don't you want me to take care of you?"

The cocky smile he drew on his face was not quite as confident as he thought it was, still rattled by the k-, by earlier. He gently removed her hand and leaned to grab her shoulders and lay her down on the bed.

"It's your pleasure that feeds me, not mine. So... I need you rested, and comfortable, and happy. Sleep, I'm begging you."

The Slayer could not deny the exhaustion that had taken over her, not when she could scarcely get back up on her own, and her will faded away when she felt the softness of the comforter. Still, she grabbed his shirt before he could back away.

"But it still feels good, right?"

This time, he laughed. "I guess it's not too bad."

Now, her smile, that was a cocky smile.

With no warning, she pulled him, and he was suddenly forced to remember who he was dealing with and her strength as he nearly smashed into her if he hadn't caught himself with an elbow, inches away from her face.

Yoongi gulped, and stared at her temple, desperatly not looking at anything else (which is ironic if you ask me, considering he was seen every naked contour of her not but ten minutes ago, but don't tell the fox).

Saein, on the other hand, seemed to crave the proximity.

"I'll sleep, if you sleep."

"I don't-" But every protestation died in his throat for she was already rolling on the side, at his relief, but not without taking his right arm with her, forcing him into an embrace. She hugged his hand against her chest like a child with a toy, finally letting herself sink into a pillow and in rest. 

I guess i could use a nap. Giving up, (without too much of a fight if I do say so myself)  the Gumiho made himself comfortable and soon slipped into Morpheus arms, his nose nuzzled into her hair.

chapter 3. In Silky Sheets.

Snuggled against him, and his warmth, his slow breathing.

For the first time in years, the Slayer had dreamt of nothing. Her mind had been preoccupied with rest only. Even as she rose back into consciousness, the scent of serenity accompanied her. Was it the way the dying-sun's light was turning golden through the dancing curtains, or the summer breeze of the evening lulling on her cheeks?

Saein wondered why she was fighting the urge to let the embrace of oblivion wrap her once again, when something chuffled in her back. Ah yes, the Fox. The sneaky little Gumiho she had thrown herself at and yet could not find any regrets for, thus far, was now innocently dozing off behind her.

Her sleepy gaze fell on his curled hand, right above hers, still exactly where she had put it before her nap, forcing the mythical creature to cuddle her from behind. Saein was, without meaning to, noting that hand's every detail: the paths his veins were drawing on his skin, the pinkish color of his knuckles, how long his pianist-like fingers extended despite being now crouched over themselves...

Her mind wandered towards those fingers'... abilities. Past achievements, if you will. Not those, you dirty mind. The way he could sense and absorb emotions, but not any emotion, just pleasure. Fear and pleasure. An empath that could feed, and starve on her euphorias and terrors. Her thoughts seemlessly drifted to what those fingers did to her only a few hours before, how they felt on her body, in her body... The memory alone was enough to bring back the electric warmth.

Nevertheless, it felt like trying to remember a dream that kept escaping her. The more she tried to recount all the details, the more she grew restless. More aware of his proximity, right next to her, still seeming too far. She couldn't help keep staring at those fingers, so close to her own hand, so easily reachable, and yet both remaining motionless.  

Suddenly, it occurred to her.

Once again, somehow, she had her back to him. She wanted to see his face.

Suddenly hyperaware of every movement she made, and every sound rising, Saein carefully rolled herself over, but the change of position slipped his unconscious hand to her waist. Damnit. Nevermind, her goal was reached.

Now, facing each other, she could see him. Half his face snuggled into a pillow, the Fox looked peaceful. Innocent, even. Incredibly human, not a single feature betraying his nature. His raven hair were falling across his eyelids, moving with the breeze.

 "You're..."  Gorgeous. It was stupid how gorgeous he was. It would be pointless trying to explain the harmony of his features, he might as well have been sculpted by the fabric of the universe itself.  

"Hm?"

His cave-like grumbling voice stopped her cold in her tracks, realizing she had leaned mere inches away from him. 

The Gumiho's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, they were both frozen. Then, Saein tilted her head and innocently echoed him.

"Hm?"

The Gumiho's eyes fluttered open.

"What are you do-"

He murmured, barely woken up, and unable to process the situation. He was only aware of her face closing the distance on his. He recognized the same look she had given him earlier, in the bath, right before she...

 If only she knew how he was looking back at her, completely puzzled and adoring with defeat the confusion she was putting him through, but her attention was entirely on her own realization of his absolute sinful beauty she was gorging herself in.

Without a thought in her head, Saein swallowed the last distance between them and sealed their lips in a mellow kiss. This time, the fox was not as taken aback as he was before. Almost instinctively, he reciprocated, but the kiss was only buttefly and flew away before he could think of his actions. Or succomb to them.

"You've got to stop doing that", he mumbled behind his breathe. They were close enough to hear any whisper from each other.

"Why?"

Why?  Why? This was not how things usually go. By now, she should be miles away from here, actually she shouldn't even be in his bed. Actually, a Slayer, should not even be in the same city than him. Definitively not offer herself up as a midnight snack. Her scent should not be all over his sheets, and he should not be woken up by the satin touch of her kiss.

She rubbed her nose against his. He stiffened.

"It's not what I usually ..."

"It's not part of the ritual?"

"Something like that." But you're not pushing her off.

Saein shifted but maintained the distance, or lack of, between them, and smacked her lips.

"Hm, you said you feed on my pleasure, so...  Can't you feel it?"

He did.

Every brush against his nose, the slightest touch of her wandering lips hovering right above his, waiting for nothing more than permission. A wildfire of a woman. With every skinship, he felt her, completely, her and the flood of emotions she carried. More than the kiss, it was the eagerness that made him spiral. She was so .. What was she? 

Yoongi chuckled.

"By the hells, what did you dream about to wake up in that state?"

But he couldn't help himself, he couldn't deny that she was stirring up his own hunger that had only been added up since the steam rose at an alarming pace.

As if she could read his defenses melt away, her fingers ventured along his neck and travelled all the way to his jaw.

"I dreamt of a bath" She can't hold back the mischievous smile that carves those lovely dimples on her cheeks, flushed with fever and heavenly heat.

"A good bath?" The gumiho slightly rose up, making sure to never wander an inch away from the distance they had established, their breath mingling together.  

Her smile widened. "It wasn't too bad, I suppose."

Saein's fingers reached the side of his face, and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

That's all it took.

Yoongi succumbed to the black hole-like attraction. The moment his lips grabbed hers with force, a strange shiver tumbled down the back of his neck, running down his pearly spine and lazily spread over the curve of his loins.

Moving with nothing but the intoxication of the moment, disguising as two lovers held in time, their mouths met with demands and generously. Devouring each other. While her hand dropped along his neck to his chest, his abandonned their reluctance to find their way up her waist.

Saein didn't wait to take over. To his surprise, she suddenly rolled over him and saddled him, squizzing his midriff with her thighs and not letting him enough time to reciprocate before she shut him up back into their activity. Her hands slid along his busy sharp jaw, steering his face to her every whim. She guided the depth of the kiss to the heights of her expectations.

Nearly overcame by the softness of him, she was doing her best to hold back the instinct of ravaging her way through her desire, to savour every nerve electrified, but she couldn't bear it for long before she let both of them melt into the kiss, her eyelids closing fully as the feeling overtook her.

The chaste kiss was far gone. They were inhaling each other, noses colliding, alternating the softness of the lips with the mordant of the teeth, the tongues growing in dare, exploring how far the other would let them go and neither finding the will not to slip further and further into the rushed adrenaline.

When they reached the end of their breath, the lips naturally came to a still, yet still interlocked. Their sighs combined. Held between the seconds, there was like a silent question in suspension, from one body to another. And an answer. From him, especially, right under her seat.

There was a reason the Gumiho did not kiss. Although the mythical creature fed through every touch, his mouth remained the true mean to do so, and therefore, the most sensitive part of him.

She made his head spin, dangerously. He had a hard time focusing enough on her pleasure to consume it without getting distracted by his. He got so dismayed by his own efforts to snap out of it that he didn't notice one of her hand had forsaken his hair to travel down his chest and work on the buttons of his shirt, one by one.

He only noticed after she freed his mouth, even hungrily pursuing her in vain because she was caressing her way down his neck, leaving a trail of kisses on his trembling skin. When she reached his collarbone, all the buttons had come undone, and she could not help but stop to take in the view.

Before moving any way down further, she straighten herself, sitting back on him, squeezing her thighs around his midriff. Yoongi was having a hard time catching his breath, his eyes slightly rolled back, his mouth still hanging open. He looked both ethereal and lost in ether at once. Her gaze followed the trace of her own fingers on the muscles of his wide and defined chest, feasting on the pins and needles she saw appear behind.

"Not bad," she said, bitting her bottom lip.

"Not bad," he repeated.

With the sun coming from behind her, the Slayer looked divine. The Fox beheld her and her messy onyx hair dripping down in a sea on her shoulders, the silhouette of her sculpted waist through the white tee-shirt, and more so tantalizing was her enthranced gaze. Then, of course, there was her naked thighs pressing against his bare torso, and how if she were to move back ever so slightly...

His eyes widened when she proceeded to do just that, but instead of following through on his thoughts, she merely bent back to kiss, with tenderness, his pec. She was putting all her attention on how the muscles of his chest reacted to her touch, tensing up and releasing, caressing the smooth skin before adventuring herself onto the most enticing parts: the brown pinkish nipples.

Her teeth brushed over, then bit above it, before remembering what it felt like, him teasing her the same way before. Her sweet tongue tasted it, envelopped itself on the candy, playing with the other with her digits, exhorting a deep muffled grunt she had never heard out of him.

So, he was feeling it too. 

Her rigor only grew from here, salivating and massaging and feeling him tensed at every couture for it.

Yoongi didn't just lost control, he wasn't sure he could remember the meaning of the word. Admittedly, it had been a while since he had been on the receiving end but by the name of all that is evil, what the fuck.

When he felt her diabolical hand sneak down his belly, following his happy trail, he suddenly pulled himself back up. The Fox let her plummet on the mattress, probably more abruptly than he'd intended, and jumped out of bed on his feet.

With a forced laugh, one hand rubbing his neck, as if he just remembered something that could not wait, he put all his attentions on rebuttoning his shirt back on.

"Ah! I almost forgot! You're human, you gotta be hungry!" Parsed lips, eye contact nowhere to be seen.

Saein was too stunned to speak. Her eyes succinctly fell down below his waist but she did not comment on what she saw and he pretended not to notice.

He continued with a faster pace. "I take care of my guests, I'm not going to make you starve, I'm a demon, not a monster. Wait here."

Before she had the chance to riposte, or comprehend the sudden switch, he was gone in a storm.

chapter 4. I Want To Hear You Moan.

A few minutes later, they were sitting down, criss crossed on the rug, around the tea table of the living room. The night had come down. Saein was slurping on the ramen he had placed in front of her. To her surprise, he was slurping on his as well.

"You can eat?"

"Of course."

"I just assumed... Since..." She gestured vaguely in his direction, pointing at all of him.

The Slayer was used to her bloodsuckers who swore by nothing else but their sanguine juice. Even Taehyung, as sweet as he was, frowned in disgust at their human feast. Truth is, nothing from the Hellmouth had share noodles with her before.

"Well, it doesn't actually keep me alive, but I can still taste it." Yoongi procedeed to further demonstrate and slurped loudly on his noodles, maintaining eye contact. He put down the bowl with a satisfied smirked.

"Oh."

The Fox chuckled, amused by her deadpan answer.

"What? Am I getting a little too normal and human for you, Slayer?"

How dare he even implied she would chicken out after whatever the hell happened in that bedroom. She held his stare and, rising her chin with a sly smile, she answered,

"I think I'm the one who's getting a little too freaky for you."

The word choice made him choke on his ramen.

"What does that mean?"

Saein sighed and put down her cup on the table that seperated them.

"It means, I've got to start patrolling in an hour. Slayer duties, cemeteries, all the usual shabang."

The banter in him find itself extinguished. Yoongi plopped back down against the sofa he was using as backrest. His voice dropped.

"I'm not holding you back, you can go."

"I don't want to go. I have time."

He raised an unconvinced eyebrow.

Saein smacked her lips, seemingly deep in thoughts on how to phrase what weighted on her mind. Suddenly, she scooched closer to him and continued with honey in her tone.

"I want to stay, I do. But. If we're gonna keep going, and I hope we do, I'm gonna need some, hmm, reciprocity."

His eyebrows rose.

"Reciprocity?" He repeated, incredule.

She nodded. "Hm, hm."

"Reciprocity. Reciprocity? I know how to reciprocate, I've been reciprocating! No one has ever complained of my reciprocating skills before."

He could not have been more offended, he was a fantastic lover! Being a great lay was his whole shtick by the thousand hells. He had made her come twice with his fingers alone not even an hour ago, for crying out loud. He had felt how good she felt. There were no doubt she enjoyed their time. None. Right?

"Great, then let's do it. You gave, a lot." Was that a shadow of a blush on her cheeks? But he was hanging too close to every word she said to notice. "Now, it's my turn. I want to hear you moan."

All he could do was hide the shock behind a half-laugh, half scoff.  "Oh you-, you-"

"What? Afraid of losing control, little fox?"

When did she had gotten so close to him? This trickster of a woman was on her knees and toes, hands politely on the floor shifting her weight forward, her cocky expression shining through.

The tease got the exact effect she was hoping for.

She knew she had won the moment a pernicious glint appeared in his outraged yet burning dark stare.

In a flash, he grabbed her doll frame and pulled her effortlessly on his lap. His eyes filled themselves with a new fire.

"Go on then, Slayer, make me."

...

Schblam.

Her back cracked the cabinet in pieces as he slammed her into the wall. She barely felt it. Her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on her butt, her back, her hair, everywhere. His lips on her neck, jaw, mouth.

Closer, he wants her closer.

They were having a hard time finding their way back to the bed now that they were navigating virtually blind, too busy making out, or more accurately devoring each other, to look up where they were in the room, destroying furniture in the blaze of their fury.

Master of this clumsy waltz, Yoongi had their two braided bodies swirling again in the ether, the ocean of her mane unleashed in the air. She weighed nothing in his arms, but once she had an hold to press against, she was pulling him to her with the strength no human had.

The fusion of their scattered silhouettes melded with complicit mischief. Her thighs tightened around him to ensure her hold, while she was gripping the nape of his neck, her slender fingers lacing caresses of delicacy and furor at the fluctuating demands of her storming mind. 

The tempest of their bodies raged.

In the enticing torpor that had lured him since she took off that stupid leather jacket, Yoongi uncovered the dephth at which her favors were bewitching. In a world that had only felt like an arrid strange land since his arrival, with the exception of the occasional ice americano, she felt, in this instant, warm and welcoming in an intoxicating way. Almost primal.

Giving up on the bed, the Gumiho pinned her higher against the wall, to make sure her ass wouldn't fall on the ground, and to be able to free one his hand to cup her face and deepen their endless kiss, slowing it in a decisive pace, guiding it beyond the teasing manners they had kept it at in their hurry, pressing in with a confused-by-how-good-that-felt frown as the flow of her pleasure slowly rose and sizzled and turned into pure blue energy when it slid into his veins.

Saein was drunk on him. It felt like she just took an entire line of vodka shots of pure him in a matter of minutes, and then went to do vaults to make sure it got straight to her head.

He felt everywhere, pressing her up with the mere weight of his body, and he felt good. Too good. The agreement she had extorted out of him, only to be turn into a challenge, it was all a distant memory. But not quite forgotten yet.

As he imperceptibly went for air, the Slayer got a hold of herself just long enough to remember.

And bit viciously his bottom lip.

"Not," he shut her up with another, lighter kiss, unbothered if not further turned on with her antics, "holding up," his tongue teased hers, it was now a game and an adorable way to turn every end of her every word into a moan "your end of," she tried continue faintly but she momentarily lost herself to the temptation, shutting herself up to bring him closer, to feast on the lips he was urging on hers so eagerly at the will of their heavy breathing, until he was the one demanding more.

She could feel his large palm molding part of her ass in a not-so-innocent way. It would be the easiest thing to lose herself in his touch. To let him lead again. If he can play with that tongue like that everywhere...

But she had other appetites.

Reciprocity.

Abruptly, she turned his head to bite on his ear, pulling on his earring with her canines and groaned with menace, "the bargain."

She didn't see his eyes flutter, nor could have guessed the shiver that had stroke him all the way down.

"'Don't know what you mean."

Yoongi escaped her complains by carrying her to a desk, sitting her down on it brutally, sending papers flying and a lamp crashing down, and started to partake on the nook of her neck while his hands adventured all over her hips and teased her breast, innocently sliding a thumb under a boob while holding her, brushing and pressing.

His mouth, on the other hand, was making no secrets and licked and sucked along every line it find on her neck like it was ice cream and he was starving.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe if it hadn't been after the bath, maybe if it hadn't been after that kiss, maybe if, tonight especially, she didn't need the escapism like a drug, maybe then only it would have been easier to refuse his attentions and focus on her promise to herself to make that fox relinquinsh control and succombed to his own pleasure.

His breath alone was making her delicate skin quiver, her back bent towards his marble-fleshed torso, so immersed in the hymn of their frenzy, that, one by one, her senses shivered and marvelled.

Dangerous.

Call it ego, or stupidity, Saein find a remnant of will and kicked him off two steps away from her.

Still panting, they stared at each other, two animals basking in the tipping point.

Yoongi worried for a second that he crossed a line. He was looking at her face, trying to figure out where her mind was at but all he found was her checking him out shamelessly, still dripping in lust, and he immediately caught on.

His black hair were as messy as could be, falling in curls above his wandering eyes. His shirt was holding on to a thread and revealed the sculpted torso she had drooled on and, lastly, the bulge in his pants had grown in a much promising way.

The sight made her lips stretch in a sly smile. Saein took a long breath and stretched like a cat, still perched above him on her desk.

"Reciprocity, remember?"

Without letting him answer, she jumped down and, rising on her tiptoes to reach him, grasped the rebellious locks of his ebony tousled hair, tugged on it to resume the salacious dance of their mouths. Their noses meeting once more, brushing, fleeing, finding each other again, crashing when her top lip was teasing his bottom. Eager mouths learning to savor one another in a religious manner yet never imprisoned.

All the while, she was guiding him with command backwards across the room until his legs gave in under the couch. Yoongi fell backwards on his butt and looked up.

There, in front of him, the divine siren kneeled.

When her fingers ran up along his thighs, he swallowed hard, and she surprised herself at how adorable she found him and his disastrous inability to hide his emotions. That's not what she expected when she got there. Saein had been under the impression that the Gumiho would be much more, hm, jaded, about it all, sex being part of their five fruits and vegetables a day after all. Seeing him on the edge of undone, all the promises of her effect and the obvious waves she rose in him duplicated tenfold her thrill.

She barely brushed over the fabric of his pants up along his inner thigh that he had stopped looking at her, searching some elusive answer on the ceiling, but she didn't need to read his face to know.

"Oh, does it feel good?" she said, sheepishly, a merciless sweet voice.

He let out a silent protest that felt very much like a how-dare-you-be-right to her and breathed in, although it almost sounded like an hiss. He breathed out and closed his eyes. When he reopened them, surprised (or disappointed) she hadn't made of a move, he looked down at her.

"Is that your attempt at... recriprocity?" he said, with a lot of aplomb for someone she had now a good view for how aroused he actually was, and would not take her eyes off of it, not even to meet his, feeding on her own anticipation at all the work she had cut out for herself.

 Yoongi was only wearing light black pants, the silky shirt had already flown away some time during their trip around the living room. Barely a button and a zipper in her way.

"Is that permission to attempt?" Her fingers slid in circles, mere millimeters from the bulge. She knew she was torturing him, and she wouldn't say she didn't take great pleasure in it. It was, after all, a breeze compared to what he did to her (note: Yoongi does not agree with that).

He laughed. "To attempt..." and as he laughed, revealing a gummy smile, she could see him visibly relax, sinking in the couch a little more at each chuckles.

For the second time, the word 'adorable' popped up in her head - which she quickly whisked away. What the hell is wrong with you, Saein? Truth is, it was easy to forget she was in the belly of the beast, for she pathed her way through his fangs so eagerly. Above her, there were little of the Gumiho in his demeanor, and so much of the sweet, charming in his clusminess, a bit confounding but eye-catching Min Yoongi - the one that had pulled on her heartstrings every time he pushed his glasses up his nose when he introduced himself to her in the library. The ruse of a clever Fox.

Don't fall for the trick, not when you already pulled the veil.

Yoongi exhaled out, surrendering to his own battle. "Yeah, yeah it is. Permission."

"Good," she nearly purred.

A swear crossed his lips when he felt her fingers remove the barriers of his pants, sliding the zipper down and popping open the button in an excrutiating slow manner. His pupils widened when she planted a thieving kiss above the elastic waist and started making her way ... back up?

Kissing his pelvis, lacing over his hipbone, gorging up his soft abdomen, his chest, and in her feast, completely disregarding where she had hinted her appetites laid.

Against all of his expectations, her nibbling mouth made her way up fast, lingered just enough to lick his jugular, before she found his lips again.

Hiding his dismay as much to her as to himself, Yoongi eagerly responded, pherhaps too eagerly, hoping to fall back on their already established pattern. However, this kiss was different.

Saein gave him no ground to stand firm on, no disillusions of chastity or timidity. Her tongue had a will and a purpose, and Yoongi could do nothing but submit to the venereal greed of it. Faster than he'd care to admit, he grew properly inebriated on her aphrodisia, gripping her hips to pull her closer.

But Saein had not given up.

The moment she felt him lose himself in her, melting in her embrace and the familiar territories she had gifted him, the divine aphrodite brought their dance to an halt, foregead to forehead, towering slightly over him on that couch.

Both her hands cupped gently his face. She forced his stormed skies eyes to come meet hers and found a hazed starlight night in his semi-closed pupils instead, disarmed by the abandonment, the tenderness, the mere adoration he had forgotten to hide away. Her own gaze melted in his.

He wasn't hers, she wasn't his. Lovers with spikes on their walls and armors twirled in thorns. But, in this compressed eternity, they belonged to each other.

Against her every intentions, as their breath were one, Saein leaned in, pulled by some invisible thread, and sealed them in that hymn.

Her lips lingered on his, clinging to the last remnants of heaven yet scared to fall into its depths. She playfully grazed his nose with hers and held his chin up. The Slayer commanded his attention. Her thumb came to replace the ghost of her kiss. With it, she drew the rim of his lips with the care of a sculptor carving Galatea. His mouth watered with bewilderment. Content with his response, her digit pulled on his bottom lip, just enough to dare him to pull away. He didn't.

She pressed her thumb beyond the breach of his pearly teeth and let it be coated with his saliva. To have her finger playing with his tongue, so vulnerable in between his canines that he could snap it off her anytime but there was no illusion on who got who in their jaws.

She removed her thumb, mimicking another kiss with it before leaning back. Without breaking eye contact - the thought didn't even cross the Fox's pretty head, completely transfixed on the frolic confidence oozing from her every pore- she brought her forefinger into her own mouth, licking on it in a evocative movement. Then added another, and another. Up and down.

Her knee, between his legs, slid further in.

Shiii-

The Fox's mind turned blank.   

He should have easily guessed what her next step would be but the remnants of her show and the way she took back hold of his mouth without a moment's respite. Without more ceremony, her prepared fingers sunk back down and slipped under the trousers and underwear she had opened up in advance.

His heated limb welcomed her with a shiver and the proof it had been bracing itself for her, glazed in its own moist, moving with a will despite being still half-trapped in the constraint of the clothes.

The sudden wave of pleasure, relief, and exhilaration collided in a muffled mumble that came damn near to preemptivaly giving her what she had yearned for. By the way her smile grew against his mouth, she knew it.

Keep it together, Min Yoongi. 

Under her wandering hands, it didn't take long until she felt his frame tensing to the extreme. Everywhere. Especially where it interested her.

Reaching under the tee-shirt hiding all of her divine curves, his hands gripped to the hollow of her rear. Meanwhile, hers were gliding over what they had, by all means, forged and that she finally freed in the open air, feeling it expand.

The motion of her kiss matched with the rhytmic movement she applied on his spear and gonads. It seemed that, impervious to the silent battle he was waging with himself, his anatomy had no such concerns and had taken the initiative in a demonstrative and virile manner. She worked in a lascious manoeuvre to her own glee, and his.  

Already, however, her fingers did not feel enough. Her kiss was becoming sloppy as her attention were siphoned elsewhere. Feeling the smooth growth throwbing against her agile caress was not enough. She wanted to see it. To feel it. Differently, fully.

With one last smooch, she let go, fell down to her knees and started her descent to the desired spot. It was a mess. She had a mess of him. And it was glorious. Leaking, everywhere, ruining his pants, pink and wide, carved beautifully in purple veins and ornated below with heavy jewels.

How could her fingers ever hoped to take care of all of this alone?

If the Slayer wasn't such an experimented girl, she might have had felt bashful about how wet her mouth got just looking at this. It didn't escape her, nonetheless, how the appendage had grown even harder at the mere fact she was looking at it.

When her gaze rose to Yoongi's face, it was nowhere to be found, hidden away behind his forearm.

She kissed it, at first, right on the tip. To taste it. The sweet saltiness. It shivered, and what sounded like a rumble fell in her ears. Thankfully for him, she had grown out of her own patience, or she might have been tempted to tease some more of where that came from.

Her fingers laced around the base for stability and her mouth, after drooling on it, for show more than efficiancy considering he had taken care of all lubricity needs himself, tackled the lovely task with great, great skill, it must be said. Her deep chocolate locks were flowing up and down across her mischievous head as her nimble little hands busied themselves and her lips redoubled the ardor her fingers had shown.

It is out of a misguided and prideful desire not to crack too soon, and maybe a fear to admit defeat that the Fox was trying his darnest to hold back the sounds of rapture that were rushing in, begging to be released, and instead let a flow of curses escape under his breath. His attempt at hiding the effect she had couldn't dissolve the unreasonable craving taking control of his panting body. On the contrary, every attention on her part heightened his debauchery.

He felt her wet rim slid to the most sensitive places, in a perfect pace, and another expletive escaped from his tongue.

How the fuck did he end up here? What the fuck happened?

He felt the grip of her hands, the watery warmth of her swallowing him whole as he threw his head back in abandon. Everything was spinning around him all at once. The ceiling was barely in focus anymore. There was his own pleasure boiling up, of course, but there were hers as well that was not dying down, as he had expected it would in the task, but on the contrary bloomed further more, deversing and mixing up with his, blurring the lines. The Fox had to shut his eyes close.

She felt his muscles jolting under her touch. His sighs gave cadence to her movements. His body was the perfect indicator of the impact of her caresses on his manhood, guiding her, teaching her unknowingly his weaknesses.

Saein could hardly be more pleased with herself. If only her pretty face was not so busy, she would have the biggest grin on it. The doll was so delighted, she had lost sight of her original claim, while he was still so focused on it, losing his mind to not concede - a moan.

The intermittent breathing of his torso formed waves above her. She could hear him struggle and grasp at straws to contain himself as she continued to take hold of his intimacy. She had him squirming and driven crazy. She had already won.

At least, she thought it was enough, until it came.

He was close, too close. She could feel it by the way his muscles were twitching, his breathing accelerating. Another attention of hers, the slip of her tongue on a sensitive part longer than the other and it came, what she had been waiting for, no, craving for: a moan.

Yoongi froze, biting his lip to pretend it wasn't his. But there was no denying it.

A lustful moan. His moan, let out against his will, closer to a growl but indistinguishably the melody of a moan nonetheless. In it, she heard the frustration of his loss and yet, equally, the pure relief that comes with the releashment of control and self-restraint.

Now, she remembered all too clearly why she even wanted it in the first place, and couldn't believe she thought anything less would be enough. A thousand pins and needles ran along her spine. Her demands were originally only a matter of balancing out their power dynamic, she would have never guessed that the sound itself would send her reeling.  

As of now, she knew she would only need one or two back and forths to get him to his paroxysm, one he would have reached a thousand times already if he hadn't been holding himself back. Oh, she wanted to get him there so badly, before as revenge, now as reward.

She wanted to hear those moans rain in her ears. But before she could enact it, she felt two large hands grab her shoulders, shift her weight backward and pin her down on the carpet.

Yoongi towered over her, panting. Both his claws planted on the ground on each side of her head. His eyes were more predatory than human - lit with a crazed, contagious blue flame.

"You first," he groaned.

Covering her slender body, he plunged his head into her warm skin. With a few deft movements, he stripped off her of that damn T-shirt, strewing her chest with tormented kisses. It was truly, truly hard to be mad at this betrayer.

His rough palms molded her thighs, hips and ass again, as his jaws nestled in the hollow of her neck, only to trail down to her bosom, swallowing her curves in every way he could with the encouraging whine of the beneficiary.

His thirst had no end, and she was, oh, so delicious. He met the quiver under his roving hands when they grabed the panties and pulled it off with such a rush it made the delicacy he had shown in the bathroom seem like another reality.

Unwillingly mirroring his partner in sin, the Fox's thoughts were clouded by a singular need. After one last good-bye kiss on her nip, his lips traced a thousand stars on his way to the hollows of her already wet legs.

Without giving her time to protest, which didn't even graze her mind, he had his head between her thighs, and his mouth on a quest through the mythical fountain.

Saein, unlike him, made no effort to hold back any moan. Swimming in her sea, the demon was applying its art, covering with attention its sweet pearl and sending her to a place she had been reaching for a long time now.

All of her attempts of control were squashed, and all she could do was gather all her figments of focus to not come in the next second, and damn the volume she was showing instead. Nonetheless, she would not last long under the furrows of his goddamn - jesus, what the-, talented asshole - tongue against her.

Her thighs were resting on his shoulders as he applied himself with devorous passion. While his fingers reached for her nip, unable to forsake it, he sucked more of her honey in, exploring what trick made her tick, and finding many, many treasures.

Her hips arched in a convulsive movement, ravaged by a frenzy fire. Too fast, too much.

After everything, she didn't know if she could ride another after this. And Saein refused to end it this way. The moment she felt herself reach too high of a high, and felt him notice it and start driving her there, she swiftly escaped. The Slayer kicked him off and backed away.  

He looked at her in disbelief, as if she had taken away his food from him. Truth was, she kind of had. The Gumiho wiped the glistening on his chin and mouth off with a smirk.

"Who's afraid of losing control now?"

"Oh, shut up."

She had no time to argue with him.

To Yoongi's surprise, she climbed over him, making him stumble back on his butt, only managing to not be completely flatted down on the rug by stopping himself with his elbows.

The assignment became clear the moment she straddled his mostly naked body. With her palm on his chest, she pushed him back on the floor, forcing him to lie down. Saein barely gave him time to react than she angled her pelvis into his hard-on, one hand on his hipbone for balance.

They exchanged one meaningfull look before Saein impaled herself on him with a lustful swear.

His considerable width deliciously furrowed in her sensitive furnace, throwbing against her twitching walls, filling her up inches after inches until it could no more. Her eyes rolled all the way back when he reached that floor. His jaw snapped back.

For once, they were both in complete agreement of never admitting how they felt in this very moment. More intimate than ever, and yet refusing to even glance in the face of the other by fear of what they might find.

She started moving.

With an acute care now that she had fully grasped what she was working with, relaxing and merging into it, trying not to get overboard and melting into how he pressed against all the right spots already, spots that had been already teased beyond reason.

Maybe doing this minutes after grazing the orgasm was a mistake.

When she drew back, only to move back in, deeper, Yoongi let out a gasp that he stifled by biting his lip.

She felt too damn good. As if she was molded for him. Squishing his tender self to its paramount with no care in the world for how she was edging him to his end.

 It's a mess. In his chest. Between his thighs. In his head. An unstable assemblage of 'I want more' and 'get the fuck over yourself, Min Yoongi'.  And those ecstatic sighs she was letting out. And so was he.

He who thought he'd eat, is devoured.

All egos had melted away in the blazing of their desire that only rose, and rose, and rose. His hands gripped her waist. With a low moan, he accompanied her languorous movements, as her face contorted. As he lifted his pelvis and filled her up with a quick and strong thrust, as deep as she could take him, he watched her whimper under it with delight.

The last remnants of his decline slowly cracked as he let himself be swept away. She pressed, back and forth, taking her revenge. The only reason they both didn't immediately came was this competition on who would first.

Taking advantage of a second of weakness on her part, Yoongi reversed their positions and flipped her over on the rug. One hand planted on the floor by her head, he accelerating his desperate, raging thrusts. The longer he went on, the less suave he became. More aggressive. Relentless. On the next thrust, he leaned over her, swaying her finely crafted figure back, and kissed her in what ended in a bite.

It only took his teeth grapping over her bottom lip to let it all go in a tidal wave. The culmination of all her overheating senses curled her toes and sent her all the way to the seventh heaven. The sounds of pleasure pressed through her throat faster and faster. A litany of 'fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' escaped her as the dam she had been holding with all her strenght breached and crumbled her every defense.  

Above her, he was gripping his knuckles white on the low table as her pleasure morphed into blue energy, as if it was electricity, suddenly flew through his skin like a thunderbolt, knocking the air out of him. What she felt, he felt. With the acculmination of his own desire, there was no hope resisting anymore. All the ebullition that had built in him bursted into her welcoming heat. Yoongi poured himself with abandonment, ferosity and solace with only enough common sense not to crash down on her frame.

He collapsed at her side. His locks stuck on his sweaty forehead, his pants still around one ankle, and incredibly, extraordinarily full.

Her strength left her the moment the orgasm calmed down in what she could only describe as serenity. Her mind was free - no monsters, no end-of-the-world - nothing concerned her but the ecstasy over her sweaty body.

She could get used to this. 

For a while, they just stood there, on the soiled carpet, staring at the ceiling, while their breathing steadying themselves.

"So..., her voice brought him back, did it work?"

"Hmm?"

The Slayer turned her glowing face to him. He found the detail of the carpentry fascinating.

"Did you feed?"

 "Hm, hm," he confirmed. Oh, did he feed.

"Really? I didn't feel anything," she sounded disappointed. Saein perked up on a elbow to see him better. The Fox looked drained, delighted, although a little abashed, and still staring straight ahead of him. Flushed and human, but she wouldn't dare say that.

"Does it mean you're full?"

"I am," He smacked his lips with his tongue before slowly grinning.

"For now."