#i want to kiss their little deer faces once more in my life :(

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Wife!Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, jealous!alastor, soft comforting shower sex, knotting, alastor has a tail, consent, making out, soft kisses, biting, marking kink, alstor laps up the readers blood because he bites a liiiitle too hard, creampie, banter between alastor and lucifer, as well as banter between the reader and angel

☒ Word Count: 1,972

Alastor was quite the jealous type. 

You were his wife in life and death. To say he was protective of you was an understatement. So, it only made sense that Alastor would lose his composure when the ruler of hell himself arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. 

Lucifer was a rather charming man, but you were spoken for. So when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm, your hand yanked away in the blink of an eye. You could have sworn you heard a crackling growl escape your husband's lips as he watched Lucifer offer you a lustful gaze- and that was simply unacceptable. 

"I see you've met my wife!" Alastor let out a forced chuckle as he looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. You let out a sigh of relief. All thanks to your husband's rescue. Lucifer gave Alastor a pointed look before he blurted out, "You're joking... right?" He scoffed. 

Your face scrunched up in anger at Lucifer's rude remark. "Oh, he's as serious as a heart attack." You spat, snaking your own arm around Alastor's back. You squeezed his waist, a habit of yours that let your dear husband know when you were livid. 

"But- look at you! You're gorgeous, sweetheart, and he's just... freaky." You were about to snap back before your husband's maniacal laughter tore through the room. "Ha Ha! That's rich coming from the short stack!" Alastor quipped, grip tensing around your waist. Lucifer's chest puffed up in defense before he let out an airy laugh. 

"Aha! The height I lack up here, I surely make up for below the belt! Maybe I can show your wife sometime." Lucifer shot you a playful wink, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. Alastor tensed beside you before he let out another forced laugh, ducking low to get in Lucifer's face. "Ha Ha! Fuck you." Your husband spat, voice missing its usual radio static tone. 

Before the situation could escalate further, Charlie intervened. Pushing her father away from the tense atmosphere while mouthing a sympathetic "Sorry!" your way. The aura in the room was stiff. You could certainly cut the tension with a butter knife. "Damn, smiles! Looks like lil' Luci himself has got eyes for your girl!" Angel stated before taking a swig of his cocktail. 

You turned your head in Angel's direction. Shooting him a warning glare. The last thing you wanted was for Angel to get caught in the crossfire of your husband's anger. Alastor remained quiet before he slowly began walking toward the staircase. You could tell he was seething with how his ears twitched atop his head. Your husband flickered up the steps without a word, making you worry. 

"Damn it, Angel! You knew he was pissed enough as is, no need to poke the bear!" You sighed, rubbing your temples as you made your way over to the bar. Husk poured you a drink, shaking his head in agreement. "Dont'cha mean poke the deer?" Angel chuckled, patting your back in a lighthearted manner. Husk cursed under his breath at Angel's remark. 

"Cut that shit out, or he'll put you on his next fuckin' broadcast," Husk grumbled, cleaning a glass with a worn-down rag. You sipped your drink before rubbing your temples once more, shaking your head in annoyance. "I should probably go check in on him..." You spoke to yourself before turning on your heel, waving a small goodbye to your two good buddies. 

"She's in for a loooong night!" Angel giggled, causing Husk to flick his forehead as a warning to "Shut the fuck up."

You took a breath before carefully opening your shared bedroom door. "Darling?" You called out, descending further into the space as you scanned the room for your husband. You peacefully made steps toward your private bathroom, having heard the shower running from beyond the door. To your luck, the door was left unlocked, making it easy for you to slip inside. 

The bathroom was full of steam as your eyes trailed to the red tufts of hair reflecting through the clear glass shower door. Alastor heard you come in, but he still remained silent. Trying his best to cool off. He hated losing his composure more than anything. Carefully, you began ridding yourself of your garments, leaving your clothes in a pile beside Alastor's. You slid the glass door open, stepping into the shower with your husband. 

Alastor's ears were pinned against his head as he stood underneath the shower head, allowing the water to cascade down his face. His back was toward you. Your husband's hands were placed in front of him on the cold tiles. Keeping him stabilized. "Al, my love? Is it alright if I touch you?" You whispered softly from where you stood behind him. A moment passed before he nodded in agreement, still remaining silent. 

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him. Allowing your hands to caress his midsection all the way up his chest. You rested your head in between his shoulder blades, pressing your chest flush against his back. Alastor let out a deep sigh, your touch bringing him much-needed comfort. "That impudent man.." Your husband muttered, ears twitching in annoyance as he did so. You rubbed circles into his chest, placing gentle kisses against his back. 

"He's a jerk, Al. I'm all yours, forever and always," Your lips curled into a smile toward the end of your sentence as you felt his tail wagging, brushing against your lower tummy. Your husband's shoulders eased up from your words. He let out a breath before turning on his heel. Alastor's hands immediately cupped your face, doubling over to capture your lips with his. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands rubbing your husband's sides lovingly as your mouths molded perfectly against one another. 

Your shared embrace lasted a few beats longer before your husband pulled back, half-lidded crimson eyes gazing down at you. "Indeedy, my doe. You're all mine! I suppose I'll have to make it evident to the short stack... and anyone else who dares to court you." His voice dipped low; as did his wandering hands. Alastor's pointed nails dug into the back of your thighs as he hoisted you up. On instinct, your legs wrapped around his slender waist. 

A pleasant gasp escaped you as you felt your husband's hard length brush against your core. Alastor let out a deep growl against the nape of your neck as he nipped at the sensitive flesh there. "Alastor..." You whined. Tipping your head back so your husband could have better access. A shiver ran down your spine when your back collided with the cool tile walls. Alastor bit a little too harshly between the juncture of your throat and shoulder. 

A bit of blood trickled down your collarbone, but your husband was quick to lap it up. A deep groan from him sent a rush of heat down to your core. "Divine, my little doe. Absolutely delectable," Alastor mumbled against your sternum before one of his hands slipped between your bodies. He rubbed the flushed tip of his cock between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your slick. "May I, my darling?" Alastor whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he waited patiently for your approval.

"Yes, please..." You sighed, burying your hands into his soaked two-toned locks. Your husband slowly pushed himself past the tight ring of your pussy. Capturing your lips at the same time, drinking up all of your moans as he stretched you open. Your eyes rolled back into your head when Alastor bottomed out inside you. Slowly, you caressed his sensitive ears. Pride pooled in your chest when your husband twitched wildly inside you from the gesture. 

Your lips pulled back from his when Alastor began thrusting into you. His movements were sharp but shallow, not wanting to pull back more than he had to from the warmth of your pussy. Your husband's head fell forward, forehead resting flush against your shoulder. Alastor groaned against your damp skin as your walls clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. All you could do was moan in pleasure as your husband fucked into you perfectly. 

"Mine, all mine..." Alastor huffed out before suckling at the base of your neck. You could feel your husband's knot begin to swell inside you as your own release approached rapidly. Apsentmindly, Alastor's thumb dipped between your bodies. He rubbed at your clit expertly as he jackhammered up into you. Your legs tightened around his waist as the coil within your tummy was only moments from snapping. "I'm yours, all yours..." 

Your words sent Alastor over the edge. He moaned loudly into your neck as his hips stilled, emptying his load deep inside you. The feeling of your husband cumming inside you was enough to trigger your own orgasm. Alastor hissed as he felt your pussy gush around his cock, squeezing him like a vise. After a few moments, you felt Alastor's knot begin to deflate. Allowing his now softening cock to slip out of your inviting heat. "You truly are just darling. How did I get so lucky?" Alastor chuckled as he lifted his head to gaze into your eyes. 

A bashful smile crossed your features as Alastor slowly lowered your thighs from off his waist. Being sure to hold your hips, stabilizing your trembling legs. "Oh, hush! I'm the lucky one." You giggled, untangling your hands from his hair. Allowing your palms to cup his face, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. Alastor kept his eyes open as you kissed, admiring your lovely visage. After a moment, you pulled back, nuzzling your nose into his. "Now, let's get washed up before heading back out there, yeah?" 

Alastor and you emerged from the room a little while later. Meeting up with the group from where they gathered in the foyer. Charlie cheerfully waved you and your husband over, and you didn't miss the way Lucifer scowled at Alastor. "We were wondering where you lovebirds wandered off to," Vaggie stated, scooting over on the couch to allow you both to sit. Swiftly, Alastor sat on the sofa before pulling you into his lap. A smile etched into your face as your husband's arms looped around your frame, large palms caressing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard Lucifer grumble under his breath from the public display of affection. Your friends, on the other hand, had their jaws on the floor. Alastor rarely showed his physical admiration toward you in front of them. So, to say they were shocked was an understatement. "Told ya they snuck away to fuck! Look at her neck, haha- Husk! You owe me that hundred bucks," Angel blurted out. Laughing his ass off. Heat rushed to your face from your friend's crass words. Alastor, on the other hand, glared at Lucifer. His smile stretched from ear to ear as the ruler of hell fumed. 

"Angel-! Husk-?! You made a bet on whether or not Alastor and I would... ah, you fuckers!" Embarrassment flooded your entire being, hands darting up to cover your face. Alastor let out a loud chuckle from your adorable reaction. "No, toots. We're not the fuckers! You're the one who got fucked, aha!" You quickly got up from your spot atop Alastor's lap, storming over to Angel. "Husk, you're next!" You shouted, chasing Angel around the lobby. "Leave me out of this! That dumbass wouldn't shut up until I accepted the bet." Husk grumbled, not entertaining the bullshit. 

All the while, Alastor was giving Lucifer a sharp look with that shit-eating grin still illuminating his features. "As you can see, there's no need for you to show my wife your little chum below the belt. My darling is more than satisfied in my care!"

[shshshshshowrunner]

*staring at the ceiling*

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

BLINK TWICE ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩cecile believe — blink twice ♩

pairing: supe!rafe x reader

cw: theboys!au, hostage situation, guns, rafe is 6ft7 because of compound v lol, forceful-ish sex, fear, death (not reader)

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day six. better late than never!

you’d only ever seen ‘king kook’ on tv.

six-foot-seven feet of pure lean muscle and compound v. you didn’t invest yourself too much into the capitalism porn and multi millionaire industry that were supes, not enough to admire the beloved favourite himself anyway. but you can safely say, once or twice it had crossed your mind. him. king kook.

many things had crossed your mind, but not one of them had been the fact one day you might be in the hostage situation you currently were — sky high in a penthouse that didn’t belong to you. you were just the maid for christs sake, caught up in a crime that you’d rather be far from.

as you listen to the repetitive drum that was your captors shoes, pacing back and forth in only the next room, your wrists tied, you lean back against the wall and stare up at the fluorescent lights in the walk in closet you were being temporarily stored in.

you’d already tried to plead for your life, bravely call out to your captor and ask to be spared — but had only had been slapped, the cold kiss of a pistol being pressed to your forehead shortly after forcing you quickly back into submission. all you could do now, was either wait to be killed or wait to be saved.

then of course there was the sound of the front door swinging open without a care that had you tensing up. the police wouldn’t just bust in like that without a plan, could it be another accomplice? you’re proven wrong once more by the sound of your captors voice once more — urgent and pleading, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard prior, and yet was somewhat familiar.

“alright alright, quit with the cryin’ okay— got yourself into this mess i don’t wanna hear it.”

there’s a strangled sound, the patio glass down sliding open, a yelp — and then silence. whoever had come to save you, had just thrown your captor from the balcony. you’re frozen, praying you weren’t next.

“you uh— you in here? ‘can come out now, okay he’s… he’s gone.” the male voice sounds reluctant, like he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the aftermath and you push yourself to your feet — bravely peeping from the closet.

there in the hallway, stands the famous supe— king kook, in all his glory. you knew he was huge but he seemed to tower now, the light from the open patio door casting an angelic glow around him— something like you’d never seen before.

your knees feel weak, all shaky like a baby deer and he presses his lips together.

“you’re…”

“want a picture or something?” he itches his jaw and you shake your head. in that moment, he takes you in — eyes dragging down and then back up as he blinks, waiting for a response. you suddenly feel nude under his gaze, and you wonder if that’s a superpower of his. you blame the stupid little black dress your boss forces you to wear.

“no. thank you. thank you for saving me.” you tremble, braving a step closer.

usually, he’d shrug it off — ruin the sweet moment with a ‘well it’s my job, so.’ and head off — but he’d had a long day and you were his final save until he had to head back to the tower for daily debriefs. didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.

“yeah. he would have uh…” a grin spreads across his face and it feels cold, wrong for the moment. “he would have had your head on a stick.”

you feel queasy at the imagery but you’re distracted by the visage of the supe eyeing you once more. “do you drink?”

unsure as to how you got there, you stand at the kitchen counter with him now — still shaky. you figured with these things they’d come to have an ambulance check you over, make sure you’re okay, physically and mentally. but in this moment, there was no one coming. it was just you, and king kook.

you watch the muscles in his back contract as he faces away from you, unscrewing the cap to a bottle of expensive alcohol and pouring it into short glasses. when he faces you again, he’s charming — a coy smile leaving lines in his cheeks and focused eyes. it was never unheard of that he was handsome, you’re just noticing it now— close up and in person.

“get some of that in you, yeah?” he drawls, sliding the glass towards you, his fingers lingering on the rim— eyes on yours. “that shit should get you nice and relaxed.”

you take a sip, wincing at the sharp taste that burned your throat. whiskey — and you were never really a fan. but hey, it would be rude to decline. the supe chuckles at your reaction that you tried to hide, drinking his with ease.

“so what am i supposed to do now? do i need to report this to someone? i’ve never… been a hostage before.” your brow crinkles as your neck cranes to look up at him, the man suddenly closer than before, licking his lips like a malnourished alligator.

“uh, nah… no. you let me handle that, yeah? this was my save so… you report to me.” he tilts his head and you find yourself biting your lip. you want to scold yourself, but blame it on adrenaline instead.

“oh… well, i’m thankful for that.”

“yeah? how thankful.” he moves a little closer, and you feel tiny.

“hm?” all doe eyed and helpless, you practically feed it to him.

large hands find your hips, and to your surprise you’re spun to face away from him, the man leaning down so his hot breath invades the space between your neck and ear.

“you know i- i had a really long day. maybe we… figure something out, right? a way for you to pay me back.”

“how so?” you whimper.

it all happens so fast — one moment you’re being smooth talked, next moment your feet are dangling in the air, being used like a fleshlight. you’re grasping onto him now, flailing a little at the fact you were totally off the ground, the man effortlessly supporting your weight.

“fuckfuckfuck— yeah-haha, like that.” he strains, hips plapping violently against your ass as he fucks into you. no protection or anything, but somewhere in the back of your mind you figured supes couldn’t procreate like that.

“k—king m’gonna fall— gonna—mmph.” you sound deranged, like an animal even as you flop against him, letting him hammer you in the air.

“shh—shutup, a’ight? gonna — gonna let me have this… mmph… gonna be a grateful girl for me okay?” he grunts, adjusting his feet wider and closing his eyes to concentrate on the warm embrace of your snug cunt.

you suppose you were grateful, and whilst you were filled with shame — the least you could do would be to try and enjoy it.

[izukumidoriyanumber1]

Alastor's Soul Owner, Overlord Lover HC (FEMALE)

[Sfw+Nsfw]

-He loved the fact that you were in control of him at all times

-he was such a sadistic asshole that he would purposefully piss you off so youd pull that chain you had clasped to his neck. 

-he has and will get down on his knees for you

-hes actually fucking nuts

-Alastor loved pain, if only inflicted by you

-the two of you weren’t even technically together, he was just your lap dog

-but he loved it either way

-he loved when you called him ‘my little bitch’

-it really got him going

-alastor had pitched the idea of ‘helping’ out Charlie’s hotel, and you reluctantly agreed. 

-but you genuinely cared about him, truly. 

-take, for example, his with with Adam. 

-you were set to protect Charlie and help fight off the other exorcists, but you were worried about Alastor and his soon to be fight with the first man.

-Once Adam arrived byt the roof, you saw flashes of green and yellows and white as he fought. 

-but Adam sent a long, bright strike towards Alastor, and you felt yourself get weaker.

-once you reached the top of the hotel, you saw Alastor on his hands and knees, clutching his stomach with his broken staff in one hand.

-you gasped and sent a blow to adam that had him staggering for a minute. 

-you took alastor to his radio tower and gave him a stern talking to.

Your face was serious as you looked down at the panting deer demon. 

“Alastor, why didn’t you use your angelic weapon?”

He almost flinched at how stern your voice was.

“My dear, I-”

“You're too reckless, Alastor! You- you were almost killed!” your voice wavered a little, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

He was shocked. You beckoned him to you and retrieved the first aid from the wall. You wrapped his wound carefully in the thick gauze and gingerly buttoned his coat afterwards. Your hand lingered on his heaving chest before coming up to gently cup his face.

His breathing hitched and his eyes visibly softened. Alastor’s gaze held yours and you slowly crept closer, your eyes closing at the closeness. 

You rest your forehead against his, taking in his warmth. 

“I…I was worried about you, Alastor.”

His hand weakly came up to brush away a stray tear. 

“Don’t worry, my love. It won’t happen again.”

-after that, the two of you were closer. 

-closer, as in, like emotionally. I mean, you owned his soul, how much closer could you get?

-You were more affectionate to each other, more loving.

-Eventually, Alastor came up to you and got down on one knee, asking to take your hand in marriage. 

-I mean, the two of you had known each other for decades, you had practically spent a lifetime together.

-He had gotten a ring and all.

-It was done randomly in the newly built hotel, when everyone was conversing and hanging out in the lobby.

Alastor took your hand and lowered to the ground, looking up into your eyes with his glowing red ones. 

You gasped, both in shock and confusion. “Al…”

The rest of the staff turned and watched silently. 

“My love, I feel as though I’ve known you for my entire life. I’m aware this is awfully sudden but I fear you’ve taken my heart within your beautiful hands. I want to hold you, kiss you, and tell you everything will be alright as your husband. Will you marry me, my dear Y/n?”

“Yes, Alastor. Of course I’ll marry you!” 

He leapt forward and placed his lips on yours in a tender, loving kiss. The staff erupted in applause and cheers. 

“Get some, smiles!” Angel cheered, whistling.

Alastor pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 

Tears escaped your eyes and you summoned his golden contract, adorned with his very own signature, and handed it to him.

He looked at it with shock. 

“Really?” 

You nodded. 

He rolled it up and put it in his back pocket, before setting his microphone aside and playing fast paced swing jazz. Alastor took hold of your waist and dipped you low, kissing your lips.

-and then you danced. Everyone else in the hotel paired up and joined in.

-husker with angel, charlie with vaggie, lucifer (begrudgingly) with cherri, and Niffty with a stray egg boi.

-it was sweet, really.

-now, back to the headcanons.

-sex life!

-alastor would make you wait until after your wedding, but after that, it was free reign.

-he preferred missionary so he could see your face and kiss you while he fucked you, and also

-hes an old soul.

-his voice grows about 2 octaves deeper and the static grows but it only makes the experience more enjoyable.

-you’d always loved his voice, but this was your favorite version of alastor.

-his smile was more sultry and lazy than usual.

-if you read the pure hearted s/o hc, i said this as well.

-he looooves to see the bump made in the bottom of your stomach made by his thick lengthy cock. 

-he loves to fill you up with his cum especially if hes in a rut

-even though he cant, he loves to breed you and tell you how badly he wants to give you his children.

-but overall, his soul still remains yours but you gave him the freedom to be able to break that deal anytime he pleased.

-which he couldnt help but admire.

[targaryenluvs]

LITTLE OLD ME? / SAM WINCHESTER

PAIRINGS: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: With the prospect of leaving you to find his father, Sam finds himself running out of time to tell you just how much you mean to him. But do you feel the same? And who’ll confess first?

WORDCOUNT: 2.6K Words

WARNINGS: Pining, jealousy, clueless Sam, teasing, confessions, angst, fluff, kisses, dual pov, arguments, THESE KIDS ARE CLUELESS!!! Lazy writing from me so I used the script

A/N: Set in season one! He’s too cute, he’s so cute I might just faint 😫 I’ll have some dark Sam soon don’t worry I always balance the scales 😋 Me… writing fluff?? unheard of! No Jess slander here too she’s your friend :P italics = flashbacks/thoughts/exaggerations HAHAH I ACCIDENTALLY ADDED MY NAME IN IM GOING TO KMS I’ve changed it now 🤣

AO3 Link

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Sam had first met you at a party.

A friend of his had dragged him along, claiming that the College experience was not just about studying. Sam didn’t want to be there, but he also didn’t want to disappoint him.

He ended up letting his friend disperse, interacting with the people he knew. Sam knew no one at this party, it consisted of another schools students and a few familiar faces. He nodded at a few but found himself standing in a corner and trying to choose which assignment he was going to finish off when he got to his place.

Which is when he saw you, with one of the biggest smiles on your faces. And Sam couldn’t help but smile along with you. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know what on Earth was so funny, he wanted to smile because you were. It seemed like everyone circled you.

Your friend had noticed him staring your way about a minute ago, but didn’t want to be wrong. So she kept moving you around and dragging you to new people. Lo and behold, his eyes followed. Based on her check, he seemed sweet. He didn’t stare at your ass or your chest, just your face. He laughed and smiled when you did.

He seemed to admiring, and she liked it. Sam’s friend, Mason, returned to the room with a girl on his arm. She watched as Sam side hugged him once he returned.

Mutual friend? Check!

“If you drag me anywhere else my arm is going to fall off Jess!” The party seemingly faded away as you made eye contact with him, god was he cute. His gorgeous brown eyes and hair were more than enough to render you tongue-tied. Sam looked like a deer in headlights as he stared at you, why were you in front of him?

Had he been staring too long?

“Mace! There you are.” The two of them exchanged pleasantries, “Oh, this is my friend Y/n. Mason, Y/n.” Mason reached his hand out to you as you smiled at him. Sam found himself holding his breath, your smile is even bigger now.

He wanted you to smile his way, “This here is Sam! Sam, Y/n.” Jess and Mason shared the same idea as the three others watched as you smiled, “It’s nice to meet you Sam, you can just call me Y/n/n.” He snapped out of his daze and shook your hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty.

“Sam, I’m Sam. You know that, Mason told you. But uh, you can call me Sammy.” Masons eyebrows furrowed at the notion, he never called him Sammy. The girl on his arm tugged, “Let’s let these two get, acquainted.”

And that you did.

For the rest of the night, you may not have had as much to drink as the others, but you had one of the best nights of your life. You started off in the corner of the room, slowly getting to know eachother. The night led you outside, thumping music and shouts drowned out by the others presence.

Then somehow you ended up heading out for Ice Cream and then at the park. Sitting on swings and laughing at his awful jokes, you’d never felt more care-free. The night was full, and you were thankful.

He shone, if that made sense. Sam was a shot of espresso, and you were an addict. As cheesy as it sounds, you found him to bring color into your life. Your life wasn’t dreary and depressing, but it was boring. You found yourself going from class to your bed, the library, or working.

You had friends, yes, but not too many you could actually rely on if need be. That you trusted. And within one night, you found yourself pushing Sam to the top of that list.

Sam liked you from the get go, how could he not? With your infectious laughter and smile, kind eyes and understanding self. And you listened, with your whole body. You digested everything you heard and were full of empathy. He needed someone like you.

You’d been best friends since then, your first year of college. Best friends and undeniably in love with eachother. Not that the two of you ever noticed. It infuriated Jess and Mason to no end. The two of them saw it, every time you all hung out. The way Sam clung onto everything you said, as if it was Gospel.

The way your eyes practically glistened when he spoke or smiled. You looked up to eachother with so much emotion it hurt the soul. And the second the other was approached? All bets were off.

No man or woman in their mind continued to pursue you once they caught a glimpse of the huge, 6’5 giant behind you. Sometimes they’d keep going, but then he’d come up behind you with some stupid excuse to get you to go back to the table. And that person was left face to face with Sam and his unsettling smile, “You waiting for something?” A quick shake of the head and they were gone.

But it didn’t matter, whether or not you got together or not. You had eachothers backs at the end of the day, no matter what was going on. Even if you were fighting.

The night Sam’s life changed, you were drunk.

The two of you had an argument earlier on.

You ran your fingers through your hair as Sam followed you through the hallway of the apartment building, “Stop walking away from me!” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, “Stop telling me what to do!”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m trying to keep you safe Y/n/n.” His voice was softer now, and it pissed you off. How on Earth were you supposed to be angry with him when he looked like that. And then the eyes? Ugh!

“It seems like you’re always babying me Sam! I can go out with who I want to.” He sighed, taking a step closer he held onto your hands, “I’m not babying you, again, I just want to keep you safe.” You pursed your lips before crossing your arms, “What’s wrong with Ben?”

He’s a vampire.

“Y/n, please.” He was pleading, but you didn’t care.

“No! I never get a clear answer from you. Why don’t you want me to go out with him?” Your voice quivered as you waited for his response. You noticed his jaw clench, you could tell he was keeping his answer under wraps.

Is it because you like me?

“I- I-,” The words wouldn’t form in his mouth and he couldn’t find a decent answer.

“Good one Sam. I’m leaving.”

He watched as you entered the elevator, guilty eyes unwilling to meet his. He sighed as his head hung low, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Sam had been invited to go out that night, he turned it down. Jess had let him know which club the two of you had gone to, and kept him updated on whereabouts. If you needed a ride and he was out, it would take him about thirty minutes to get to you from his party.

A lot can happen in thirty minutes.

His phone ringing drew him out of the light sleep that he’d fallen under, “Hello?” The sleep in his voice was evident to Jess, “Hey Sam. It’s Y/n time.” He scoffed at the term whilst chucking on a jacket and grabbing his keys, “I’ll be there in 10.”

You hadn’t wanted to see Sam, which was what you’d told Jess, repeatedly. Even if it was most definitely not true. Sam and Jess had successfully stuffed your unconscious self into your car, you’d had Jess pick you up after the argument.

He’d been carrying you to his bed when you’d stirred, “I’m sorry. F-for fighting with you. Ben’s a bitch.” Sam laughed at your crude language as he laid you down on the your side of the bed. You’d claimed it the second he’d invited you over to his new place. “Glad to hear it Y/n/‘.” Sam settled on his knees, removing your heels.

“Sweetheart?” Hair fell in front of your face as you turned to face him, “Mhm?” He moved it behind your ear, “You okay if I change you?” A half-assed thumbs up and a lopsided smile was all you could muster. He knew you wouldn’t mind anyways. You’d told him on multiple occasions that you’d murder him if he let you sleep in your makeup too.

“Could you ever be friends with me if I always had run down make up slobbered over me all the time?” You both sat in front of the TV, chowing down on pizza. “I thought that was your usual look?” The pillow you threw his way had begun a pillow war.

He removed your dress before picking out a shirt of yours and boxers. Since it was your favourite combo. Sam smiled at the notion of you practically swamped by his clothes. Using the makeup wipes you had stashed in the bathroom, he gently cleaned your face before settling in for the night. You quickly turned over to bury into the side of your personal furnace.

Sam’s eyes shot open at the sound, it was darker than before, later in the night. You being settled into his side checked off the possibility of you rattling around in the kitchen for a midnight snack. Quickly checking it out he was met with his brother Dean after a tussle.

“Whoa, easy, tiger.” Sam glared at Dean whilst trying to catch his breath, “Dean?” He laughed at Sam, “You scared the crap outta me!” Dean grinned, “That's 'cause you're out of practice.”

Whether he was offended or annoyed, Sam took the opportunity. He grabbed Dean’s hand and managed to turn him and they ended up on the floor.

Dean groaned, “Or not.” Dean tapped him twice where Sam was holding him. “Get off of me.” A small smile came across the youngest Winchester’s face as he rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Brushing himself off he straightened up, “Well, I was looking for a beer.”

Dean placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders, shaking once, and letting go. Sam was understandably confused, “What the hell are you doing here?” The elder of the two relented, “Okay. All right. We gotta talk.”

“Uh, the phone?” Sam crossed his arms as Dean rolled his eyes, “If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?”

Fair point.

The murmurs and bumps were more than enough to wake you up. You made your way to the source before turning the light on. Cursing whatever Sam chose for you to wear, it was cold.

“Sammy?” Your voice was like honey to the two of them, Dean couldn’t help but look at you appreciatively whilst clocking onto the fact that you called him Sammy. The boxers, the bare legs and the cute tired look on your face.

Sam and Dean turned their heads in unison to the sweet voice, “Y/n/n. Hey. Dean, this is my gir— friend. Uh, best friend. Y/n.” Sam cringed internally at his words.

Your face was painted in confusion as your brain finally processed his words, “Wait, your brother Dean?”

You smiled as Sam nodded, you’d always wanted to meet him. Dean grinned at you and moved closer.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.” You stuttered at the prospect of being Sam’s girlfriend. But you weren’t in the mood to deny it unless he did.

“I—, we aren’t— ,” By a glimpse you could see Sam’s eyes staring straight into Dean’s head, “Alright, why don’t you back up a little Dean?” Sam spoke as Dean laughed, “Just let me put something on.” As you turned to go a voice stops you.

“No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.” You smiled at him, “Nice to meet you too Dean.”

“No.” Sam goes over to Y/n and put his arm around her, “No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her. She’s my best friend.” That’s how you two were, touch was never weird for you two. It’s why you were always mistaken for a couple.

Dean sighs, “Okay.” He turns to look at them both straight on, “Um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.” Sam nodded along, “So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.”

Dean ducked his head and looked back up at the couple in front of him.

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Sam expression didn’t change as he nods along. Y/n glanced up at him with a frown, “You never told me your Dad still hunts.” Sam’s lips pressed into a tight smile, “Y/n/n, excuse us. We have to go outside.” You nodded at him, “Can I borrow you, really quickly?”

Dean nodded as Sam smiled, “Of course.” Sitting down on the bed as Sam sat next to you, “If your dad’s missing then are you going to go look for him?” He didn’t know yet, he didn’t even know the whole story yet. “It depends I guess. Where he last was and what Dean tells me.”

“But what about Monday?” Sam couldn’t help but smile, of course you were worried about things that weren’t yours. “I’ll be back in time, I swear Y/n/n.”

He glanced over at you, your hands were in your lap as you smiled, “I know you haven’t told me what your dad hunts. But, I’ve seen your old diary.” His eyes immediately widened, “Y/n—,”

“I believe it, don’t worry. How can I not? I’ve watched my fair share of horror films and Buffy. Plus, my mum always used to tell me to keep an open mind to everything.” Sam had to take a second to grasp everything that had tumbled out from between your lips, “Wait— you knew?”

Your giggles were prominent, until it blew out into a laugh attack, “You should see your face! Of course I knew!” His eyebrows twisted as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t— what?” You grabbed his hands and clutched onto to them, “Baby, come on. All the random facts you always have, that one time you kept talking about the inaccuracies about Vampires. And then today,”

Sam’s face looked as if it had been drained or color, “If this is about—,”

“You sent an article that morning about Vampires and how they should actually be beheaded. And then a random story about them getting close to people abnormally quick. Which is exactly what happened with Ben. I got mad at you because I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

Sam sighed, “Well you can’t blame me for being cautious. And most people don’t handle the whole, ‘Ghosts are real’ bit that easily.”

“Well I’m not most people Sammy.”

“No, no you’re not. You’re better, you always have been Y/n.” The air in the room had apparently been drained, since you couldn’t breathe. Not with those gorgeous eyes staring down at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re not about to kiss me I give this interaction a minus 0 out of 10.” Sam scoffed, “So you’re rating me now?” You jokingly nodded as his hand was placed on your cheek before kissing you.

And God was it worth the wait.

As you pulled away you couldn’t believe you finally had him.

“100/10.”

“What an honour.”

You couldn’t help yourself as you kissed the tip of his nose, “Anything for something as cute as you.”

“Who, little old me?”

[selineram3421]

*escapes from homework* I finally have some time!

Alastor X Reader Small Oneshot

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ alcohol, cuddles, kisses(implied make out) ⚠

Drunk In Love🥂

You didn't drink alcohol all that often, only a bit during special occasions, but most of the time you were sober.

Alastor was the one who drank more, but it wasn't bothering in the slightest. He would only drink what he could handle, and when he was comfortable enough he'd drink till he was tipsy.

It didn't happen often but you were always nearby when it did.

Today was a normal one, nothing really happened in the hotel. It was its usual lack of guest, so the Princess called an early day.

Now you and the Radio Demon were back home, relaxing in the living room, Alastor sitting nearby the cellarette bar with a drink in his hand. You were on the couch, reading the encyclopedia of herbs that you managed to find deep in the library.

Too transfixed with the book, you didn't notice that the man in red had finished most of the bottle.

"Darling?", he called out, the glass in his hand making a sound as he set it down on top of the cellarette.

"Hm?", you hummed, not looking up from the book.

"Darliiiing~"

Now that's odd. You thought taking in the tone of his voice and looked up from your book, finding the deer demon's smile widen once you were looking at him.

"Come here my darling~", he holds out a hand for you, head tilted to the side a bit with a slight blush on his face. "I want to hold you."

He's..drunk? You close your book before slowly setting it down. No, almost there but not quite.

Standing up, you made your way over to him. Taking his outstretched hand, letting him guide you to sit down on his lap. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your neck. To get comfortable, you wrap an arm around his neck and rest the other on his chest.

"J’aime sentir ton corps contre le mien."

( I love feeling your body against mine. )

A blush forms on your face and you avert your eyes. "How much did you drink?", you ask, looking over at the bottle.

"Not too much.", he sighs out.

You shiver when feeling his breath on your neck. Holding your breath when feeling him smirk against your skin.

"Tu es si mignonne." (You're so adorable.)

"I'm not.", you mumble, earning a chuckle from him.

"You are.", he replies before kissing your neck.

Feeling your heart skip a beat as he kisses up your neck, you move the hand on his shoulder to the back of his head, encouraging him to continue.

"Mon amour." (My love.)

Kiss, on the pulse of your neck.

"Ma vie." (My life.)

Kiss, on the underside of your jaw.

"Mon cœur." (My heart.)

Kiss, behind your ear.

The smell from the alcohol was starting to get to you, but you really wanted a kiss.

"Alastor.", you pulled back, looking at his flushed face as he slowly blinked at you. "Please kiss me already."

"Of course.", he says and leans in.

Reciprocating the kiss, all is forgotten about the alcohol. It felt like you two were the only demons in Hell.

Maybe...you could get a little drunk.

In love, that is.

*gets dragged back into the depths of assignments* LET ME KNOW IF MY TRANSLATIONS ARE WRONG!!!

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @willowaudreykeyes @stolas-thebirb @kiraisastay @scary-noodlesblog @ducky-died-inside @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @+?

ML for Alastor���

[magneticallyyours]

Seeing how you are interested in writing Matrix pics, you won't mind writing some relationship headcanons for Neo (I love this hackerman so much)

Thanks btw!

Of course!! Sorry for the extremely late response, I die on this website quite often ;-;

I hope this is what you wanted, I did both red and bluepill Neo!

As you can probably tell after reading, I've never written headcanons in my life

✰✰ Neo relationship headcanons✰✰

->Bluepill

Neo would be too absorbed in his double life as a programmer and as Neo for a relationship, at the start. But then he met you.

It was nothing at first, but as time went on, he noticed you were always on his mind, one way or another. Being lectured by his boss, writing code? Anything? He wondered what you were up to. It drove him crazy.

He would try to deny his feelings. Definitely not the one to confess first. He'd sit around wallowing until you confessed, and even then he'd be like a deer caught in headlights.

If you weren't a hacker like him, he'd be more worried. Now he had to factor in his actions causing you harm, in some way.

Worry or no worry, that wouldn't change what he felt about you. He'd be attentive whenever you talked. He would ask about your day. If you were tired, he would rub your shoulders without hesitation.

He would almost always be the little spoon, unless you wanted it otherwise.

Sometimes he'd surprise you by renting movies to watch together at home. Blankets, microwave popcorn and snuggles should go without saying.

Once he warmed up to you, he’d be very needy. He'd love morning kisses and hugs. His love language? Words of affirmation.

Slowly, he would start taking better care of his clothes, hair, appearance to impress you.

He'd try his best to be a good partner, searching for “cute gifts for valentine's day” and the like because my man is CLUELESS.

His work being as it is, you might find him sleeping at his desk more often than not. He would be flustered in the morning, noticing the blanket you'd put on his shoulders.

Sometimes when you do that he wakes up. But he keeps his eyes closed anyway, just barely holding back a smile.

He'd be willing to learn and try new things, just for you.

->Redpill

Outside of the Matrix, Neo would more or less be just as loving as he was inside of it.

Only he'd be much, much more protective. He wouldn't want you to run into trouble. It was always an uneasy feeling he had.

He would train with you when he could manage it. Neo always learnt things from you, and taught you things in return.

Don't be surprised if you wake up and find him holding you tight, he'll be doing that a lot more now.

You're one of the many reasons he wants to end the war and save humanity, he would never want to see you hurt.

Whenever he slept, he slept with the hope that he could wake up to your face the next morning.

Forget being The One-

He wants to be the one for you more than anything.

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile IV

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Some angst with a little but of fluff. There is the mention of death but nothing really bad yet. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, it might be the last where the reader and Alastor are children. Next chapter, they might be around 16 or 17. Maybe I'll just drop some bonus scenarios when they are kids but we will see. Enjoy my deers!

You woke up with a tired yawn. You sat up, looking around. It wasn’t your bedroom… oh yes! You had a sleepover and it seemed like you fell asleep in Alastor’s bed. You hoped Marie wouldn’t be too angry, you did say you would go to her bed once you finished playing with her son. You looked next to you but Alastor’s spot was empty, there was only your plushie. You took him in your arms and smiled.

“ Did you sleep well ?” you stroke its fur before kissing the top of its head. You looked around and your eyes fell on Alastor’s microphone… You looked toward the closed door and then jumped off the bed, grabbing the microphone and holding it to your plushie’s mouth. You changed your voice a bit and spoke.

“ I have never slept better !” you nodded before giggling. You squeaked as you heard the door open to reveal Alastor who was staring at you with a teasing smile. You blushed and hid the microphone behind your back. He shook his head, still smiling and walked toward you before taking the microphone from your hand, his face close to yours.

“ I knew you would play with it.” you blinked at him, looking at his bed hair and couldn’t help but smile. He looked cute like this ! “ Eamon told me you were using the microphone.” You tilted your head.

“ Who ?”

“ Our deer. He needs a name, don’t you think?” he stroked your plushie’s head while mumbling “ even if he looks more like a fawn than a deer…” 

“ He is a deer ! I’m sure you never saw one !” you huffed as you squeezed Eamon against your chest. You quite liked the name, you were wondering if it had a meaning whatsoever… 

“ Actually, I did when Father took me hunting.” he tilted his head as he saw your horrified face. He looked perplexed as you took a step back.

“ You killed a deer ?”

“ No, I saw one. And most of them have brown fur, not like ours who have a white one.” 

“ But…  Why is your father taking you with him.. to hunt..?” you asked, confused. Your father also liked to hunt with other adults but he always said that it was a man’s pleasure! Why would Alastor’s father take him with him? Wasn’t Alastor a little too young ? You watched as Alastor smiled at you, teasingly.

“ It’s not for little girls, that’s for sure. You wouldn’t bear it.” He teased you.

“ Hey! I saw things too, I’m not a little girl!”

“ Like what? What did you see?” he asked you with an intense glint in his eyes. You huffed and lifted your face to his, staring him in the eyes. You looked around, as if someone could hear you then you went whispering in his ears, and you were kind of happy to see him eagerly tilting his head toward you.

“ My father tried to eat my mother one day.”

…

…

“ What ?!” he shouted as he stared at you with a big confused smile. You grinned as you nodded, proud of yourself to have made Alastor react so strongly. “ Why ? How ? What?” you laughed as he seemed so lost.

“ We will talk about it… In our next broadcast ! Stay tuned Alastor~ ” you kissed both his cheeks, more of habitude than anything, it was your way of saying hello now. You took as step back as he tried to grab your arm, it seemed like he didn’t want to wait. You laughed as you ran and jumped on his bed, as he tried to catch you. Unfortunately for him, you were faster and you managed to ran out of his bedroom, running into the kitchen where Marie was waiting for you with breakfast.

“ Good Morning mes chéries, I hope Alastor’s bed was comfortable?” she kissed you on both cheeks with a big grin before laying a plate of pancake in front of you. You nodded as you held your plushie on your knees. “ I guess, this is Eamon, right?” she asked.

“ Yes, Alastor named him.”

“ Did he now? This name means, if I remember correctly, “ Wealthy protector.” “ she smiled genuinely at you. Your eyes widened as you stared at Eamon with a big smile. Did it mean that Alastor saw your plushie as a real protector now? You giggled as you began to eat what Marie prepared for you. Alastor came down five minutes after, washed up. He sat next to you and you put Eamon on his knees, you will not tell him that you now knew the meaning of the name, maybe another time. 

“ Next time, we should have a sleepover at my house ! I could show you my room !” you smiled excitedly. Never once did Marie or Alastor come to your parent’s house. Strangely, Alastor furrowed his eyebrows as he smiled who seemed torn. 

“ I… I don’t like leaving my mother alone at home.”

“ But we will choose a day where your father is home!” you nudged him, trying to coat him to come with you at your house. “ Please Alastor… I really want you to come.” you pleaded as you held his forearms with your small hands. “ You don’t want to..?”

He jerked his head toward you with a twitching smile, staring at you. He seemed so torn at your idea. Did he really not want to come to your place? 

“ Don’t look so down dear, we will find a date for you to have a sleepover with Alastor at your place” she held her finger in front of Alastor as he opened his mouth “ and you know what, I’ll do a sleepover with your mother too ! Isn’t it a great idea?” she said with glee. You nodded eagerly and looked at Alastor who seemed less tense, you could even say he looked relaxed. Maybe he was a mommy boy and couldn’t leave his mother for more than a day?

You finished eating and went to the bathroom to wash yourself up. Once you were dressed up you went into Alastor’s bedroom who was already preparing your broadcast of the day. Your smile widens as you see Eamon sitting on a chair next to the microphone. You sat down and let Alastor begin the show.

“ Welcome New Orleans to a new broadcast! We have a new guest here, Eamon our fawn–”

“ Our deer!”

“--who will keep us company for today’s broadcast. Now, today our singer will tell us about how her father tried to eat her mother. What is this story about my dear?” he held the microphone to you and whispered into it.

“ It was during Christmas, I was getting ready to go to bed but I was really thirsty so I decided to go in the kitchen but I saw my daddy.. He had his head in my mother’s neck, her head was tilted back and… He bit her!” Alastor gasped as you continued your story “ I ran back in my bedroom and the next day, my mother had a scarf around her neck even though we were inside the house!”

“ Now that’s a story to tell ! What do you think of it,  Eamon?” he held the microphone to the plushie, both of you stayed silent for five seconds looking at the deer. “ Yes, me too, I have no words!” He said as you laughed at his jokes. You really loved hanging out with Alastor.

After hours of broadcasting, it was finally time to go home. You ran to your mother’s hug as she scrunched down to lift you up in the air. You laughed as you hugged her, you did miss her even if you did have a great time with Alastor.

“ Do you have everything sweetie? Where is Mister Deer?” she asked, looking around. Deep inside, you wished that you could take it back home, but Aalstor needed more than you. You were sure of it.

“ Mister Deer is now Eamon and he is staying with Alastor !” you claimed proudly. She tilted her head but didn’t ask any more questions. She kissed Marie goodbye as you hugged Alastor and you felt a pure sense of happiness as you felt him return your embrace. “ See you next weekend, Alastor! And Eamon, take care of him okay?” you whispered to Alastor’s ears “ and please… Take care of our Eamon, okay?” you waited for Alastor nod then smile” I’ll see you both soon, bye bye !” you waved them goodbye before leaving the house, almost tripping on Husker’ which made Alastor laugh.

You couldn’t wait for next week.

~~~

You couldn't wait anymore !

It’s been three weeks since you last saw Alastor ! You were making a scene in front of your mother as she told you that this weekend once again, you couldn’t go to Alastor’s house. You were crying, you have been such a good girl, each refusal you just accepted that you couldn’t go there but each week it was getting harder and harder. You stomped your foot on the floor even harder, not even hearing your mother who was trying to calm you down.  Your father shouted your name, making you gasp as you lift your head toward him. You weren’t used to him raising his voice to you like this. He kneeled down in front of you, wiping your tears, sighing.

“ Sweetheart, I know you are sad because you haven’t seen Alastor for almost a month. But… I saw his father and he told me they had a bad hunting session and Alastor was injured. You understand that he needs to rest, right?”

Alastor…was hurt? You blinked the tears in your eyes, staring at your father. It couldn’t be. You look at the floor as you felt and anger you haven’t ever felt. It was Alastor’s father’s fault. Why did he bring Alastor hunting in the first place? And what if Alastor was dea–

You fell on the floor, your mother hugging you against her chest. You couldn’t think, there was a big buzzing in your head, just like a radio static sound. Was Alastor really so badly hurt that he needed a whole month to recover ? You lifted your head toward your mother, pleading with your eyes. You needed to see him. You would make him smile, laugh, you would do anything for him to forget his pain. Your mother stared at you for a moment then sighed.

“ I’ll take you to him, I’m worried too. But hush, not a word to your father alright? We’ll go tomorrow.”

That night, when you went to bed, you prayed that Eamon would keep Alastor safe in his room.

~~~

You gripped the plate in your hands. You tried to make Jambalaya with your mother, it was Alastor’s favorite dish so maybe it would make him happy. You watched as your mother knocked on the door. Long seconds after, the door opened to reveal a tired Marie. She kissed you as usual with a, what seemed, a sad smile.  You didn’t even wait as your mother hugged her precious friend, you ran up the stairs, holding the plate against you.

You were going to see him, he was going to be okay, he was going to be alive, he was going to be in his room, you’ll play as usual, you’ll do your broadcast , he was going to make fun of you for being worried, he’ll tease you for crying, he’ll–

You opened the door which slammed against the wall. You were breathing hard as you looked inside the room. Where was he–

“ So unladylike. I could recognize your footsteps anywhere.”

You turned your head toward his bed, the voice coming from under the cover. You walked toward him, your frame trembling. 

“ I.. I made your favorite dish..” you whispered, your voice trembling with each word as you tried to speak out loud. His voice sounded weaker than usual. “ Can… Can I see you?”

“ No.”

“ Please…” you begged as tears began to form in your eyes. Why was he hiding from you? “ I was so worried… My father told me what happened–” You saw the cover flinched.

“ What did he tell you?”

“ That�� That you went hunting with your dad and–” you approached the bed and flinched when you felt his hand covering your eyes. You stood still, his hand was warm. He was here.. You felt tears streamed down your face. “ Because of your father you- you have been hurt.” you cried, holding his wrist with one of your hands, the other still holding his plate. “ Alastor, I was so scared..!”

“ Keep your eyes closed.”

You heard the cover falling on the floor as you felt him hugging you against his body. You kept your eyes closed as you finally relaxed. He was okay. He was alive. You furrowed your eyebrows as your felt something soft between you both–

“ It’s Eamon. He stayed with me.” he said as he hugged you tighter. “ I… I wanted to see you, you know. It’s not something I’m used to but… Yes, I wanted to see you.”

“ Are you hurting?”

“ No. Remember rules number two: I’m the strongest here.”

 You laughed as you sniffed. You tilted your head down and opened your eyes. Alastor didn’t want you to look at him but you could look at your deer. You gasped as you saw it. Your white plushie looked reddish? Some parts of its fur were pinkish, reddish? You sniffed once more, it smells metallic? What happened to him? You opened your mouth to ask Alastor but he did ask you to keep your eyes closed…

“ I want to see your face.”

You felt his body tensed but he didn’t say no. He took a step back but you kept your head down, waiting for his answer.

“ Be my guest.”

You’ve never lifted your head so quickly, you might have heard a crack. You stare at Alastor’s face. He was.. He was…

Completely normal.

“ But… but..”

“ You said you wanted to see my face, not my injuries.” he smiled cunningly at you while holding Eamon against his chest. 

“ Why do our deer have pink…red spots on him?” you tilted your head, stroking its fur.

“ I’m sorry. I bled on him.”

You looked up at him, he looked ashamed of himself. You stared at him… Did he keep Eamon against him while he was injured? You sat on the bed, next to him and kissed his cheek with the most care you could conjure. You felt him flinching but he didn’t move away. You kept your lips on his cheeks, you hand against his. 

“ I missed you.” you both said at the same time.

You both stayed together on the bed as you told him what happened in your life, even how you cried because you couldn’t see him. He smiled at you and teased you a little but squeezed your hand tighter. You ate the jambalaya you made, of course it wasn’t as good as Marie’s but Alastor didn’t say anything bad.

Before you knew it, it was time to go. Your mother was calling you from downstairs. You squeezed Alastor’s hand, ready to let go but to your surprise he stood up and went downstairs with you. Your mother smiled at him, saying she was happy to see him well. He nodded with his usual smile and then looked at you as both your mothers kept talking with each other.

“ I promise, I’ll see you soon.”

“ You promise? How do I know if you are going to be sick, or injured once again?”

He stared at you before smiling sweetly. 

“ Let’s make a deal.”

He approached his face close to yours and kissed your forehead. You blushed as your mothers were hiding their smiles behind their hands.

“ You always kiss me good morning, so now, I’ll kiss you goodbye. Now, you owe me a good morning kiss.” he smiled at you teasingly as he took a step back. “ Do we have a deal?”

You blushed but your smile was ten times bigger than usual. You squeezed his hand, never letting it go since you went downstairs.

“ Deal.”

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega

[darkuselesssomebody]

𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖'𝕤 - dark!raider!joel miller x reader

complete masterlist

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader wants a valentine's gift, but Joel's not exactly her boyfriend

a/n || i'm so shocked i haven't written dark!joel before?? i love him, your honor. also, for the raider!joel concept, though overall popular for fanfic, i was personally super inspired by @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark. they both have fantastic raider!joel content, please check them out!!

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider, please heed them, this may be triggering content!

➵ technically ooc to joel in the show, but his dark past is hinted at so yeah

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ !! reader is held captive and is experiencing stockholm syndrome. other women to which the same this is occurring are mentioned !!

➵ dubcon sex

➵ unprotected sex

➵ manhandling

➵ controlling dynamics

➵ slight degradation

“you have to do something for her.”

joel wonders how, as his younger brother, tommy always seemed to be nagging him, instead of the other way around. his face pinches in a scowl.

"the fuck i look like? cupid?" he growls back at his brother, rifle sagging on one of his shoulders, forcing him to readjust. tommy rolls his eyes.

"ya even have john and michael doin' somethin' special for their girls." he reminds joel how the other men in the group, with their own souvenirs, at least showed their consideration of the humanity of these girls on valentine's.

"she probably don't even know." joel grumbles, and tommy snorts.

"oh, she knows what valentine's is. the other girls told her. said she'd have liked some clothes."

"the fuck she need clothes for, ya sayin' i can't dress my girl?" joel, ever defensive, hates being talked down to by his little brother.

he hates more the fact that she seems to tell tommy so much more about herself than she does joel.

"y'can dress her, joel." tommy sighs. "but it won't hurt if she wears somethin' other than yer crusty flannels once in a while."

joel rolls his eyes, but he, luckily, doesn't have to entertain the rest of the conversation. a deer rustles the branches of a tree in the distance. joel's a better shot than his brother, always has been. but he's also less agile. as he's about to shoot, his foot crunches on a stick.

the shot still hits the deer's back, but it's a far cry from the headshot he was aiming for. he swears under his breath, but him and tommy are both already stalking the wounded prey, the same glow of determination and predation in their eyes.

they were still family, after all.

she used to never be able to sit still. pre-apocalypse, that meant she was always either fiddling with something, reading a book, or talking but... in the past few years, it meant a lot more silent stimulation. it was okay, she got by counting petals of flowers to herself or tracing the veins of leaves with her fingers to keep her mind occupied.

but the one thing she'd never given up was company. she'd had family, or friends, in every walk of this horrible turn of events, until 6 months ago.

when she was snatched away from her cruel life by an even crueler man. stripping her of autonomy and privacy were mild in comparison to her loss of company. the only other people in the house leered or jeered in her presence.

she was usually locked away from them anyways. in a tall tower she couldn't even use her hair to escape from; kept captive for the satisfaction and pleasure of a bad, bad man.

that's what made her head spin, though. because he wasn't always. yes, he was always sullen, and scowling, rough around the edges and calloused in his touch. but he wasn't always bad.

he'd fixed the bathtub of the house they were squatting in so she could revel in warmth if he wasn't around.

he risked his life for a new pack of cards and even a few books so she could keep her occupied.

and he would sometimes press gentle kisses to her forehead when he slept beside her, unbeknownst to himself, and without realizing the effect he had on her.

when the other men had started getting antsy about her being the only girl around (with her obvious off-limits status), joel relented and let them bring back their own. it was to avoid mutiny and maintain control, sure, but... it gave her company, too. and that was important to her.

the women would confide in her. first, of their fears and then, of their growing affections for their own men. it made her happy, vindicated.

she wasn't alone in her stockholm syndrome.

she's looking at the flowers that michael got for jessica. it's almost comical, with that kinda man and their kinda relationship. but jess liked it - really liked it - and that's all that mattered. john had promised anna something too, which she was talking about as the front door opened.

a dead deer was carried in by the miller brothers, and then some of the other men helped bring it out back to the shed, where they'd scavenge enough to feed the group for the week. as she always does, she approaches and stands in front of joel, greeting him in a low voice. he regards her with a once over, nodding, before his head tilts incrementally up, signalling to his bedroom.

she nods shyly, retreating to the room on the upper floor as joel delegates some tasks, before coming up to join her. she's looking out the window - barred, 'for her protection'- and he finally speaks up.

"what did ya do?" he asks gruffly, referring to the events in his absence.

"played some cards." she smiles softly as she faces him, "talked to anna and jessica." that makes him grimace a little, and she's confused.

"what about?" she shrugs.

"stuff. john and michael are gettin' them things, i guess?" she says it unsurely, "they say it's for 'valentines'?" she says the word curiously, as if wondering if it was something the 4 had made up, or if it was a real celebration. his grimace worsens: he hates when tommy's right. feigning innocence, he continues,

"what's that, then?" she looks at the floor shyly.

"like... a celebration? of... relationships, partners, that sorta thing." it's vague, but it's all she knows.

"huh." joel doesn't continue it further, and he goes silent, as he looks around the room to change out of his dirty clothes.

she sits on the bed, watching him move around, and with every passing moment of silence, her worry grows. did she say something wrong? was he mad? what happened?

when he finally goes to join her, he manhandles her to face away from him. that only makes her more upset, and she feels the prickle of tears in her eyes, as she lays down, and he joins her a moment later.

laying behind her as she feels a tear roll down her cheek, he doesn't realize how upset he's made her: he'd only asked her to turn around so he could fall asleep with the scent of her hair.

she wakes up after he's already left.

she sighs, rubbing her eyes, that always ended up a little inflamed after she cried. there's a little wetness on her pillow, and she flips it so joel doesn't see.

tommy's downstairs, having saved a fruit for her breakfast. she takes it gratefully, cutting it up and fiddling with the bite-sized pieces.

there's something on her mind - tommy, he notices these things. he wished his brother would, too.

"he's getting supplies." he assures her, knowing what was agitating her. she snaps out of it.

"hmm?" she pops a piece in her mouth, sweetness exploding on her tastebuds as she bites into it, "oh. right, yeah." she realizes what he's saying, "didn't he just get some?" tommy shrugs.

"he likes to go out to the abandoned mall - it clears his head." that makes her squirm.

"is he mad?" she mumbles, and tommy pats her shoulder.

"at you? never."

it wasn't exactly true, she thought. he's gotten mad before: if she talks too much to the others, when she doesn't listen to him, or when she finds herself in danger.

tommy knows joel's not mad in those moments. he's just terrified of what could possibly happen to his girl.

after finishing her fruit, she curls up under the blanket upstairs, wanting some time to herself. humming a melody - she thinks it's one that the guys will sing in an off-key fashion when they get particularly drunk - she tries to occupy herself by counting each of the little plaster bumps in the ceiling, and then all the small flowers on the dingy wallpaper of the room.

she gets to 78 when the door swings open. jolting awake, she makes eye contact with joel, who's looking down at her form under the covers.

"somethin' happen?" his voice is less gruff than usual, and she shakes her head.

"nope. just waiting." she gives him a weak, shaky smile. he doesn't return, but he doesn't click his tongue in annoyance, either. it's a win in her books.

he's got a backpack, and it looks pretty full. she wants to ask what's inside, but she knows he'll tell her if he wants to. he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. she scoots over so he has space.

"let me see you." he instructs, and she sits up, crawling out of the covers. sure enough, she's wearing one of his flannels for warmth, and had slipped into a pair of his boxers instead of her otherwise nonexistent pajama shorts. he's silent for a long moment, before he brings his fingers to examine the material. goddamn, was it old, frayed almost everywhere, and the chest pocket had a hole. he sighs, finally speaking, "comfy?"

she blinks, confused, "huh?"

"'re ya comf'rtable?" he repeats, voice gruffer. she lets out a nervous exhale. was it a trick?

"ye-yes. yeah, i'm comfy." she assure, and he hums.

"heard ya want somethin' new." he finally looks her in the eyes, something he doesn't do all that often. she shuts her eyes, cheeks heating in embarrassment and worry. dammit, tommy, she thinks, knowing the younger man had told joel about her offhand comment on clothes.

"it's fine, i'm happy with this." she splutters out quickly, hoping she won't upset him. he sees right though it though.

"yeah, yeah." he scoffs, waving a dismissive hand, as he gets up. her heart clenches, wondering if he was really angry, when he reaches for the backpack, throwing it at her.

it's not an aggressive throw, and lands on the mattress beside her.

"open it." he instructs, and she swallows thickly, unsure what to expect. the zipper is a little worn, but she eases it open... only to find not only clean but colorful clothes inside. she looks up at him in confusion.

"what...?" and for the first time in a while, there's just a hint of a smirk curling at his lips.

"go try 'em on." he encourages. giddily, she beams as she gets up, taking the bag of clothes into the cropped bedroom. he slumps back on the bed, trying to will away his fatigue. it'd been a hassle to collect all the clothes - more so, to find clean one he thought she'd like - so he leans back, waiting for her to return.

she lays out the clothes on the cramped sink counter space, starting with a simple pair of slightly flared jeans, pairing it with a light blue cropped cardigan. she goes out to show him, an obvious pep in her step.

he looks up as she enters, eyes trailing up and down her body, including the way the outfit fits her curves, and the slight glimpse of midriff.

"don't you look pretty?" he drawls, and, though it almost sounds sarcastic with his hard features, a light smile plays on her lips. she tries on 4 other outfits she could make out of the 10 articles of clothing he got her, and he seems to like each one even better. sure, he'd taken the initiative to ensure all of them were a little revealing - he deserved an eyeful for his hard work, after all - but she seemed genuinely happy, and the bright smile on her face almost rivals the cleavage that she shows off in some of the outfits.

when she shows him the final outfit, he pats the space on the bed next to him, and she obliges, sitting beside him.

"happy?" he finally murmurs, pulling her closer by the hem of her pants, and she nods excitedly.

"very." she assures, softening, "thank you." she doesn't need to clarify her sincerity, as it pours out in her tone. he caresses her cheek with his calloused thumb.

"good girl. you make sure to tell the girls." she almost laughs, knowing she'd show off the gift in the same way jess and anna have been with theirs. he wanted it to be known that fucking michael and john couldn't treat a better than he could, "got one more thing f'r you." he pulls her so she's standing, procuring two more pieces of small fabric from his pockets.

she inspects them, eyes widening a little when she realizes it's lingerie. he glances back at him, and he has a brazen and unashamed glint in his eyes. she's about to make a joke that this one seems more a gift for him than for her, but refrains, obliging with a small nod of her head, and taking it to the bathroom.

she strips out of her clothes, pulling up the lace fabric. the panties are practically a thong, shaping her ass nicely, while the bra enhances and perfects the curve of her tits, a small, red bow in between the cups, matching the bow on the hem of her panties.

she looks hot, and damn, is his taste good.

going back outside, a noise escapes his throat - like a guttural growl. he signals her to turn, and she does, giving her an ample view of her ass. he grabs her by the hips as she does, and she squeaks, as he pushes her down on the bed.

"oh!" she gasps, trying to sit up, but he's on top of her in a moment, mouthing at her neck roguishly, a sloppy trail left in his wake.

her skin erupts in goosebumps, but she knows better than to touch him when he gets like this - his need for dominance forbidding it. her hands grip the covers to ground herself, as his lips trail downwards, cheekily biting the bow of her bra, and taking a nip of her skin along with it. she moans, jolting, and he slaps her thigh - but gently. he's not meaning to hurt her - and trust her, she can tell when he is.

"stay still." he hisses, finally parting from her torso to marvel at her, "good lord, gonna fuck you in all this, sweetheart." he mumbles, more to himself than anything else, as his hands cup her breasts framed in the bra, squeezing softly so as to not damage the material.

usually, he'd revel in pushing her down to choke on his cock, and, when he was feeling more generous, he'd go down on her like a ravenous man.

but he was a simple man, who had been generous enough tonight. and he wasn't putting her in a position where he can't see her in the whole get-up, so the blowjob was out too.

fuck it, he thinks, reaching for the belt of his pants, i need her.

she gets up to help him undo his pants, but he forces her back into laying down, "wanna see you." he grumbles, finally undoing his pants. already hard, he palms his cock, eyes rolling back, "fuck."

he lowers again to shift the slit of the panties to the side, exposing her arousal, swiping his fingers through her mess, making her bite her lip. he wipes it gently on her cheek - a wholesome act, with a backdrop of degradation and depravity. he presses a soft hiss to the bow on her panties, making her shiver, before rising to his full length.

"you want it?" he grunts, as he strokes his cock, adjusting so it's lined up. she whimpers, as he's prolonging both of their suffering just to highlight her need for him. pathetically, she nods, and he laughs - barking and cold. "i can't hear you."

"yes!" she gasps out, unable to hold back anymore. he smirks in satisfaction, shifting his hips forward to bottom out in one stroke.

she cries out, eyes rolling back and head lolling onto the mattress, trying desperately to adjust to the stretch. he doesn't have that same decency, animalistically beginning to move his hips.

a squeal gets caught in her throat, and she cave to her instincts, gripping the wrist of the hand he's holding her waist with, squeezing as an indication of not her pain, but her pleasure.

thankfully, the adjustment was quick, and her surprised squeaks morph into pleasured moans, as he grunts on top of her, eyes raking the way that her tits try to bounce in the confinement of the bra. unusually, he's not annoyed by her touch, and it only makes him move more aggressively, as he can tell what makes her pleasure increase - as she'll squeeze his wrist harder.

"who's making ya feel this good?" he growls, "who takes care f'ya, sweetheart?" she chokes, garbled, broken moans escaping her.

"y-you!" she manages to gasp out, "o-only you, no one else, you - you take care of - of - oh, fuck!" she squeaks, feeling the pressure of her orgasm, "gonna - can i please - please-?!" she begs nonsensically, but he understands her - of course he does. she's his girl, after all.

"cum, sweetheart." he assures through gritted teeth, "who's making you cum?"

"y-you-" she cuts herself off with a cry as she cums, body stilling and legs trembling, as he continues to thrust and she rides out the orgasm.

he follows right after her, the squeeze of her cunt around sending his body into overdrive. collapsing on the bed beside her, the two remain silent for a minute to catch their breath.

finally, he clears his throat, getting up, and pulling her up, too. "go, clean up." he instructs, voice less gruff and softer, asking her to do something for her own good as opposed to his, "then change. don't think i can do another round right now." he knows that if he sees her in the outfit for longer, he'd get hard again.

with a woozy head, she does as he says. when she changes, though, she decides against the clothes that he bought her. she loves them, of course, but their either too coarse or flashy for night-time wear.

besides, they don't provide the precise comfort of stability that the flannel and boxers she puts on again does. though she tells herself she's not sure why joel's clothes seem more comforting than the new clothes, she's lying.

she feels more comfy in them because they smell and feel like him.

he's already knocked out when she exits, sleeping on his side, having evidently left the perfect amount of space for her to curl into his side, pulling his arm over to cradle her.

she knew he would always take care of her.

[jarofstyles]

22 ☹️

SCREEEECH yes bc I love drunkrry and it fits in my brain. Here’s a baby blurb

Numbers for the prompts

Patreon

----

Y/N was trying hard to pay attention to the uber location on her phone, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that was not going to happen.

Not if a large, giggly, drunk man with unsteady, gangly limbs wrapped up around her like a life support had anything to do about it.

"Baby. Babyyyyyy." A honest and true whine came from her boyfriend's mouth, fingers squeezing her sides and somehow burrowing his face closer into her neck. "S'enough. The car will- it'll come when it comes. I want y'to hug me back." If he wasn't attached to her, she was positive he would have stomped his foot on the sidewalk.

It was cold out, his arms underneath the jacket she had stolen from his closet earlier. His fingers had wiggled their way under her shirt and tucked under her waistband. He was being cheeky, hands on her ass under the safety of the jacket and holding the bare skin but he didn't make a move to go further. Normal clingy Harry had absolutely nothing on drunk, clingy Harry.

"I just want to be sure I'm paying attention, H." She laughed, tucking the phone into her jacket pocket. He was for sure gone, giggly and stumbly like a baby deer. Harry rarely got drunk drunk, but each time amused her more than the last. Her boyfriend was always a bit goofy and silly, but introduce alcohol it could go a few different ways. So far she had seen comedian Harry, professor of aquatic pets Harry (He watched online videos), Business mogul Harry (telling someone at the bar the deal was bad, all while not knowing a thing about the business- he was convincing), Historian Harry, DJ Harry, the list goes on. This had to be her favorite, though.

Harry just liked being loved on. Giving love, receiving it, but especially from her. When he spoke, he would make sure she was looking or listening, pouty when someone else had her eyes or ears. Once he passed the tipsy line, he was a bit of a cute little menace.

"Jus' give me a cuddle. Please?" He mewled. "I'm cold and tired and I wanna go home, but I want to cuddle." there was a pause. "Hey, when the car comes, you should sit on my lap. It'll be warmer."

"Not safe, Darling." She cooed, not wanting to upset him. He tended to cry easier in this state. "We can cuddle in bed when we get home. You need to brush you teeth and change." A shower was not going to happen, simply because she knew the moment she got in there to hold him steady he would try to grope her and insist they should do at least 'hand stuff.'

"You're no fun." He huffed, though his demeanor changed once she laid her head on his chest and hooked her arms around him, mirroring him by tucking them under his coat. Thankfully her boyfriend was a furnace. "Fine. We can cuddle at home. And kiss." The last part snuck in must have seemed smooth to her, but she could almost hear his though process.

"Alright, H. After you drink some water and brush those teeth. Can't lose the bunny teeth from rot, can we?"

"Nope." He popped the P, tugging her closer. "We won't." The words muffled as he hid his face back in her neck, one hand abandoning her ass to tuck her head right in the same place on him. "Not gonna lose any teeth annnnnd we're going to cuddle. And kiss. And maybe do hand stuff." The last not so slick add in made her bite him through his shirt lightly, making him whine.

"No. Too bad, drunky pants. Nothing until you're stone cold sober. Y'know the rules." Her stern words were ruined by how cute he was, the wet little pout making her sigh before placing a chaste peck to him. It seemed to perk him up well enough.

"Yeah... You're right. Kay. We will canoodle and do hand stuff in the morning."

[thebadboyfanclub]

It Is Time (Daemon x Reader)

This is probably the softest imagine I have written and it was so much fun. I was listening to line without a hook so you get the vibe I was going for.

To be married into the Targaryen was considered a chance of a lifetime for most, however a marriage with the princess of the Summer Islands was a miracle, when (y/n)s father send the raven of her being open to wedlock Jahaerys was the first to respond, offering Daemon as a suitable husband, to align such foreign force was a must for the Targaryens, Daemon at first had retaliated, denying to part take in a loveless marriage with a woman he had never seen to just be a pawn of the king.

That quickly changed when (y/n) visited kings landing, “The diamond of the Summer islands” she was known for her bewitching nature, as she walked next to her father like she owned the place Daemon swallowed thickly at what his eyes were experiencing, it looked like she was a mystical fairy merely flowing instead of using her feet, she was a different type of beauty, a thicker frame with tanned dark skin from the place of endless summer, tall frame and curly hair, her eyes resembled that of a fox, full of mischief and secrets. The daughter of house Truefyre had brought Daemon to his knees with a single glance, once he greeted her and got a hold of her hand he felt shivers down his spine.

“It was the first time I felt like the Gods smiled down at me”

Their wedding was the talk of Westeros, (y/n) and Daemon danced the night away, whispers a of a the union growing strong took over as Daemon was seen tending to his lady wife in every way, shape and form, he was put under a spell that he never wanted to break free from.

“What is it my diamond?”

“I haven’t… bled”

“Oh…. Oh!”

Realisation hit daemon like a stone in the head, Daemon and (y/n) had been every affectionate with one another, Daemon would always have a hand touching (y/n) and there have been rumours of Daemon letting his hand slip in more inappropriate parts, how could he resist? His lady wife was the most perfect creature, his precious diamond that he held close in hopes to protect her forever.

Daemon was not a man of exaggerating declares of happiness, at the news of his wife being with his child he simply smiled and placed a kissed on her forehead before kneeling to be in the same height as her belly.

“I cannot wait to meet you little one”

(Y/n) had wished to reside to the Summer islands, away from duties and pointless dinner with backstabbing lords that would arse kiss in front of her face, her father was gracious enough to offer a castle right next to the sea shore as her wedding gift, Daemon could not deny his love such joy, he also secretly wanted to have a quiet life with his family.

As the morrows came and went (y/n) was changing by the hour, her lady nature kicked in with impeccable strength, compelling the princess to shed tears at the sight of a cat playing with her kittens, her hand was always caressing her growing belly as she sang to the babe while sitting in a swing located in a beautiful orange tree, the breeze passing through her as she rested in the shade and enjoyed the sounds of nature.

“The princess requested for deer meat with… peach jam”

Daemon found himself giving her strange requests to the cooks more than he liked to admit, it was almost a daily ritual for her to wake up in all hours of the night and beg her husband for stuff like plum juice and oysters, strawberry cake and beef meat, he would sometimes think her cravings were the reason of her sickness, although he was smarter than uttering his concern, he would simply nod and go searching for whatever she had asked for.

“I have gotten fat”

“You are with child”

“I am fat with child”

Daemon took in the scene of his wife standing as she watched herself in the mirror, she had gotten bigger as time went on but that was normal for her journey in motherhood. He had been reading a book in his bed when he puffed out a breath and stood up to approach her, (y/n) quickly went to wrap herself with her silk rob yet Daemon stopped her, on her vanity she had an open jar of cream that she would often run her belly with, it soothed her from the itching. Daemon took a small amount and gently went over the stretched skin with care.

“You are a mother, a beautiful woman that is strong enough to carry a child in her with such grace that you make it seem easy, I look at you and I see the world in those dark hues of yours”

“You are going to make me cry”

“I am going to make you happy and when the time comes and our baby is born I will be sure to let them know how infuriatingly gorgeous their mother was when you were carrying them”

“I hope it is a girl”

“I pray that it is healthy, now it is time you rest and no more talking down on your figure, the mother of my child will never be disrespected like that”

Daemon had been (y/n)s shadow, making sure she had everything her heart desires and was happy until she laid next to him with a grin, it was the only way Daemon could drift off, he wouldn’t be able to even sleep for an hour if he wasn’t certain his wife was unwell, especially now that she was risking her life for the birth of their child.

“Daemon, Daemon wake up”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It is time”

“Oh seven hells, I’ll summon the maester”

“No, no, take me to the ocean”

“(Y/n) it is not the time to swim”

“Daemon for the love of everything that is holy, take me to the fucking ocean”

Daemon was smart enough to understand there was no room for him to protest and not to even negotiate about it, he simply took his dear wife gently in his arms as she grunted and moaned and safely let her feel the coldness of the ocean waves. (Y/n) was overcome by a sense of relief from her muscles as the water soothed the ache, washing it away with each wave, her back resting against a rock with her legs spread wide open to give the babe access.

“Now may I call the maester?”

“No, I don’t want them here”

“Why?”

“I want you to be the first one to hold it, not a bunch of people who will let me know the gender before the status of the babes health”

Daemon empathised with his love, wet nurses and maesters were known for not quite caring of anyone’s health, only to deliver the next heir of the Targaryen bloodline.

Daemon nodded mostly to himself before he kneeled so he can take a proper look and guide his wife as much as he could.

“Now I am not trained for this but I’ll do my best”

“It’s alright my sweet, I just need you to hold it when it gets here”

(Y/n) was doing a wonderful job during the entire labour, if Daemon did not know any better he would say (y/n) had gotten through labour a thousand of times, the sound of the ocean calmed her nerves and the cold water seemed to come in to use as beats of sweat appeared on her forehead, she would often ask Daemon to splash her in the face or her chest.

“Here we go my diamond, just a little more”

It had been the wee hours of the morning until the babe was released from her, relief washed over her as her legs could finally spread flat and rest. Daemon caught the babe that was greeted by the ocean first before it was finally secure in their fathers arms, the beautiful little star cried while Daemon cut the cord with his dagger.

“Is the babe alright?”

“The dragon is as strong as her mother”

“Her? A girl?”

“Indeed”

“Give her to me”

Daemon silently complied, passing the fragile little girl in her mothers arms. (Y/n) had never felt more accomplished before, she delivered her daughter right as she wished, with her husband and with the strength of the ocean.

In her land the sea goddess was also the goddess of fertility, frequently plenty of couples would bring their babes to the shore and let the water caress the babes skin as a thank you to the goddess for allowing them to expand their families, to be able to give birth right in the goddesses home was a dream for a plethora of women.

“How about Ariel?”

“An unusual name for a Targaryen, what will your dear family say?”

“I couldn’t give two shits about them, you and our precious Ariel are the beginning and the end for me”

“you have become such a poet my prince”

“How could I not? dear (y/n) you have turned my life to a living fairytale”

“Help me up please”

Daemon allowed his wife to carry the small child while he carried her, the maester along with the servants were waiting for the couples arrival back to the castle, they were aware of how sacred this moment had been for them and watched from the sidelines, praying that everything would go smoothly.

“Behold (y/n) of House Truefyre and our first born, Ariel Targaryen”

(Y/n) only giggled as Daemon puffed out his chest with pride and carried her to their chamber while all the servants beamed with joy.

“I believe we should take the babe for a bath”

“No maester Gerald I will do it”

“As you wish princess”

“My love, you should rest”

“I would rather be Caraxes next meal than allow someone else experience her first milestones instead of us”

Daemon only leaned to peck his wives lips with the utmost adoration, his diamond was meant to become a mother and he felt a certain sense of honour that she chose him to share her future with.

The servants prepared the bath for little Ariel while (y/n) and Daemon kneeled, the babes first sensation was the ocean so Ariel was peaceful as the warm water was gently washing away the salt of the waves.

“She will be a strong dragon rider, like you”

“Or a graceful princess of the summer islands, like you”

(Y/n) leaned closer to her husband as a way to express her emotions to him. It was Daemons turn to smile at her, (y/n) was everything Daemon never thought he deserved in life, sometimes he would think what would his life be if he had not married her, and the result was just grim and cold.

“We should call the wet nurses my sweet, Ariel will need to feed in a while”

“Wet nurses? Daemon this is not kings landing, we feed our babes here”

He would never imagine he could love his wife more, that is until he was part of the moment (y/n) fed Ariel, such a sacred ritual and bond with mother and daughter. (Y/n) laid comfortably in their bed after she had a scorching hot bath with her favourite scented soap which was lily flowers, Daemon had even braided her wet hair so it will be out of her face and make her feel pretty.

(Y/n) hummed a tune to their little princess, light beaming through the windows on this glorious day and their babe healthy and already loved tremendously suckling on its mothers breast, (y/n) could almost feel the women of her bloodline gather around them and bless the babe with their hands on her shoulders, resilient women who suffered through months of pain, swelling, restless nights, broke their hips for the birth, even produced milk for their children to feed, Daemon had been a warrior who had taken plenty of life’s, his wife was a warrior who created a life.

“It is time for you to rest”

“No, I don’t want to take my eyes off of her, I want to watch her breathe”

“Alright, I’ll sit right by you with Ariel as you sleep, I will watch her for you. Do you trust me with that?”

“I suppose”

Daemon did as such, sitting up in their bed holding the princess while (y/n) got comfortable with her pillow, her eyelids were already heavy but she still fought, Daemon rocking the babe without even realising how bright he was smiling at his daughter was such a gorgeous sight to miss, they were not just husband and wife now, nor prince and princess of anything, they were mother and father, parents that would offer their life for their daughter, a bond made by passion and kept by devotion and love.

She drifted off to sleep with the sound of her daughter cooing at her father, praying that her body won’t be in need of countless hours of sleep, since she looked forward to waking up and be fully capable of holding her daughter again.

Requests are open

[mariaofdoranelle]

Stage Kiss

Written for Throne of Glass Microfics

This accidentally ended up the size of two microfics but I’m tagging you if you’ll still have me @throneofglassmicrofics

Prompts: mainly indulge but I ended up using mayhem too

Warning: teenagers

Words: 1,9k 🫣

1st run

Today, at 3:30 p.m., Rowan would kiss Aelin Galathynius on the cheek.

Pathetically enough, this little knowledge was on the forefront of his mind all day. Not his classes, no. Just Aelin’s ivory—occasionally rosy—cheek.

“Whitethorn!” Fenrys shouted in the hallway several steps behind, forcing him to turn and stop so his friend could catch up. “Looking good,” Fen said, playfully slapping the back of his hand against Rowan’s bicep.

Rowan rolled his eyes. He thought that going to the gym every day—plus taking supplements behind his mom’s back—would magically make him more confident. It didn’t. The only difference was that he looked slightly less thin, so now Fenrys occasionally catcalls him and reacts to his IG stories with the flame emoji.

Even worse, Remelle Wiselheade was now hitting on him. His plan to get Aelin’s attention absolutely backfired.

As if he was a mind-reader, Fenrys said, “And how does it feel to be Aelin’s husband?”

Rowan blinked. “Uh…”

“I mean in the play!” Fenrys threw his head back and cackled, then urged them towards the school theater. “Bro, you’re—“

“I obviously knew that!” Rowan said, defensive.

He was just taking theater classes because his mom thought it’d help him with the shyness. But Aelin? Aelin Galathynius could give Margot Robbie a good run for her money—in both talent and beauty.

If enduring his crush on her during classes wasn’t enough, they were acting as husband and wife for this play.

And it required him to kiss her on the cheek.

He was glad that Mr. Emrys, their drama teacher, had a no-kids-kissing-on-stage policy. Rowan was half a lip virgin—that thing with Lyria didn’t count—and while having an almost first kiss with Aelin would’ve been great, he wasn’t looking forward to a very public cardiovascular malfunction.

Once inside, he quickly found her by a wall with Nehemia. Aelin didn’t see him at first, but he slowed his pace to look at her better, making Fenrys—who was right behind him—trip and take Rowan down with him. Not down, since both recovered before falling face-first on the floor, but the whole thing was loud enough that now he had Aelin’s attention. At the worst moment imaginable.

She smiled at him and sent a tiny wave, and by the poorly hidden smirk on Nehemia’s face—very similar to Fenrys’—she must’ve figured out his crush on Aelin. She had to. Nehemia Ytger was one of the smartest people he knew, he just hoped she’d keep her mouth shut for now.

Once everyone gathered around Mr. Emrys and he gave them directions for today, the first rehearsal for Hamlet began.

It passed like a blur until the scene arrived.

[Modified Act 1, Scene 2]

The court gathers. Claudius stands before the throne—simple practice chairs, actually—with Gertrude at his side. Hamlet watches from a distance, looking somber and disapproving.

Rowan didn’t want to read too much into why he learned even the narration. He turned to his “court” and said:

Though my dear brother’s death is fresh in memory, we must also move forward.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Gently holding Aelin’s hand, Rowan swallowed and almost froze when it was time, but her encouraging smile propelled him further.

He might’ve just dipped in and out, but feeling her skin under his lips was the quickest yet longest second of his life.

His cheek kiss was followed by deafening silence. For a second Rowan thought he’d embarrassed himself somehow, until he found everyone staring at Fenrys, waiting for Hamlet.

His friend looked like a deer in the headlights.

“I forgot.”

“A little more than kin, and less than kind, Moonbeam.” Mr. Emrys took a calming breath. “Let’s do another run of this scene, shall we?”

2nd run

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Rowan took Aelin’s hand again. Both experience and her open expression made him kiss her cheek more confidently this time, and he was calm enough to enjoy the moment.

The same awkward silence again.

“Mr. E, I have ADHD,” Fenrys protested, though the twitch in the corners of his mouth betrayed the seriousness. “Don’t you think it’s a bit fascist of you to make me learn all these lines in medieval?”

It’s called ‘Early Modern Common Tongue’, Moonbeam. You’ll learn with practice.” Mr. Emrys settled back into his seat. “Let’s do another run.”

4th run

By now, Rowan was very well practiced in kissing Aelin’s cheek.

Because of the political nature of their characters’ marriage, a greater actor would make Claudius give Gertrude a triumphant look rather than a fond one, but if Mr. Emrys wanted a great actor, he should’ve thought twice before casting Rowan.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

As practiced, he reverently took Aelin’s hand and leaned in for the cheek kiss.

But she turned her head. The spot on her cheek that he focused on became a blur, and before he could grasp the situation, he felt the softness of her lips in his.

An awkward miscalculation on her part.

Or was it?

The way Rowan jerked back in surprise made their peck quicker than the other kisses.

“Whitethorn!” Mr. Emrys called, one finger pointed at him. “That was supposed to be on the cheek, mister.”

He froze, glancing wide-eyed between the teacher and Aelin’s mischievous look. He could protest and clarify that she was the one to incite the kiss, but that would just be loser—worse, virgin—behavior.

Rowan may be both, but he sure wasn’t acting like it.

With the snickers that came from the students, their teacher’s stance relaxed. He slowly shook his head and muttered, “Teenagers,” as a chuckle escaped him.

5th run

Rowan was determined to return Aelin’s peck, which meant that now stakes were higher. This time, he was even more nervous than before the rehearsal started.

She is cute. Rowan really likes her. And she kissed him first.

And this self-pep talk was shit at calming him down.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Instead of holding her hand, Rowan held her jaw instead. By their silent exchange, she had an inkling of what was coming, and her expression seemed welcoming. A quick brush of his thumb as another warning, and he leaned in.

Pillowy soft lips briefly against his was a brief shoot to the skies and back.

It was quick. It was glorious. The sweet, sticky feel of her lipgloss was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“A little more than kind, and—“

“Gods, Fenrys, it’s kin!” Nehemia shouted from the sidelines, distracting the teacher enough to forget about the kiss.

After this, Mr. Emrys stopped complaining—he had bigger battles to fight.

7th run

After their third kiss—plus four on the cheek—Rowan began to wonder if it was too soon for a “What are we?” conversation.

Maybe he should ask her out.

Scratch that, he was absolutely asking her out. If he got rejected, life would go on—after he changed schools.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Rowan stroke her cheek with his thumb and leaned in once again for their peck, but once he did, Aelin threaded her fingers through his hair and kept him there, tilted her head. She waited a second for his response, then retreated once it didn’t come.

Shit. Was this—

With hawk-like speed, Rowan grasped her face with both hands before she could draw back and… well, it was too much of a whirlwind inside his head to make sense of what was going on. All he knew was exploring tongues and her hands on his neck and his heart that threatened to leap out of his throat to interrupt the kiss.

He couldn’t believe he was kissing Aelin Galathynius, and she felt so soft. Soft lips, soft skin, a soft sigh that he felt in areas he’d rather forget to not embarrass himself.

“A little more than kin, and—HOLY SHIT”

The absolute silence turned into mayhem once Fenrys abruptly addressed what was going on. Once he did, the students howled and whistled at them.

However, the only reaction he cared about was Aelin’s, who stared at him with flushed cheeks and wide turquoise eyes that sparkled with something he couldn’t quite place. She giggled and hid it behind her hand, and the sight of her nervous excitement brought a funny feeling to his stomach.

“Okay, that’s enough,” their teacher said to interrupt everyone’s shouts and cheers. “Moonbeam, you’ll arrive with your lines fully memorized next time—this is not a request. Everyone’s dismissed except for Whitethorn and Galathynius.”

The mood immediately sobered as students grabbed their things between whispers. It didn’t affect him like people thought it would, though. Rowan had just kissed Aelin—with tongue. Mr. Emrys could put him in detention ‘til eternity, he didn’t give a fuck.

They got ready to leave along with everyone else, but gathered around the chair their teacher was still on once the theater was empty.

A twitch of Mr. Emry’s lips into a firm line told them he was trying to get into ‘stern teacher’ mode. He’s not really the authoritative type, but they broke the rules, and it was in the job description that he plays a role for discipline’s sake.

“In the script, it says ‘kiss on the cheek’, and I need my actors to do exactly as scripted, okay?”

Rowan and Aelin both muttered their agreements.

“Great. If that—“ Mr. Emrys pointed at the spot their kiss happened. “happens again, I’ll have to take measures all three of us won’t like.”

“We understand.”

“Great.” He said in an upbeat mode, without his ‘stern teacher’ frown, switching back to ‘nice teacher’ mode. “Glad that’s settled. You can go now, but I want you in your best behavior from now on.”

The thing about Mr. Emrys is that he’s a really cool dude. He rarely gets angry at his students, most times it’s an odd sort of fond exasperation. It worked on their favor this time, but Rowan wouldn’t take it for granted.

Outside, Aelin stopped once the door was closed. So did he. The playful flirtation they had during rehearsal was gone, and Rowan was unsure on how to make a move in this awkward silence.

It was now or never, though.

Aelin chuckled and went her way down the hall, which he followed beside her.

“So, that happened.”

He gave her a brief, close-lipped smile. “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?” She swiftly looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Doyouwannagooutsometime?”

Rowan hoped the blood rushing into his cheeks wasn’t visible from outer space.

Aelin had both hands gripping the shoulder straps of her backpack as she fought the corners of her lips from quirking up.

“Sure,” she said. “Do you have something in mind? Because there’s this movie I really wanna watch—”

“We can watch it.”

Aelin bit her bottom lip, eyes brimming with amusement. “I haven’t told you which movie it is yet.”

He tilted his head, silently urging her to give the information.

Please, anything but that gorey demon one he saw last weekend.

“Do you wanna go see Healers vs. Demons?”

“Sounds great,” Rowan half-lied.

Any movie sounded great if it was on his first date with Aelin.

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[aringofsalt]

🖤 and bucktommy

🖤 - kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

made it angsty just for you 😂 (well. angsty for me anyway shhhhh)

One name.

Two syllables.

A common enough name, one the barista waiting impatiently behind the counter probably said five times a day or more; only a few short months ago it was one of the most special names in Buck’s life. But it couldn’t be him; Buck's Tommy was gone. He was halfway across the damn country by now at his fancy new job, not that Buck was bitter about it, he was being super mature about it actually—

“Order for Tommy?” The barista repeated, exasperated, and this time a very familiar set of shoulders came into view.

Buck watched, frozen in place, sure that he’d once again taken a bolt of lightning to the face and descended into bizarro coma world, but before he could get too far down that spiral, Tommy had turned around and headed in his direction. He glanced up at Buck, did a double take, then froze himself, the two of them deer in each other’s headlights.

“Uh, h-hey, Tommy,” Buck offered stiffly. “Are you meeting someone?”

“Hmm?”

“You have two cups,” Buck pointed out. Tommy smiled shyly, turning one of them to the side to show the little label marked off with—Buck’s usual order.

“I was actually hoping to surprise you before your shift. I, uh, wanted to tell you in person, but I decided not to take that job. I just—I wanted to stay. I wanted you. I had to iron things out with my boss and be absolutely sure I could back out before I told you, but they were already ready to offer me a pretty good retention deal, so—mmph!”

Buck wasn’t about to wait a single second longer before throwing himself at Tommy for the first time in months, busy coffee shop be damned. By some sort of miracle (or just Tommy’s reflexes), the cups stayed in his hands instead of hitting the floor, but he wrapped his arms around Buck as best he could anyway, holding him steady as he always did.

“Really?” Buck breathed, tears already pricking at the corners of his eyes and threatening to fall. “You’re really staying?”

“Sure am, baby,” Tommy said softly, arms tightening even more. “And I know it’s a lot to expect that you’d still want to—”

Tommy was right, all those months ago when he’d kissed Buck for the first time and turned his whole life upside down: kissing someone was an effective way to shut them up.

[princessbrunette]

when did you know you loved me? pt.3/4 ♡

deer!reader had never been more comfortable with anyone in her life. she enjoyed that she got to be herself around him — a little weird, sometimes quiet, simply enjoying eachothers company until she could think of something to say.

“it feels oddly good. like the contrast of the cold shells on my hot back? it’s therapeutic.” pope observes as you sit cross legged on the beach beside him, placing the collection of shells you’d gathered along his bare back, enjoying the peace it brought you.

“okay new business venture, i offer my services of shell-therapy where i place shells on peoples backs along the beach and they pay me lots of money.” you smile, watching your boyfriend shake his head from where his temple rests on his stacked hands.

“oh hell no, this is a special service for me only. far too intimate. also as much as i enjoy this, i wouldn’t pay for it. bad business move.” pope banters in response and you laugh openly. he always entertained your silliness, or your goofy ideas that logistically made his head hurt just a little. to this, you felt a wave of affection.

“i love you.” you grin, shaking your head. it’s the thousandth time you’ve said it, but the abruptness of it compared to the conversation makes pope lift his head, craning it around to look at you with a confused yet adoring smile.

“oh— well, i love you. a lot.” he reciprocates and you lean forward, kissing his sweaty temple.

“can i ask you something a little weird? there’s a segment missing in my ‘us’ section of my journal and i wanna fill it out.”

“ask away.” he croons as he settles back down in the position he lay in before.

“when did you know you loved me? was there a moment? or was it a slow gradual thing that just crept up on you?”

there’s a silence for a moment as pope considers, before he slowly rolls over — tipping all the shells off his back back onto the sand and laying on his back once more, breathing out a slow breath of consideration. the sad “hey” that you were about to mewl at him destroying your artwork on his back died on your tongue, more interested in what he had to say.

“you know… there’s part of me that wants to say the first moment i saw you i was in love with you. i mean, shit — it absolutely felt that way.” he splutters with a quiet laugh.

“really?” you return his tone, chuckling as you gather your shells once more, not wishing to lose them.

“i mean yeah. when i saw you struggling to walk all those dogs along the beach after the storm i remember thinking ‘okay, that is definitely the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen’” he relays, soft smile remaining as he closes his eyes once more, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.

“aw…” you hum, pulling your knees to your chest and continuing to listen.

“and then of course i saw you again working at the library, and i knew i definitely had to have you, even though i kinda felt like a creep thinking that… because you barely knew me.” he cringes and you giggle, starting to place shells on his toned stomach instead.

“but i dunno… i think… i think i knew for sure that i loved you, like hard core— capital L loved you… was the first time you came to meet my folks. you came to dinner and you wore that pretty dress with the flowers on it? the one i love? and i could see the way my pops just thought you were everything, and my mom clearly adored you… and i realised i didn’t just love you… i wanted a life with you. like, the whole shebang… marriage, babies one day… all of it. you’re like… my forever. ugh, that was total cringe. but it’s true.”

he peeks an eye open, to see if you’d totally caught the ick for his sappy story, but was happy to see you grinning ear to ear. you launch forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth. it’s a little sandy and salty, but it’s pope — so you don’t care.

“i want you forever and ever.”

“yeah? good. i want that too.”

[pascalispretty]

Love Shack

Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Joel gets a boner, forced proximity, only one bed, friends to lovers, kissing, implied smut

Summary: Stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm, you and Joel have to share the only bed. And you have to do your best to hide the crush you've been nursing on him. (ao3).

Notes: Another secret santa! This one is for @sp00kymulderr - Merry Christmas lovely!! My thanks as always to @misscharlielulu for listening to me agonise about every tiny detail. Title is silly, but I couldn't think of anything else.

You had been a little intimidated when Joel first showed up in Jackson, his not-daughter trailing behind him. He was tall and broad, and often stomped around town with a face like thunder. Gradually though, he had settled in to life in Jackson. After a winter storm sent a tree branch crashing through your roof, he was put in charge of fixing the hole. A contractor in a former life, according to Maria, he had done his job well.

Being in such proximity to him made you notice new things about him. The softness with which he would speak about Ellie when you offered to give them the game of Jenga that had been on the shelves when you’d moved in. The obvious care he seemed to take in his work. The polite nod and sincere thank you when you made him tea after a long day toiling up on your roof.

The more you came to know Joel, the less intimidating he seemed. It was a sentiment that was shared by many of the people in Jackson. People who went on patrol with him spoke warmly of his talents – his skill at building traps for animals, his talent for picking off Clickers with Tommy’s borrowed sniper rifle.

On the occasions you were assigned to patrol with him, you generally came back to Jackson having learned something new. A different type of snare for rabbits, or a better way to tie a deer he’d shot to one of the horses.

The best thing, though, was the music.

There was a piano in the back of the mess hall that had been there ever since you arrived in Jackson. Gracie, the older lady who’d taken you under her wing when you arrived, had taught you how to play; before the outbreak, she’d given lessons. And, at Ellie’s insistence, Joel had played with you once or twice in the mess hall, accompanying you on the guitar while you played. You wish you had a guitar right now.

It would give Joel something else to focus on other than your current predicament.

The snow hadn’t been that heavy when you left Jackson to go on patrol with Joel. But the snow started coming down so thickly that you could barely see Joel and his horse in front of you, and the wind screamed through the trees like some new and horrifying variant of Infected.

Before long, you and Joel had been left with a choice; to seek shelter where you could, or to try and go back to Jackson. Joel had managed to guide you to a cabin used as an outpost by other patrols. There was a ski resort not far from the town, and little log cabins still dotted the landscape. Half of them were in ruins; one had burned out leaving only the shell of a corner behind.

You, Joel and the horses had crowded into the one that seemed the least derelict. It was a tiny place. The horses were left in the remains of the open space that contained a kitchen and a moth-eaten sofa. It left the small bedroom for you and Joel to hole up in. Sitting awkwardly on the sagging bed, you can hear Joel breaking up some of the remaining furniture in the other room to build a fire.

“This place is barely a cabin,” Joel groused, building the fire up with broken table and chair legs. “It’s a glorified shack.” You carry on crumpling up the pages of an old newspaper you’d found under the bed, gnawing on your lower lip.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you start. He had wanted to try for the lodge further up the hill, but you had been reluctant to push the horses any harder. A deep sigh escapes from him.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for. You were right, we shouldn’t have pushed the horses. ‘s just that this place is so small.” He’s not wrong about that. The bed is shoved right up against the wall, and with the horses in the other room, the only other space is a tiny bathroom you don’t even want to think about right now.

The fire flickers slowly to life, and you and Joel hang up your outer layers to dry. You still wish for music, for something to break the awkward silence between you. The storm shows no sign of letting down; the little cabin holds in the warmth of the fire, but it’s not enough to keep the chill out entirely.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel says. “I’ll keep watch in the other room.”

“Who could find us all the way out here, in this storm?” You point out. It’s not like you want to exacerbate the awkwardness in the air, but sharing a bed might at least help keep you both warm.

So the two of you begrudgingly settle into the bed. You lie between Joel and the wall, trying to ignore the draft creeping in from some miniscule crack near your feet. It’s so quiet; the sound of the wind outside is muffled, so only the crackle of the fire and the occasional shift of the horses in the next room disturbs the quiet. When you whisper a ‘good night’ to Joel, it sounds almost deafening in the hush that’s settled over the cabin.

You’re not sure how long you doze for. Only that, when you wake, you realise Joel has moved closer to you in the night. Instead of lying stiffly several inches away, he’s curled around you from behind. And, pressing insistently against the small of your back, Joel is unmistakably hard.

You nearly choke on your own tongue when you realise it, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. He must be having quite the dream. Trapped between his body and the wall, you’re not sure what to do with yourself. You’ve always been painfully aware of how attractive Joel is, but you’ve never considered that he might reciprocate that feeling; you settled for the friendship he slowly offered, the bond over music.

Time is meaningless out here, without even the sun to indicate whether it’s noon or night. You’ve no notion of how long you lie there for, contemplating an escape route. You want to avoid the possibility of an awkward conversation, of Joel getting the slightest hint of your crush on him. Even thinking of it as a crush sounds hopelessly juvenile.

It’s just your luck that a log collapses in the fire, the wood clattering as it rolls out of the fireplace and onto the floor. Joel is up immediately, picking up the unburned end and shoving it back into the fire before it can catch the timber floor. You sit frozen on the bed, unable to speak first, praying that Joel somehow hasn’t even noticed.

“…shit.” Joel still has his back to you, and something sinks in your gut at how disappointed he sounds. “Shit, I’m so- I’m sorry.”

“It happens, don’t worry. It’s just biology.” You shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. There’s the snapping of more wood as Joel vents his frustration on the remaining chair legs, breaking them and throwing them into the fire.

“Feels like a shitty thing to do.”

“Well, you could have bought me a drink first,” you tease. To your surprise he – well, he doesn’t laugh. He more just huffs out of his nose. But he sounds amused by it, at least.

“Now you sound like Ellie. She’s always tryin’ to get me to be nicer to you. Says I owe you a drink every time you let me sing when we play.” Rather than stay awkwardly standing, he opts to kneel by the bed instead. Up close, you can see just how lovely and dark his eyes are, and see the smattering of grey hair in his beard.

“You don’t owe me anything for that. I like it when you sing.” He’d sung the House of the Rising Sun for you by way of an audition, and you’d been immediately enamoured with his rough but lovely voice. It reminds you of the country singers that Eugene listens to on tape.

“Well, I like it when you play.” Joel’s eyes sweep over you, and he gives another deep sigh. “I am sorry. ‘s not fair to you.”

“Joel, it’s really okay. I didn’t mind.” Are you crazy, or did he look at you with more interest when you said that?

“How can you not mind some old man groping you in your sleep?” He asks, shaking his head. “I understand if you don’t wanna go on patrol with me any more when we get back, I can talk to Tommy-”

“Joel,” you say firmly, cutting him off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, but you push on. “I really didn’t mind. Really. And I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to get back up here with me.” You might have just ruined whatever friendship you had with him, but you can’t bear him beating himself up over it any longer. He raises an eyebrow at you, eyes skimming over your body.

“You wouldn’t mind?” He asks eventually, leaning in closer.

“No. I- I want you to.” You worry you sound pathetic, but Joel doesn’t seem to think so. His eyes watching your face closely for any sign of discomfort, he climbs back onto the bed and lies down beside you. Your faces are only inches apart. You have nothing else to lose, certainly no dignity left.

You lean in and kiss him.

His lips are soft and full against yours, and Joel barely hesitates before he’s kissing you back. You have no idea if your friendship will be salvageable after this, but right now, with Joel’s lips against yours, you’re not sure you care. One of his large hands rests on your waist, pulling your body closer to him as he deepens the kiss.

Later, when the fire has died down, and the storm is starting to abate, you’ll wonder how exactly it happened. How your clothes came to be strewn about the tiny bedroom, how Joel’s come ended up drying on your thigh.

But right now, you’re content to melt into Joel and enjoy whatever he has to give you.

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse @irishavengersassemble

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #40] Spinning Bottles

warnings: one of my faves!! drinking games, alcohol, home noraebang a la in the soop, brief game-related kiss with someone who isn't kook, jealous kook!!, ankle hold!! mm mm mm, kitchen kisses <3, mutual masturbation, sex toys (m&f), cum eating, cum swapping, multiple orgasms, just a fun time all round <3, the starlovers are really good at taking breaks!! self control is their forte!!

a/n: they're on wings which is like track 3 of the sy: final setlist and I can't promise ill get much more done of this bc they're in sparkly suits and I'm just a girl

wc: 14.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Stop," you laugh in that oh-so-serene way you always do when you don't really want Jeongguk to stop whatever he's doing. You just like an excuse to bicker - but he's just the same. Enjoys the back and forth. Always puts a smile on his face.

In the kitchen area of the main house, you've been setting up with Namjoon for the better part of half an hour, making sure that everything is ready for tipsy bingo later that evening.

The room is a chaotic mix of party decorations; an exuberant clash of colours that makes the previously millennial-grey kitchen come to life. Streamers hang from the ceiling, as do the balloons, and a few tiny disco balls, which are really just repurposed Christmas tree decorations.

"Not doing anything," Jeongguk mumbles through a mouthful of the puffed cheese balls that have been set out on the table as a snack for the evening.

Stood on a chair as you tape another one of the disco balls in place, you look over your shoulder to find Jeongguk's cheeks full to the brim. Eyes like a deer caught in headlights, he whips his hand away from the bowl, which now has significantly fewer snacks in it than it did 5 minutes ago.

"Gguk!" You laugh once more, simply shaking your head. "Told you already. They're for later."

"I'm not doing anything," he protests yet again, as if you don't have a pair of working eyes and ears.

"Well, in that case, do something ," you say. "Be useful."

"And do what?" He mumbles through yet another mouthful.

Unbelievable .

Tossing the tape in your hand down onto the kitchen counter, you hop down from the chair and just shake your head as you approach him. His fingertips are orange, and he can't lick them clean because his mouth is full of the cheese puffs that he's pretending aren't there.

"You're like a hamster," you deadpan, squeezing his cheeks a little bit - which causes his ever-so-large eyes to widen even further, scared of the pressure you're applying. Thankfully for him, you don't really fancy getting coated in his regurgitated food. You'll share many things with him, but this is not one of them.

Loosening your grip, you walk around the kitchen island to check in the fridge for the alcohol you bought earlier. "Fancy tending the bar, Dionysus boy?"

Jeongguk frowns. Swallows down the food he totally wasn't eating. Says, "It's my day off!"

"Pretty please," you plead with a pout, and then for good measure you add, "Koo. Please."

He outwardly scowls, but his insides are doing all sorts of silly loop-di-loop shit that usually only happens on rollercoasters. "Don't call me that. Witch."

"Just make a few pitchers for me," you implore, ignoring the choice of insult. You quite enjoy the idea of putting a spell on him. Might make him behave for once. "Starfuckers, Star Lovers, anything. I don't mind. A Woo-woo maybe?"

He scoffs, now. "A Woo-woo? Who do you think I am, B?"

Making his way around the counter, he taps your hips and scoots you out of the way before grabbing the liquor from the bottom shelf.

"A fuckin' woo-woo. It's like you don't even know me," he scolds you. Is ridiculously obtuse in his little tantrum, not caring for the fact he'll be making you exactly what you want. "You'll get what you're given - and you're getting star fuckers. And you're gonna like them."

Rather be getting star fucked, your brain sighs, and you almost verbalise the command for it to shut up.

Instead, you just beam at him like the shooting star you are. "Thank you!"

Leaving him to mumble false annoyances under his breath, you get back on with decking the room to the absolute nines. Jeongguk takes over the playlist, and you let him, even if you do lament the fact Charlie Puth seems to be every other song. The thing is, Jeongguk's voice harmonises so heavenly that it makes even the most overplayed of songs enjoyable.

Eventually, he makes himself extra useful and helps Namjoon rearrange some of the furniture to make the set-up a little bit more like a bingo hall. You and Namjoon get your very own stage - or rather, the boys just haul in a couple of wooden palettes from the deck area that will one day be chopped down for firewood.

Disguised by a little fabric and even more decorative touches from your hands, the room looks like a whimsical coming together of Dionysus and your apartment. Colourful, a little makeshift and incredibly welcoming, it's perfect. Fairy lights line the walls, balloons are scattered around the floor and disco balls take their place on the ceiling.

"Christ alive," is all Jimin mutters as he enters the room - and that's how you know it's perfect. As long as his minimalism-loving interior designer ass hates it, it's everything you could ever want and more.

There's a joy that comes with a room decorated like they're anticipating a toddler's birthday party, yet there are wine glasses in the place where there should be sippy cups - although now you come to think about it, perhaps sippy cups would have been a good idea.

You've barely explained the instructions of the night, and the group are already getting merry. Jeongguk's welcoming shots were a little stronger than normal, by design. He knows you have high hopes for your little event, and wants to help achieve that.

Dressed to the nines while the rest of the group are casual, you and Namjoon are severely committed to the bit. He's in a sweatshirt and bowtie, while you're wearing a pretty, white summer dress with a few ruffles. It's not all that dignified. It's so short that you know bending over isn't a good idea - but it doesn't matter.

Jeongguk still stares at you like a lovesick puppy regardless.

The first round is simple - just your standard game of Bingo. Namjoon has been brushing up on all the correct terms - "Legs eleven! Duck and dive, twenty-five! Meal for two, sixty-nine!"

That last one earns a few groans from the crowd.

It does, however, get a little smirk on Jeongguk's face. On yours, too. You think you're coy when you sneak a glance in his direction, only to see he's doing just the same.

The contact of your gaze lasts for a fraction of a second, but it's enough to awaken dormant butterflies that seem to have hatched quite recently. You're all of a flutter. Can't quite seem to focus.

Thankfully it's Namjoon leading this round, and not you.

Yoongi is the first to call bingo. Screams it quite violently, actually, then plays it cool as if he didn't give a shit. Strolls up to the stage to present his card - not that you've been keeping track of the numbers. Still, you and Namjoon feign deliberation between yourselves, then crown him your first winner.

His prize? Watching on as everyone takes a shot of his choice.

And because he's an absolute heathen, he chooses Fireball.

"You sick fuck," Jimin gasps before he's even taken the shot of cinnamon whisky. Hates the stuff. Knows he's in for a world of pain when he wakes up with a hangover the next morning.

"Not my fault you're a loser," Yoongi teases. "Win next time and then you can pick."

And so, by some miracle - or just him convincing Nabi to switch bingo sheets with him - he does.

Living with a bartender has many perks, and learning specific shots is just one of them. Jimin really hasn't utilised it enough, but Jeongguk looks on with pride as Jimin sets up a round of slippery nipples.

Equal parts sambuca and Baileys, the different densities of the alcohol means that the bottom half of the glass is entirely transparent, while the top half is a pale, creamy brown. Appetising? No. Delicious? Also, no. Fun to watch other people drink? Absolutely.

This time, Jimin forces you and Namjoon to drink. You protest. Cite a particularly bad night out (and morning after) thanks to slippery nipples.

Jeongguk calls you a pussy from across the room.

Challenged, you down it instantly, and mouth 'fuck you' at him after you've stopped wincing from the taste.

He just knocks his shot back without any trouble, grinning as he looks at you, his brows quickly rising and then falling. In the corner of his mouth, his lip ring does that godforsaken thing you love so much, and you decide that you simply cannot look at him for the rest of the evening.

By the third round, things are getting lairy.

Seoyeon calls bullshit when Yoongi wins again - "We're supposed to be a team! You can't be throwing me under the bus!" - and the judges have no choice but to disqualify him - "It's my party!" - and then give him a penalty shot for arguing with the adjudicators - "You're both uninvited to the wedding."

When Seoyeon calls 'bingo' two numbers later, you realise that perhaps she had ulterior motives.

"Unbelievable," Yoongi mutters when she passes him a shot of vodka with a giggle - but as soon as he's downed it, he's got his arm looped back around her shoulders again, and a kiss is being pressed to her cheek.

So in love are Seoyeon and Yoongi that both you and Namjoon gag a little - then force everyone else to take a shot. Star fuckers, this time. One of the pre-made batches you had Jeongguk mix-up earlier. Far more palatable than the other shots. In fact, they're so much nicer, that most people do another shot voluntarily.

With enough liquor in your systems to really let loose, you and Namjoon introduce the real bingo of the night.

Numbered balls back in the cage, Namjoon hands out fresh bingo sheets while you hold up a list, a wicked smile on your face.

Jeongguk recognises that smile. Fuckin' loves it. Knows it means one thing and one thing only: trouble.

"Each number correlates with a 'Never Have I Ever' prompt," you explain. "If you've never done it, you can cross the number off your bingo card."

"And if we have done it?" Taehyung asks, as if you weren't about to just move onto that stipulation of the rules. He's impatient. Wants to win.

"If you have done it, you take a sip of drink."

"And cross it off?" He clarifies, but is horrified to see you shake your head.

"Nope. If you've done it, you take a shot, and leave it uncrossed ."

"No one will ever win!" He wails - not realising that's the whole entire point.

The list is a combination of yours and Namjoon's knowledge. You've directly targeted your friends with things you know they've done. Have tried not to incriminate yourself too much, but you know there are things both you and Jeongguk will be drinking for.

Collectively deciding that no one would be able to win the game, you had both spent the entire time writing out the list giggling.

It was truly a bonding moment for you both - just as you're sure the revelations of everyone's sex lives will be for the whole group. Nothing says 'strong friendship' quite like knowing what your mates get up to in the sack. You and Jeongguk are a testament to this.

With 92 balls in the cage, you really had to scrape the barrel of sexual exploits when coming up with the list.

Which is why the first one gets you laughing before you even read it out.

"74," you announce. "Never have I ever had someone else's toes in my mouth."

"What?!"

"You guys are horrible," Danbi laughs - then takes a shot... as does nearly everyone in the room.

The only person who doesn't is Hoseok. He looks at you all with mild horror and intense curiosity. Points his finger around the room, and judgmentally says, "Disgusting. All of you. Animals."

"Don't knock it till you try it," Namjoon says, before swigging down some of his drink. You can't work out if he's flirting. Decide not to let it linger, 'cause from the look on Hoseok's face, he can't work it out either. Cute.

Namjoon begins to spin the ball cage once more. The small numbered balls rattle against one another as they fight to escape, until one eventually wins.

"21," you declare. "Never have I ever... been walked in on by my housemate."

Taehyung and Danbi both narrow their eyes at you - and your little grin only serves to prove that they're right to think it's aimed at them.

The horrors of New Year's Day still live in your mind rent-free. You don't think you'll ever be able to forget the image of Taehyung darting across your living room stark-bollock naked. You've seen freckles you never should have seen.

"What if your housemate heard you," Jimin asks. "Does that count?"

You and Namjoon deliberate for a moment, then decide that anything that gets more people drinking is positive. Tell him yes.

"Drink up, Gguk," Jimin teases across the room, earning himself a curt, but giggly 'Oh, fuck you' from his housemate. They've lived together for years, so it's hardly a surprise.

Thing is, you know Jimin to be a heavy sleeper. Know that you've gotten away with it pretty much every time you've hooked up with Jeongguk in his apartment. His room is against the living room, but it's across the apartment from Jimin's room. Even times in his bathroom have been masked by running water and the promise of Jimin's hangover keeping him knocked out.

Jimin doesn't tell you to drink.

An ache blooms in your chest in a way you don't really understand.

"Oh actually, in that case," Danbi speaks up, pulling you from your pitiful thoughts, as she pours out a fresh shot and passes it over to you. "You too."

"When?!" you exclaim, previous ponderings of Jeongguk's sex life fading into the abyss.

"Our walls are so thin," she laughs - and you know this to be true. "I've heard horrors."

"Oh, get fucked," you laugh, taking the shot regardless, deliberately not focusing back on Jeongguk.

Probably best.

The way he's looking at you right now would make you spiral; stare hard, jaw tense. He looks down at the table and shakes himself out of it before anyone can notice it. Stupid thing to get worked up about. He knows this. Refuses to let his misplaced emotions ruin the evening.

By the time someone calls bingo, you've lost track of everything - who's done what, which numbers have been called, quite literally all the important stuff.

Still, Taehyung takes his victory like a champ. Makes a speech.

Slurs, as he says, "I'd like to thank my beautiful girlfriend-" hiccups "- And say a very merry fuck you to all of my best friends. I love you."

And then he proceeds to dance, in a way no one expected, and nobody understands. He sort of looks like a cross between a 90-year-old man who occasionally transforms into a pole dancer - things he's learned from Danbi, no doubt.

Everyone watches on with mild horror, but nobody stops him. Jimin films it. In the morning, Taehyung will realise it's been viewed a couple of thousand times on the TikTok account that Jimin has never posted anything on before - but right now, you're all capable of making bad decisions.

Everyone, except for Yoongi and Seoyeon. Already pretty much stolen by drunken slumber, Yoongi carries her bridal-style back to their room in one of the outer houses, and you watch on with Danbi and Nabi cooing at just how sweet they are together.

Nabi knows full well the boys would draw moustaches on her if she fell asleep, and Danbi knows that Taehyung will be the one to fall asleep first if his little dancey-dance is anything to go by. You think about Jeongguk. Wonder if you'd become his responsibility.

"Oh, give over," Danbi laughs when you say you'd be left well alone. "Gguk'd probably worry you were dead and start doing CPR, or something stupid like that."

Nabi laughs. Agrees. "He'd get you on his back and Naruto-run you to the house. Probably land you both in the hospital."

Giggling at the stupidity of it all, you can't help but let the residual stardust in your heart burn. Glancing over at him, you wonder which scenario would be more likely to come true. When he feels your eyes on him, and looks up to meet them with a smile, you decide that you wouldn't mind either of them. Memories made with Jeongguk are things to be cherished, regardless of how stupid they may be.

It's why you ask him to come with you when you head over to the house you're staying in to grab a jacket. The air cools significantly at night still, and your little summer dress really isn't offering you enough protection from the chill.

"I like the dress," he says quietly as he sits on your bed while you rummage around for a jacket.

Holds his hands out for you to take - and when you do, he pulls you back to where you belong, between his spread legs.

Jeongguk looks you up and down as best he can when you're in such close proximity. Ends up just looking at your lips instead. Strokes your hip with the pad of this thumb.

"Pretty, pretty star, aren't you?"

Your eyes drop as your cheeks begin to flame ever so sweetly. Compliments from Jeongguk are nothing new, but they're never quite like this.

"Hmm?" He whispers, a little lopsided grin forming on his face when he realises how bashful you're being. "What's got you shy, huh?"

He really has to ask?

"Not shy," you hum sweetly. Dust make-believe lint away from his shirt. "Was just trying to figure out if that was dust or dandruff."

Rolling his eyes, he just says, "Fuck you, Byeol. My scalp is, like, a gift from the gods. Never had dandruff a day in my life, even when I bleached it."

"Should bleach it again," you tell him just to continue the deflection from your own awkwardness.

"Think you'd like it?" He asks.

"Not really into blondes," you lie. "Would be better for us if you repulsed me a little bit more than you already do."

"You'd be into me even if my head was shaved," Jeongguk snorts.

Ruffling your fingers in his hair, you shake your head. Smirk, and give him those eyes you always pretend to not realise you give him, before turning away to head for the door. "Nah. Need something to hold onto."

"You're filth, Disco Ball," he calls after you.

Looking back over your shoulder as you reach the door, the swish and flick of your ponytail matching the skirt of your summer dress, you're well aware that you're flirting. Well aware you shouldn't be flirting. Well aware that you shouldn't say the next few words, and yet you just can't seem to help yourself.

"You love it."

Jeongguk says nothing. Purses his lips. Fails to hide his smile, or formulate any response before you're already heading through the common area of the house and for the front door. He's damned if admits it, damned if he denies it. Silence in the space of truth is far safer, he thinks.

Following as you head back to the main house, you talk nonsense. The stars watch on with a fond sparkle, waves crashing ever so softly against the shore.

By the time you're back at the house, everyone has migrated to the sitting room, and Namjoon and Nabi have just finished a rendition of Finesse on the home-noraebang system.

Lights off, a couple of lamps and disco bulbs are the only thing providing any light, dappling you all in the most whimsical colours, as if you really are in a noraebang.

Jeongguk watches on with a quiet smile as you and Danbi enthuse over which song to sing next.

Neither of you are able to remember the name of any song ever released, apparently, and instead have resorted to tapping through random lettings into the machine and seeing if something tickles your fancy.

Currently, you're scrolling through artists that begin with 'C', and you can't help but fixate a little bit when you scroll down to Charlie Puth.

He's not your favourite - something about him just irks you - but you know Jeongguk loves him. Know that if you and Danbi sing one of his songs, it'll put a smile on Jeongguk's face. That he'll watch on from the sofas with a giggle, and probably sing along, too. Knowing the boys, you half think they all will.

And so you wave your arm in front of you as Danbi continues pressing the down button, and say, "That one! The duet with Selena."

One of Danbi's many blessings is the way she seems to retain every song she's ever heard in her brain. Even if a song she doesn't know is chosen, she can usually pick it up.

And so, even though it wouldn't be her first pick, she's more than happy to oblige. Clicks through, as Taehyung walks into the room with the final jug of premade starfuckers. Wisely, he's also got a big bottle of water tucked beneath his arm, but you doubt you'll be having much of that, in all honesty.

"I'll be Charlie," Danbi offers, knowing that her register is a little lower than yours - not that either of you can actually sing well. In fact, you half think the boys might have to leave the room. Singing really isn't a strength that belongs to either of you, but it is also what makes it so much fun.

You avoid turning to look at Jeongguk as the instrumental starts, the multi-coloured disco light shining on you both like you really are fully-fledged pros. Naively, you think you can get away with a glance in the mirror that's standing in the corner of the room - only to find a pair of fond eyes staring back at you.

Immediately, you look away. It's so embarrassing to be caught, regardless of how many times Jeongguk has locked eyes with you in mirrors. In the gym during those early days, in his bedroom, in his lounge, bars, bathrooms - ever-present. Always there. Like a pair of cosmic entities, you're still orbiting one another.

You're on course for collision, and it'll be catastrophic.

The inevitable calamity of your pairing is disregarded as Danbi gets into the lyrics, and you're pleased she's just as terrible as she always is. Gets everyone laughing, and singing along. It's Jeongguk's voice that holds your focus - and the way he stops singing when Danbi reaches the pre-chorus.

Don't wanna know,

It's odd, you think. The pre-choruses are always fun.

What kind of dress you're wearing tonight.

But then you stop singing, too.

If he's holding onto you so tight, the way I did before.

And then you're a little bolder in the way you let your eyes land in the mirror. Accept the way his eyes are already on you, lips parted ever so slightly, brows hard as he contemplates thoughts you don't want to let yourself imagine.

Jeongguk is in your head. The touch of his soft hands against your hips. The way he had declared you to be a pretty, pretty star bouncing around your skull. The fondness of his eyes on yours in the sanctuary of a private room.

It's so stupid . It was just a compliment. It really doesn't mean anything more than what it exactly expressed - and yet you wonder if Jeongguk is listening to the lyrics a little too intently. If he's thinking about you how you thought about him during the final round of bingo; with someone else.

You don't let yourself dwell on it. Danbi's chorus is finishing, and you've got lines to belt. Can't be letting your drunk brain get wrapped in nonsense that really doesn't make a difference.

Danbi forgets the concept of a duet, and continues to sing full pelt into the mic during Selena's part, but you don't mind. The pair of you sing at one another in such an aggressive manner that you can't help but giggle.

Every now and then I think you might want me to come show up at your door.

Jeongguk watches you a subtle smile on his lips. Wonders if you realise just how awful your singing is, and how volume doesn't negate a total lack of tone.

But I'm just too afraid that I'll be wrong.

Despite the fact you do sound like a drowning cat, there's something about this line that makes him feel a little something more than just bemusement. Previous uncomfortable thoughts of you with someone else echo in his mind.

He can't work out if there are signals that he's missing. Knows you've been working on your fears together, and quite successfully at that, but wonders which new ones could have evolved since you first wrote out the birds.

Neither of you are the people you were back then. Jeongguk thinks you're both better for it - but you're not perfect. Not by a country mile.

But perfection is for Hollywood stars, not the actual, living, breathing manifestation of the cosmic entities. It's your flaws that make you shine, and so maybe small fears are okay. If you've got someone to hold your hand throughout them all, then you'll never really need to be afraid again.

If you've done one thing right in your lifetime, it's befriending Jeongguk.

He's brought a richness to your life that you don't think you've ever known before. A year on since your first introduction, and it feels like this is exactly where you're supposed to be.

So you ignore the weightiness of your pre-chorus lyrics. Push the thoughts of Hayun out of your mind when you sing about another woman. She can only ruin your mood if you let her.

In the darkness of a room lit only by party lights, surrounded by friends, mediocre pop hits and the laughter of the ones you love, you never want to lose moments like these.

Finishing off on a particularly horrifying note, you and Danbi are the first to call bullshit when the noraebang system gives you a score of 63.

"Fuck you!" Danbi calls into the mic. "We were perfect!"

"You just don't know talent when you hear it," you second, middle finger pointed upwards, directed at the plastic box full of wires.

"Biased! Tone deaf!" Danbi insults the machine, just for good measure, then hands the mic over to whoever wants to go next, but warns. "It doesn't know what it's on about!"

Jimin hops up instantly. Tells the boys that they have to join. Refuses to tell them what they'll be singing - but makes sure they close their eyes until the instrumental starts.

There's laughter amongst the boys that just glows and illuminates the room. Opening their eyes, they instantly get themselves into a little formation, Jimin in the central role.

The look on his face is one of unbridled success. This is exactly what he was after.

Yourself, Danbi and Nabi watch on with great amusement as Shinhwa's Perfect Man begins to belt out of the speakers, and the boys start their rendition with fucking choreography. Practised shit. Learnt .

The three of you giggle at the sight in front of you, completely bemused.

Jimin is pitch-perfect taking the lead, and the rest of the boys share a mic between them, passing it around every now and again. You can tell it's not the first time they've ever done this, and truth be told, you'd like to know when the first time was - what on earth prompted them to learn a full routine?!

Cheering them on, you and the girls play the ultimate role of cheerleaders - and when Jimin strips off towards the end? Oh, you've never screamed louder for a man. There are smiles on the faces of quite literally every single person in the room.

Or at least there is, until the noraebang machine grades them, and you think Jimin might just throw it out of the window.

"SIXTY-TWO?!" He yells. "Sixt- oh, this is unbelievable! Sixty-fucking-two?!"

"Losers," Danbi teases the boys, who are finding the whole thing hilarious - but also begin to take offence, too.

"It's wrong!" Taehyung begins to insist, too. "We are perfect men."

How on earth they scored a point less than you will remain a mystery until your dying days, you're sure of it - but for now, it's fun to tease them.

As Jeongguk takes the seat beside you on the sofa, you get a little more comfortable. Bring your knees to your chest, and then lean into his relaxed recline. His breath is a little heavier thanks to his dancing, lungs heaving ever so slightly, skin warm.

You speak quietly to him beneath pandemonium unfurling.

"Since when are you a K-pop trainee?" you say with a teasing smile.

Jeongguk just nudges you away, then pulls you back, his drunk smile so pretty beneath purple lights currently dancing around the room. So pretty. So perfect. So deserving of a little kiss for a job well done.

"Eyes up here," he whispers, still grinning. "Why? Did you like it?"

"Fuck you," you reply to his first statement, and take one last glance at his dewy lips, which he licks, before toying with his lip ring in the way he does that always drives you a little bit insane.

"Now? B, our friends are here," he flirts quietly before you can answer his questions. There's a certain sin to the way he looks at you after a couple of drinks, and it always gets you thinking about the way he worships you like a saint beneath the sheets. Gets you a little desperate; needy for a touch you know you shouldn't love as much as you do. "A little decorum, please."

And so once more, you just say 'fuck you' with a giggle - but then you're letting out a small yelp as Jeongguk drags you to your feet, grabbing the mics from Jimin, who is still cursing out the machine.

Your friends cheer you on while you accept two shots of fuck-knows what from Taehyung, while Jeongguk loads up a song. He doesn't consult you first, and you don't care to be consulted, either way. You're so drunk that anything will do. So is he - but he picks this one deliberately: Replay by SHINee.

Picks it, 'cause every time he hears it, he thinks of you. Wants to sing it with you, 'cause he's too timid to sing it at you. This gives him a little plausible deniability. Smart, even when he's steaming, Jeongguk is pleased when he sees you smiling at the screen.

It's a break-up song, but that's not really why he chose it. Chose it 'cause he remembers the way you, Danbi and Hoseok fuckin' lit up one evening towards the start of your friendship with him when it came on in Dionysus.

Reminds him of how the lyrics bemoaned other guys looking at the singer's pretty Noona, and how he'd sung along quietly by the bar, glancing over to you discreetly - only to earn himself a whip from a tea towel thanks to Yeonjun.

See, Jeongguk has never been discreet a day in his life when it comes to you. Is realising this much later than he should have done - but is already fuckin' serenading you in front of all of your friends, as if he didn't realise they'd all totally know what he's doing.

You're completely unsurprised that Jeongguk somehow seems to know the dance to this one, too.

You do not, but you also don't need to because Jeongguk is playing the role of a devoted, love-drunk fool perfectly. Gestures towards you with every beat of the song.

The real pièce de résistance?

When Taehyung and Jimin join as fucking backup dancers to the bridge and final chorus.

At this point, you take a seat next to Danbi on the sofa, and the pair of you belt the lyrics into your shared mic, though half of the words are replaced with your drunk giggles instead. Holding out your hand, you beckon for Nabi to come and join you. She happily obliges you, and the three of you are the perfect recipients of the boys and their little performance.

Hoseok and Namjoon are half invested, half busy animatedly chatting about something else instead. You leave them be. Think they look quite cute.

The boys in front of you, however, are a picture-perfect idol group, even if they are rat-arsed, and a little rusty on the old dance moves. Somehow their coordination is spot on, and it just raises even more questions.

You're still laughing when the score comes through and the boys are too busy congratulating themselves on a job well-done to notice it either.

Still holding the mic, Jeongguk holds his hand out for you to join him again.

"Sorry," he laughs. "We'll do something properly this time - your choice."

And even though it is your choice, you pick something that you know will be right up his alley. Wanna do something he likes, because seeing him with a smile on his face is maybe your favourite thing in the world.

"Oh, banger," he beams as the song loads up, and you're pleased to have chosen well.

"Young Money," you start, then replace Justin's name with that of your best friend and gesture towards him. "Jungkooooook!"

He takes the role of Justin Bieber so seriously that you can't help but laugh. Smoulders .

"Show you off," he gestures towards you as the song begins. "Tonight I wanna show you off."

The pair of you dance around, both singing, not really caring for the lines you're supposed to take. Really do party like it's 3012 tonight.

Moments like these - trapped between the unadulterated joy of what it's like to be young, and the heavy understanding that the people around you will be with you until you're old - are what life is for. You've sung in countless noraebangs, and consumed even more countless drinks - but this? Here? Right now? Tonight?

This is one night you'll remember for the rest of your life. Perhaps not the specifics, and perhaps the alcohol will ravage your memories, but in 5, 10, 20 years, you'll feel just as fond about this evening as you feel about it right now.

Not just for Jeongguk, but for all of your friends. For the unwavering amusement that comes with being in a group that just gets each other, despite any differences. There's a safety and serenity here that is rare to come by. You're lucky.

And yet all of these complex and heavy emotions fizzle away to simple joy.

Jeongguk's hand snakes around your waist at some point or another, and you know you're dancing a little too closely in front of everyone else.

Not a single person cares. They just cheer you on. Will be dancing in just the same ways when it's their turn.

The fact that you took the role of Selena in your earlier duet with Danbi isn't lost on anyone, as Jeongguk gestures towards you when you sing, "Gotta keep an eye out for Selena."

The whole thing is ridiculous. The song, the way you and Jeongguk are so into it, the way you're acting if a little bit of free space in the sitting room is a stage in front of thousands.

Arm around your waist, Jeongguk pulls you a little closer as you finish Nicki's verse. Your arm slinks around his neck - and your friends go absolutely feral . Sharing just one mic, eyes on one another, there's no denying that your bodies are well-acquainted. It's in the way they move together so effortlessly, his hips a little too telling as they roll to beat of the song.

Body rock; I wanna see your body rock.

Oh, it's dastardly. Sinful. Who do you think you're fooling?!

'Cause all I need is a beauty and a beat, who can make my life complete.

A beauty and a beat? Yeah. When he looks at you, Jeongguk knows in this moment he's got both .

The way friends cheer you on would suggest they're very much aware of the fact Jeongguk has, by all metrics, seen your body rock. Neither of you care for subtleties. You're drunk, and it's your nearest and dearest around you. Who gives a fuck?

The way he belts the final chorus - it's aaaall 'bout yooouu - just solidifies the fact he's wasted behind a bar. Should be on stages, in some capacity. Calls you a star, but fuckin' hell - he's the real one.

Earning a much more respectable score - 83 - you and Jeongguk are given a standing ovation as you laugh all the way back to your previous seats.

Bundled up next to Jeongguk on the sofa, Danbi is on your other side.

Taehyung takes centre stage. Does that weird little dance again. Starts a song that nobody recognises at first, until the chorus kicks in - " Because you're gorgeous, I'd do anything for you" - and he turns to dramatically serenade Danbi à la Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. Different song, granted, but same exact vibe.

A one-man show, Taehyung is every bit the charismatic casanova. Even gets to his knees in despair, just so that Danbi knows how tragically gorgeous she is.

And yet despite the showmanship, it's Jeongguk humming along quietly to the song that has you feeling all sorted of fucked up. The way he nudges against you so subtly that nobody in the darkened room notices? The way he sings softly beneath his breath, right into your ear? The kiss against your hair that is fleeting everyone will miss it?

Oh, it's torture .

When Namjoon and Hoseok take the mics and do their best rendition of Epik High's Born Hater, everyone loses their shit. Taehyung is the best hype man you think you've ever seen - part of you thinks he might actually steal the mic at one point. Thankfully, he grabs an empty soju bottle and uses that instead.

They're the first - and only - 100-point score of the evening. You're pretty sure Seoyeon and Yoongi's early night will have been disturbed by the shriek of congratulations from you all upon the big shiny score on the screen. All far too drunk to really care for volume control, the party is far from over.

In fact, it's only just getting started. For all the talk of your house being the people who would be partying the hardest, you think it's pretty evenly split.

Danbi and Taehyung are, predictably, disgustingly cute together - but you know your best friend. A few drinks in her and she'll become trouble.

You're proven right when you're all sitting on the floor, taking a break from the home-noraebang session.

Still drinking, talking about nonsense, Taehyung is twiddling with his empty soju bottle turned noraebang mic on the carpet. He's spinning it without much thought, never really letting it stop - but when it does?

Yeah, Danbi is in one of those moods.

"On Jimin?" Danbi exclaims with a gasp, casting her eyes down to the bottle as it comes to a stop, the cap-end facing a very confused Jimin.

Taehyung looks just as confused for a second. Follows her gaze - and then realises what she's insinuating. "Oh, God. No. Absolutely not!"

He's not about to play spin the fucking bottle - especially not with his friends when his girlfriend is right beside him.

Jimin immediately takes offence, much in the same way he did when Jeongguk refused to fuck him. If even his friends won't get with him, what chance does he have?

"What's wrong with me?! Why wouldn't you?" He wails, flopping down to the floor from his seated position. "First Gguk, now you?"

"I'm not kissing you."

"Why not?" He whines. Doesn't really want to kiss Taehyung, but is offended that Taehyung doesn't want to kiss him. Rude.

"Because!" Taehyung says, hoping that it's reason enough.

For Jimin, it absolutely is not reason enough.

"This is so mean. I'd kiss you if the bottle told me to," he assures his friend.

Danbi, in classic, troublesome, Danbi style eggs it on. Says to Taheyung, "I'd kiss DB."

"Okay firstly," you laugh, looking at her with shock. "Since when the fuck have you ever called me DB ?!"

"It's just your name, now," Jimin interrupts. "Accept it."

"No," you don't bother humouring him, but are still finding the whole thing incredibly funny. "And secondly, we've already kissed a bunch of times, so it doesn't matter."

Jeongguk and Taehyung both chirp in surprise at this. Look at their respective girlies with little confusion, and are both met with a collective, "What?"

"I mean, do guys not kiss their besties?" Nabi interjects from across the circle, which also makes Jeongguk whip his head up towards her. You know the confusion directed at you is now directed towards her, and her bestie.

And it pisses you off - because you're drunk, and thoughts are irrational, and even though Jeongguk is well within his right to maybe be surprised, you think he's stupid for caring about where Hayun's mouth has been.

He doesn't care. Not like that. You know this.

Know that any embers that had still been burning for her when you first met him have well and truly been put out.

You're the one who cares. You're the one who is being stupid.

But isn't everyone a little irrational when they've had a few too many?

Reaching over to the bottle, you turn to look at him, and just say, "It's like, so normal; kissing your friends."

It's not like you ever kiss Danbi when you're sober. Only ever when you're drunk, and not really ever with much thought behind it.

Granted, you haven't done it in years. Was more of a thing you'd do during your reckless uni years.

Once you met Seokjin, your behaviour on nights out changed quite significantly. Matured. And after him? Well, people would be lucky to get a kiss from you, full-stop.

Your words are layered, though. It's so normal, kissing your friends.

He says nothing. Keeps his mouth shut. Tense. Looks at you as you turn away, and refuses to look elsewhere. Knows exactly what you meant.

What we do? It's normal. Nothing special. Don't get it twisted.

Spinning the bottle on the carpet, you're the one asking for trouble, now. Are committed to the bit. Want the thoughts of you kissing someone else in his head, purely cause you don't want the thoughts of Hayun in there instead.

It's a strange sensation that sears through your veins. One that you don't often feel; one that you hate. Makes you feel all green. Bitter.

You don't let it show. Instead, as the bottle slows to a stop, you're a bit giggly. It's the alcohol influencing your behaviour; thoughts not as clear as they usually are. Your intentions differ from the oncoming outcome. The dots of any hurt that could be caused don't join with the dots of your pre-existing sour emotions. The lines are wibbly wobbly.

Jeongguk knows that drinking is a big factor in your boldness, now. Also knows you've got total free will. You can do what you like. He won't stop you.

If anything, he should be proud of this. Of your willingness. Of the fact you'll kiss someone without a care in the world.

Yes, it's different to kissing someone in bed, but it's still a kiss. Still something he thinks you wouldn't have done this time last year. It's progress, albeit at the expense of the progression of whatever the fuck your relationship is these days.

He watches on with a stern gaze as the bottle finishes its final spin.

Directly across from you, it points to Nabi.

Poetic, almost, how you were concerned about Jeongguk's thoughts of Hayun kissing her.

She tilts her head a little, as if to ask, "Shall we?"

You repeat her motion, and remind the boys, "It's really not a big deal."

Jeongguk bites back a remark he could make about you, and kissing, and it being the biggest fuckin' deal he's ever known.

Yet he's silent as the rest of the group egg you and Nabi on. It's juvenile, how neither of you properly stand to cross the circle, but instead both lean forward, supporting yourselves with your hands and knees until you reach the centre.

He's thankful for one thing only, and it's the fact you're wearing a teeny tiny pair of shorts beneath your dress. Would have been catastrophic otherwise. Already kinda is.

There's a subtle curve to your spine. One that Jeongguk knows well. Doesn't notice if Nabi has a similar feline posture, for he's only focused on you.

And even as you and Nabi get far closer than you've ever been before, giggling like a pair of kids getting up to no good, it's the loose grip that Jeongguk has on your ankle that really has your attention.

It's a warning.

Have your fun, his touch tells you. But not too much fun.

You could pull your leg further forward. Could rid it of his grip.

But you don't. You stay shackled to him like a prisoner of crimes you're yet to commit.

There's no build-up, nor anticipation of the meeting of your lips with Nabi's. No trepidation. No nerves.

Admittedly, there's a slight hesitation. A couple of giggles. A little excitement, sure. She's gorgeous after all - the kind of girl anyone would be lucky to kiss. You've thought from the get-go that she's attractive, but have also never spent time with her when Jeongguk wasn't there, too.

No matter how pretty a face is, his will always be your favourite.

Even as she presses down into the kiss, lips gentle and plump, quite unlike Jeongguk's, it's the soft stroke of his thumb over your ankle that cracks through you like a volt of electricity.

Over as quickly as it started, you and Nabi both come away from the kiss with smiles, and coy looks upon your faces.

"See," you tell Taehyung, who is staring in disbelief, as you come to sit back beside Jeongguk. Are sad to lose his touch, but daren't look at him, because you don't want to know how he's feeling. What you just did was selfish, and you know it. "It's not a big deal."

Danbi nods. Takes the reins of the conversation. Agrees with you, but also caught the look on Jeongguk's face as it happened, and realises that maybe she should be careful about what she wishes for.

Decides that Spin the Bottle should remain a relic of cursed high school parties. Has no space at an event like this. Instead, she reaches for the deck of cards on the side table and gets to arranging them in a circle. Bottle still in the middle, she swaps it out for an empty glass.

Jeongguk gets to his feet. Is only going to grab another drink, but doesn't voice it to you. Doesn't voice it to anyone.

Danbi glances over to you - and unlike Jeongguk, she is good at being discreet. Tilts her sharply, subtly. Silently says, " Go ."

You relent for a moment, 'cause you know you're in trouble - but also know that's exactly why you need to follow him.

The lights are out in the kitchen, illuminated only by the lamps pouring in through the arch from the living room. The fridge is open, and Jeongguk is hidden by the door that he opens as soon as he notices you entering the room.

Really did just come for a drink, but also doesn't really wanna talk to you right now. Doesn't really understand the way he's feeling. It's not jealousy. That's one feeling he thinks he's got a good grasp on. It's something, though. Not nothing.

Coming to stand in the corner of the counters, you're also obscured from anyone entering the room. The fridge door acts as a shield.

And so Jeongguk closes it.

Turns to face you, but doesn't walk towards you. Is silent.

The shrouded darkness of the corner you've backed yourself into hides the way your heart is beating a mile a minute. The shadows obscure the look on Jeongguks face but you know him well enough now to know that his jaw is tense.

Shoulder silhouetted, you can see they are, too. Scatches as he finally asks, "Did you have your fun?"

You're silent.

He looks as if he's about to say something, and then just sighs.

Placing the bottle in his hand down on the counter, and there's a clatter that you assume is a bottle opener going with it. His sighs. Relaxes his shoulders.

Shakes his head. Considers for a second, then husks, "Fuck it."

The gap between you both is closed by Jeongguk, his hand cupping your jaw as he presses his liquor-laced lips down into yours. Has your body pressed close to his, then deepens the closeness and he does the same with the kiss. Pulls away, but only briefly. Only to give you a chance to stop it.

But you just pull him back. Needily get his lips on yours. Mirror his body language. Are desperate to feel his desire; begging for him to want you as much as your drunk mind wants him .

His kisses are rough. Aggressive. Assertive.

Until all very suddenly, they soften. The exhale of breath from his nose is warm on your cheek, both of you unable to properly regulate the oxygen you need. The issues had been fast and fleeting, but they'd been a force to be reckoned with. He rarely kisses you like that; without sweetness, or reservation.

He'd kissed you with purpose, and you damn well know it.

Is still holding your jaw as he leans his forehead against yours, noses nudging ever so gently.

"You gotta stop kissing my fuckin' friends, B," he says. " Our friends. You gotta stop."

It's not like you make a habit of it. You've kissed Jimin, like, once - but you know exactly what he means. Say nothing. Just nod. Let him kiss you again. Tenderly, now.

He's slow as he withdraws. Keeps you trapped between his body and the cabinets as he reaches behind you for an empty glass. Remains in position as he twists his upper body to swing the fridge door open, and grabs the filtered water jug.

The light around him from the fridge casts a halo, befitting of a man such as him. Heaven-sent, is Jeon Jeongguk, and you've been blessed to have known him during your time on this earth. You might not get so lucky in your next life. Need to stop taking it for granted.

It's funny, 'cause he's thinking the exact same thing about you.

The refrigerator light gets you sparkling. Puts all those stars back in your eyes. Ones he needs to stop stealing, 'cause you deserve to be as shiny as you possibly can be.

He comes around you like a magpie, and takes your shine, he thinks.

Doesn't realise you've been glowing ever since you met him because of him.

You were dull, before. The glitter was only ever a facade.

Yet it's permanent now - or a least it will be, until your star lover decides chasing a shooting star is a losing game.

"Here," he says as he passes you the water. "You're fucked."

You take a sip, then pass it back and say, "Here. You're fucked."

This does at least make him smile. Alleviates some of the discomfort that had temporarily brewed between you both. He nods. "Yeah. I am."

Pulling himself away, he holds his hand behind himself for you to take. Doesn't wanna fight with you. Just wants you two to be good. Doesn't care for dumb, petty fights. Knows that deep down, you don't either.

"C'mon," he hums quietly, as your fingers lace between his. "Let's go back."

He deliberately leaves the drink he was getting behind on the counter. Has had enough tonight. Doesn't tell you as such, but is pleased that you seem content sipping your water instead of reaching for more drinks during the next game. Just giggle along with whatever is happening, the mood between you both far easier than it had been a few moments previously.

Communication, it would seem, is key. Jeongguk appreciates the fact that you sought him out, even if you didn't really say anything. Knows that it was a way for you to let your defences down, something of which he isn't sure you'd have done a few months ago.

Then again, he's also not sure he'd have felt so irrationally jealous a few months ago, either.

But you're learning. Both of you are. Rome wasn't built in a day, and Jeongguk's just glad you're getting your hands dirty with the rubble and bricks of your relationship traumas, too. Are rebuilding yourself, and in turn, something new. Somewhere he thinks could make for a lovely home, one day.

One by one, back in the living room, yawns spread contagiously. It's Hoseok first, then Namjoon. Across the circle, Jeongguk follows suit. When you begin to yawn, he strokes your back.

"Bed?" he asks quietly, to which you nod.

He nods back. "I'll go get some water to take back to the house. Want any snacks?"

You shake your head, unable to verbalise a response thanks to the yawn taking hold of you. Dawn will be breaking soon, you're sure. Yoongi and Seoyeon went to bed hours ago. All you need is a really good sleep.

As the four of you meander back up to your house, Nabi and Jimin nattering, while Jeongguk hangs back a little bit, you find yourself distracted.

Arms crossed, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and his lips on yours in the kitchen, and how unbelievably reckless it was. Anyone could have walked in.

But perhaps that would have been okay.

Turning to check he's still walking towards the house, a smile settles on your face where a frown once was. Phone held up to the sky, Jeongguk is taking pictures of the moon. Zooming in as far as he can, and getting frustrated every time his still-drunk hands wobble a little too much.

"Tomorrow," you call over softly - and like a dog hearing a whistle, he doesn't hesitate to walk your way. "We can go star-gazing. Get pictures."

He nods. Comes to stand by you. Carries on walking, taking your hand as he does so. Sounds sleepy as he mumbles, "M'kay."

By the time you arrive back at the house a few minutes later, Jimin and Nabi are still nattering in the communal area. With your rooms being on different floors, and both of you desperately fighting alcohol-induced yawns, neither you nor Jeongguk can be bothered with the hassle of sharing a bed tonight.

You retire to separate rooms, and both hate it.

There's an emptiness, you think. One that only he can fill. The room is dark, but a little light sneaks in from the harbour, and the lamps that remain lit all night to keep boats away.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, it's your glitter that acts like harbour lights, you think. A warning to never get too close.

Jeongguk did it anyway.

Thoughts like these plague your mind as you toss and turn, failing to get comfy. There are enough pillows. The duvet is perfectly nice. The mattress is fine. There's just something missing.

Someone .

But fuck- you don't need him. Depending on a man is something you never want to do, especially not for something as simple as falling asleep.

Even though you're trying to rid your brain of his presence, you find yourself thanking him as you hop out of bed and head to your suitcase. If there's one thing that will exhaust you, it's a good orgasm.

Given how sleepy his eyes were prior to you saying your farewells, all puffy and a little bloodshot, you don't imagine he'll hear a peep - and if he does, it'll likely just become a strange addition to whatever bizarre dream he'll no doubt tell you he had in the morning.

Rummaging around a little, you look for that one final thing he ensured you added to the suitcase. Find some lingerie first that you definitely didn't add to the pile - the same ones you packed for Busan just to get a rise out of him - and scoff. Presumptuous mother fucker .

Eventually, you find your rabbit. A dildo-vibrator hybrid, it works wonders. The translucent black silicone is always a little cold to touch - never like the real thing - but it fills a hole, for lack of a better term. Does the job. Does things a cock can't do - but it can never make you feel like he does.

The house is quiet, now. Nabi and Jimin retired to their own beds a good quarter of an hour ago. You know that Jimin will be out like a light, and Nabi is the furthest room from yours. The only worry you have is Jeongguk beneath you - but so what? Nothing he hasn't heard before.

Still, you only dare turn the vibrator on to the lowest mode.

Wearing just your panties, Jeongguk's shirt that you'd stolen now discarded on the floor, you run the toy over your clothed cunt. Let the sensation overcome any other physical manifestation of your feelings.

It hums ever so quietly, a hushed moan trapped in your throat as you work your hips up into the vibration. Other-wordly in how it makes you feel, there's no point trying to keep dignified.

Ridding yourself of your panties, you lie on your back, legs spread. Tease your entrance with the head of the cock-shaped dildo. Sharply inhale as you press against your hole - but you're not ready, yet.

The feeling isn't enough.

You need thoughts too.

Thoughts of him. Of his body. Of the way he smiles whenever he sees you like this. How he'd tower over you. Line himself up. Press kisses to your lips. Down your throat. On your chest. How he'd take your nipples in his mouth, and suck them for hours if he could. How he'd tell you he's still an ass guy, even if sucking on your tits gets him so hard he could cum in 5 seconds flat whenever he does it.

Your dildo now sinks into your cunt with little resistance, the thoughts of Jeongguk seemingly enough to get you ready.

There's a slight burn. Friction. Evidence that you're not totally there yet. The alcohol has definitely affected it. Funny, how it never affects it when you're with Jeongguk. Have fucked him countless times after a few drinks with no issues.

No reason to have them now. The only difference is him.

It frustrates you.

You don't need a man. You don't .

Groaning, you rid yourself of your toy. Flick the switch to make sure it's off. Toss it down beside you and let it land with a thud on the mattress. Stare up at the ceiling and curse.

Reaching over for your phone, you're about to google methods of getting to sleep when you're both horny and unable to get yourself off, when a message pings through.

You wince before you even read it - and when you do read it? Well, you think you'd quite like to simply die.

JK: Round two?

Admittedly, it's better receiving it from him than it would from Jimin - but it's still mortifying to know that he could hear it.

You must still be drunk. It's the only thing that justifies such reckless abandon for your grace.

And it's also the excuse you'll use for the fact you send him back a message that simply says: My door is open.

Not even a minute later, Jeongguk says nothing as he enters your room. He's in his underwear and a shirt, but as soon as he shuts the door, he grabs the material by the nape of his neck, and rids himself of it. Is just in his Calvins, now. Just how you like him.

It's not like you greet him either, a blanket pulled up to cover your dignity, but you're both aware there's a heaviness to the air between you. Something unspoken. Something that will remain unsaid, because you're both scared to lose the weight of your own feelings.

Instead, he just grips the back of the chair by the vanity unit and turns it around. Sits. Is arrogant in how he looks at you, just like he was that night you got far too acquainted with his pull-up bar and favourite tie.

In his hand is something you can't quite make out.

Something about his gaze, and how it holds your own, makes it hard for you to speak. You fear you'll say the wrong thing. Fear he'll look away. Turns out, just as he suspects, you do have new fears - and they all pertain to him, or moreso a lack of him.

You play it safe. Nod towards his hand. Whisper, "Watcha got?"

"You said we shouldn't fuck," he reminds you with an arrogant smirk. Knows that this will drive you fuckin' insane. "Thought I should come prepared."

It's only when he holds it up that you realise he's holding a fucking fleshlight . Clear. Silicone.

"Holy shit," you breathe out. Have never actually seen one in the flesh - no pun intended - let alone see a man bold enough to use one in front of you.

"Remember how we used to watch each other get off?" he asks, unashamed - or just drunk. Doesn't wait for a reply. Just says, "Let's do that."

The way he's so convicted in his wants and desires - how he knows the parameters of your arrangement, yet bends the rules to fit his fucking whims - will never fail to amaze you. He's determined to get you coming undone, and that in and of itself is so unbelievably hot.

His body is hard to make out from the low lighting, but the ridges of his toned chest have you salivating. There's a sheen to his fingers - lube, you assume for the toy - and it spreads over his abdomen as he softly traces his fingertips over his body. Lightly touches himself. His small, hard nipples. Rasps a little.

Arousal, for him, isn't just simply his cock getting hard. He likes to engage his senses. S'why he likes fucking you so much. You're a treat for all five of 'em.

You're too far away to touch. To taste. To smell - and oh god, that's the one that gets him the most. Just wants to bury the tip of his prettily pointed nose in your hair, down the valley of your breasts, in your cunt. Pheremones are a wonderful thing, and the effect they have on Jeongguk can only be likened to a Class A substance. Pupils dilated, body and mind disconnected, he needs the high you give.

For now, he settles on sight and sound. Smirks when you gasp at the sight of what he's doing.

Eyes fixated on him, you watch on as Jeongguk grips the fleshlight and pushes it down ever so gently. He barely penetrates it. Just the tip. Grunts a little. Pulls it back up, so that the crown of his cock is kissing the entrance.

God, how you wish it was you. Want to feel that first intrusion of his cock inside you. How big he is; how well he always stretches you out. So intensely focused on him, you don't even really realise how you're toying with your chest.

Despite the shrouded darkness of the room, enough light is funnelling in through the curtains for you to clearly see his movements; his expressions.

Jaw slack, Jeongguk doesn't give a fuck about looking dignified. He knows there's no point. Doesn't want to pretend like you don't arouse him beyond the point of sane thoughts.

He thinks the same could be said for you.

"C'mon, B," he begs quietly. "Get yourself off for me."

His breathy moan as he pushes further into the toy only encourages you to do the same. Matching his desperately soft moans, you sink your rabbit inside yourself, and find any earlier resistance is gone. You don't need a man, but fuck . Jeon Jeongguk is an exception to the rule.

Filling yourself, it's nothing like the sensation that comes with Jeongguk - the warmth of his skin, the scent of his aftershave, the weight of his body on top of yours - but it is unlike anything else you've ever known as he looks across to you.

There's a smirk breaking on his lustful expression, sinful satisfaction that has you moaning as you penetrate yourself with the toy that he insisted you bring. Not much introspection is given to how you're pleasuring yourself; too focused on the way he's pleasuring himself.

Knees closing together, toes digging into the sheets, your hand is trapped between your thighs. It's a more natural state of being, you find. Gets your walls a little tighter. Feels better, even if it doesn't look as good. Whining a little as you build a pace, you're so wet that you can hear the way you're fucking yourself - and so can Jeongguk.

The lewd sounds of his cock fucking into the toy he's using slow a little. His laboured breaths become controlled. He's easing off the gas - not hitting the break, but definitely doing something.

"Since when have you been shy?" He teases you a little breathlessly. Holds the fleshlight to the base of his cock. Fills it. Keeps himself warm, laboured grunts catching in his throat as he stops himself from reaching the point of release. "Wider, baby," he pleads. "Nice and wide for me."

Pulling your knees apart, you display yourself like a fuckin' exhibition, and Jeongguk knows that you've art for him, indefinitely. Nights at galleries are pale in comparison to the way you put yourself on display for him.

How could he ever appreciate a painting unless it's the same pretty colours of your needy cunt? If the brush strokes don't match the hair that falls over your eyes as your lips part, soft moans escaping them? Music, too, for that matter is ruined for him. You sound better than anything he's ever heard on the radio.

"There you go," he husks as he begins to work the fleshlight up his shaft again. Watches you with no intent of ever looking away. He's fixed to you like glue. "That's it. Fuck. Yeah. That's it."

But you won't be content until he really is stuck to you like glue. Want him so close it's impossible to tell when he ends and you begin; impossible to comprehend how you ever could part.

He's not the only one with demands. Desires. You want him just as much as he wants you.

"Come closer," you say quietly.

"Yeah?" he teases. "Say please, baby."

"Fuck you."

He laughs, now. Finds something about your insatiable need to have him near, and your inability to play nicely at times, just so endearing.

"Cute," he smirks. Knows it'll probably irritate you. Patronises a little more, 'cause he's vying for you to have a reason to shut him up. Thinks maybe you'll choose kisses as a way to shush him. Hopes you will. "Needy, aren't you? Pretty, needy baby."

"Shut up," you laugh, the smile on your lips a product of his compliments, even if he is being a little bitch. Holding your hand out, you encourage him to join you on the bed. Give him what he wants, 'cause you know it'll give you what you want. " Please ."

You don't take your eyes off him as he stands, cock still snug in the toy that he'd really rather swap with your hands. Makes him a little shy.

"Stop looking at me, perv," Jeongguk says in a childish way that really doesn't fit the profile of a man like him - built like a god - as he's pleasuring himself for you for your satisfaction.

"Why?" you ask, pleased and purry now that the ball is in your court. "A little shy, there?"

"Fuck you," he smirks, coming to sit between your legs.

Your illicit thoughts of Jeongguk are always so much tamer than he actually is. You never know what's actually gonna come out of his mouth, and it makes fucking him so much more fun to indulge in.

It's not like he means to be vulgar. His brain is just too distracted by how fucking good this shit feels. His lips get loose and so does the concept of dignity. Has him mumbling all kinds of shit.

"God, I'll fuckin' die if you don't let me fuck you," he whines, one of his hands stroking up your thigh while the other wanks the toy up and down his thick cock. He's slow in his movements, wrist flicking gently, not wanting to himself up too much. Wants you to get there first.

Shaking your head, you knead one of your tits for his viewing pleasure as you continue to fuck yourself with the toy he insisted you bring.

"Told me to bring this for a reason, Gguk," you remind him. "No fucking."

"But you're so fucking wet," he moans. Wants to touch you. Know he can't.

You nod - then decide to cut him a little slack. Reach for the hand of his on your thigh. Bring it to the base of the rabbit, and let him take the reins.

"Fuck," he curses, as he pushes it up into you. Holds it in place. Flicks the switch that makes the little rabbit ears vibrate. Angles it just right so that they're fluttering against your swollen clit, the pleasure incomparable to anything else.

"Oh, shit," you whine as your body begins to writhe.

"You like this so much, don't you?" He confirms, and is pleased when you whine and nod your head. He pulls the toy back slightly, but angles it so that ears stay pressed against you before he fills you again. The lewd sound of it filling you is enough to drive anyone insane, he thinks.

"Pretty cunt," he says fondly, then leans forward a little. Gathers spit in his mouth, then slowly lets it drip onto your pussy. He knows you well. Has it landing just north of your clit. Grinds the ears up a little, and spreads it across your already messy pussy. "Pretty girl."

Gently fucking the dildo into you, Jeongguk can't help but feel a little jealous. He wants to know how you feel. How warm you are. How tight you'll get when you cum.

Instead, all he can do is watch as pleasure takes hold. You whine his name - "Yeah, baby?" - and push your head back into the pillows. Toes pointing, your legs begin to shake, and Jeongguk knows better than to change anything about what he's doing. Keeps the speed. Lets the ears flick against the clit that he so badly wants in his mouth.

"That's it," he keens. "All over this cock. Cum all over it."

Oh, how you wish it was his instead.

Because even though you do come, it doesn't satisfy you fully. Not how his cock does. Still amazing - but Jeongguk has ruined you. Is the only thing capable of making you cum how you deserve to cum. His cock, his mouth, his hands - doesn't matter what. Just matters that it's him.

Tapping his wrist as you shake a little, you tell him you're good. In all honesty, all you want now is to make him feel good.

Shutting off the vibrations, Jeongguk keeps you plugged. Is scared that you'll both let your stupid desires get the better of you, otherwise.

You're thinking the exact same thing - so reach down for his fleshlight. Want him to feel as good as you he made you feel.

Holding it flush against the mound of your pussy, you'll give him the next best thing to fucking you. A little simulation, almost. Basically the exact same.

Except it's not, 'cause Jeongguk is far too aware of the fact that he doesn't get the luxury of your cunt.

"Fuck it," you instruct him. "Fuck it like you fuck me."

There's something erotic about the way Jeongguk lines himself up with it at your request. Zero hesitation. Wanks himself, once, twice. Presses his tip against the tight entrance, and looks at you as he pushes into it. Grunts. Fills it. Begins to thrust a little. Picks a rhythm. Finds the position is perfect for letting his balls slap against your swollen clit, and is obsessed with the way you whine for him.

With you holding his toy in place, his hands are free - so they snake around your thighs and pull you closer with every thrust of his hips, as if he really is fucking you.

"Is it good?"

"Yeah. It's fuckin' good," he nods, leaning forward, resting an elbow on either side of your head as he continues to pump into the toy. "You're better, but it's good."

There's a simplicity to the way Jeongguk describes how he feels. It's straightforward. Honest.

"Pretend it's me," you encourage. "Is it tight? Wet?"

He nods. Practically filled the thing with lube before he ventured up to your room.

"Real fuckin' tight. You're wetter, though. I miss that. Fuck . Just once, baby. Once ," he begs, forgetting the fact that he very much knows fucking you is a bad idea. Presses wet, insatiable kisses to the underside of your jaw. Can barely string his words together. "Let me - fuck - feel you. Please ."

Funny, how his fear of rejection doesn't seem to exist when he's a few strokes away from an orgasm.

Or maybe it just doesn't exist around you. Either or. At the moment, they're one and the same.

Shaking your head, you pull him in for a soft meeting of your lips, his tongue sinking into your mouth, because he needs to be inside you in at least some capacity if he can't have your pussy. Hips thrashing in a bid to chase his high, Jeongguk knows you're not gonna give him what he wants. Knows that this is the closest he'll get.

Plausible deniability when your friends - or moreso just Jimin - ask, did you fuck?

Well, no, you'll be able to say, without lying. We didn't.

But as your body is moved in tandem with the timing of his thrusts, Jeongguk's grunts vibrate into your mouth as his body begins to tense, you know that you can't really describe this as anything other than fucking.

"Cum," you tell him - and then realise you still want it to be you he cums over. Cums for. Cums because of.

But Jeongguk takes that permission and runs with it before you can make any further bad decisions. Whimpers as he lets the walls that have been keeping him restrained come crashing down. His teeth find your neck as he grunts against your skin; his breath hot, the cum he's unloading in the silicone fuck toy even more so.

"That's it," you encourage, legs wrapping around his stuttering hips. "Fill that cunt for me, baby. Fill it up like it's mine."

He nods, his laboured breaths lost in your hair as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, as the final few spurts of his desire pump into the toy. The weight of his body is heavy on top of you, rising and falling with every contraction of his lungs.

Stroking his hair, you press a kiss to the top of his hair, and let out a soft giggle. It's too soon for post-nut clarity, and yet Jeongguk already doesn't wanna look you in the eyes after nutting in a fucking fleshlight.

Figuring as much, you make sure to praise him in the same way he usually does for you. "So hot, Gguk. So good. So cute ."

He smiles, now. Laughs a little, body spent. Grumbles into your neck. "Fuck off, B."

"What?" you tease, knowing that he's embarrassed. He needn't be. It's just a sex toy. He's the one who brought it along with him - surely he didn't think you'd have enough willpower to resist him over the weekend? Surely he had been anticipating this? "It's yours . We both know you've fucked it, like, a hundred times."

"Fuck offffff," he moans again, rolling off of you, the fleshlight slipping somewhere between you both now that no one is keeping it held in place. "That never happened."

Turning onto your front, you scoff. Reach down the bed to find the offending object. You want it for a reason - mainly 'cause you've never seen them up close, and are curious about how much it actually looks like a pussy, but also 'cause you have an idea that will make Jeongguk equal parts needy and disgusted, which honestly is what you're aiming for. You like it when he's conflicted over his desire. Makes his self-denial and subsequent weaknesses so much hotter.

"Put it down," he whines, as you bring it to the pillows. His forearm is covering his eyes, a pretty smile on his darling lips, piercing catching in the jetty lights that are intruding on your privacy.

You don't do what he tells you to do. Instead, you rest on your elbows, tits cushioning your body as you inspect it a little.

"Huh," you hum in surprise. Admittedly, it's not too far off. The silicone tube is clear, with ridges and grooves in the central canal for his pleasure, but the entrance is particularly inspired. Despite the clarity of the material, the shape isn't too far off from your own, especially when it's all pretty and puffy and aroused for him. There's a sheen to it; evidence of Jeongguk's lube, as a trail of his white cum leaks from the entrance.

Glancing over to him, you find his eyes on you. A little further up in the bed, he's looking down, and yet you're in the position of power. Whatever you do will only serve to make him want you more.

He doesn't tell you to put it down again. Just waits, breathlessly, to see what you'll do. Already has an idea. Knows what he wants to see, but won't ask for it 'cause it feels almost too vulgar.

But you know him well. Knows what gets him off. Know that even despite the fact he's just finished, there are ways to get him hard again - and as your tongue slowly flicks against the desecrated entrance, you know that this is one of them.

"Fuck," he husks quietly, not even meaning to do so. Lets one of his hands reach over to squeeze at the flesh of your ass as you get a little deeper with your exploration. Lick into it. Collect his cum on your tongue.

It's been a while since you've eaten pussy, too busy with Jeongguk to seek anyone else out, but it's like riding a bike. You never forget - and truth be told, you're not really doing anything that requires too much thought. You're putting on a show. Eating his cum, 'cause he deserves it.

His grip on your ass is hard, as he grunts, "You're fucking filth, b. So dirty ."

You giggle, pleased with the effect it's having on him - but then he's pulling you across to straddle his lap, toy discarded on your side of the bed as man handles you into position on top of his body.

Jeongguk pulls you in for a meeting of lips, teeth, tongue; all-consuming. Doesn't care to be neat. Doesn't care to be sweet. Wants to taste himself on your tongue - and when he does? Oh, he's celestial .

He moans. Curses. Accepts it when you hold his jaw, and encourage him to open his mouth. Nods as your lips purse. Lets his tongue flatten. Whines as you spit his cum onto his tongue - then decides you've had enough time in the driver's seat. Sinks his tongue back into your mouth; swaps his cum with you until it sort of just becomes obsolete.

He's not gonna fuck you, but he does get you positioned on top of his cock, pussy spread over his thick length as he ruts up against you. One hand on your hips, the other clasps your hands behind your back. Looks you dead in the eye as you whine for him.

Husks, "You're only in control when I let you be in control."

And then to prove his point, he gets you grinding against him until the point of another climax. Gets your body shaking as your pussy rubs over the top of his cock, without it ever penetrating you. The sensation is euphoric; skin on skin, just how you like it.

"That's it," he praises as your orgasm washes over you. Holds you as you come down a little breathlessly. Teases. "So cute. You love to cum for me, don't you, B?"

It's your turn to tell him to fuck off, now.

Rolling off him, both toys fall from your side of the bed and onto the floor with a soft thud. Neither of you cares for the noise. Jimin is out like a light, and Nabi is too far away to have really heard anything.

Breathlessly, you both look up at the ceiling. Jeongguk swears he can see stars - but it might just be the hangover that's already kicking in.

As he holds his hand out, you laugh. Give him a high five. "Nice work."

But you both agree that it never happened. Snuggle up, and adamantly stand by the fact you never fucked. That technicality is still true. You also didn't both become all weak and needy for each other in the most pathetic of ways - or so you tell yourselves.

"We're super drunk," Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, as if you aren't both totally sober after that. Hugs you close to him, your back pressed to his chest. Doesn't even consider return to his room. He's home, now. Would make no sense to leave. "Won't even remember it in the morning."

And the way that you behave together come sunlight, without a care in the world, laughing and joking, both together and at each other's expense, it would seem like things are totally normal.

You're able to separate who you are after dark and the people you are during the sunlight hours. Can look at him, without feeling the need to jump his bones (although when you see him cooking breakfast, your eyes do linger for a little too long on the veins in his arms as he flicks the pan).

None of your friends are aware of your illicit affairs; how Jeongguk worships your body like a devout follower of a religion only he knows.

None of them... and also all of them.

They all see the way he looks at you first when he makes a joke to check that you're laughing. They're all aware of the way you ask him what he's gonna be wearing that morning when deciding what you're also gonna wear. Small, inconsequential encounters that are exclusive between the pair of you, never to be shared with anyone else.

Well, almost no one.

"Is it just me, or did you-" Nabi begins, eyes on the pair of you as she neatens up the sitting room with Jimin, but is almost instantly interrupted.

"Yep."

"Last ni-"

"Yep."

"They-"

"Yep."

Turning up her nose, she shudders a little. "Gross."

"Yep," Jimin nods. Thought he'd escaped ever hearing you and Jeongguk at it, but woke up needing water in the night. Ended up needing a punch to the face five minutes later when he realised the squeak of the floorboards wasn't from him walking around, but from your bedroom instead. Heard things in the minutes that followed that'll his nightmares forever .

"Are they, like... a thing?" she tries to clarify, but Jimin knows no more than anyone else.

"No one knows. Don't even think they know."

Which is true.

But you're currently looking at Jeongguk's big brown Bambi eyes while he explains the rules of boxing to you out on the front lawn. He wraps up your hands to 'train' you, and you giggle as he jokes with you about how you'll be a champ in no time, a stupidly love-drunk smile on your lips.

Quite unexpectedly - though not really at all, when you think about it - you realise you know .

You know, you know, you know.

How you feel; how much you really do like him; how you want things to be.

You just know.

Simply, and completely; Jeongguk can never be just a friend. Not now. Not anymore.

And it terrifies you.