#in the beginning he probably tried to just not sing along

[bloodxhound]

Can your muse do running cadences?

Yes! Since he served in the military for a few years he had to learn and do military cadences during marching or running exercises frequently. You’re not going to catch him doing them nowadays though. He never enjoyed cadence calls back then; he would’ve much preferred to go at his own pace during runs, alone, without the fanfare and fuss.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Rockstar Girlfriend

Older!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader

wc: 3.7 K summary: You're Damian's girlfriend, and his family wants to visit your concert warnings: none, no y/n used, established relationship a/n: I often daydream about this scnenario, so here you go. divider from @super-marvel-dc , just the stuff I needed ! enjoy

Tuning your guitar does get on your nerves on tours, especially right before you need to go on stage and the E-string seems to snap any moment. Your earpiece counts the few last beats down before the lights go off and you have to be on stage, finally getting the guitar tuned for the show. The supporting band got off stage a few mintues ago, hyping you and your bandmates up for the show, since you are the main act. This band is the most sweetest you‘ve ever met, even when they play a little softer music than you.

Just in time, you get to your mic stand and can only see some flashlights from phones in the crowd before you and your band play the first chord of the opening song. Ear-deafening shouts and cheers errupt from the crowd, having to focus on staying in the rythm, also to begin singing on the right time.

The lightshow of the stage gives the crowd an even more beautiful and energetic view, most of them singing along the first words of the song while some record with their phones. It seems like you‘re singing to a see of people, not able to recognise this many faces or even identify some with the lights flickering to the beat of the music, having to focus on multiple things at the same time anyway. But one thing is that you are sure of. It‘s that your boyfriend should be here, most likely somewhere in the front rows. As you continue to play and sing, you‘re intently watching the crowd on the first rows, trying to make out where he is. It is nearly impossible though, the lightshow making it less possible to actually recognise anyone from the stage.

You give up after a moment and focus on performing, jumping around lightly at the parts where you don‘t need to sing and can have fun. It seems like the viewers also have a lot of fun with your music, seeing some mosh-pits form further in the back and middle. You had trouble believing it at first when you saw people file out of the hall with your first few concerts, that there are some rowdy and elder people who enjoy your music. They‘re probably the same ones in the pit right now. Good thing Damian is probably at the front, he would‘ve seriously injured people on accident.

Your band is two songs in, but the set list still has twenty songs left, promising for a long night. Damian is indeed by the front rows, standing among other hardcore fans who seem too desperate for his taste. But who is he to judge, he tries to make it to every concert you guys announce and play near by. Always getting some kind of merch by the merch stands before the show, small stickers or patches, you name it; he has it.

During a more heavy song, you engange with the crowd as usual, telling them to part the crowd for the up-coming breakdown. Of course, the crowd does a good job at that, some people in the front and back just watching the show and crowd while the band continues to play.

The breakdown, the most heaviest part of the song, start playing and the people create a ‚Wall of Death‘, it looking satisfying from your view. Your bassist does most of the screaming vocals on the extra mic stand, getting to play the thrilling chords on your guitar while watching the crowd have fun.

Finally, you meet eyes with Damian. He grins proudly, wearing a shirt with your band logo on it. He gives you a thumbs up, seemingly proud and happy to support you on one of your bigger perfomances. Normally, you play at smaller stages, but the support band and your new support and love from fans made this possible to happen. It‘s a sight to see, knowing all these people like the stuff you‘re creating for your own enjoyment and actively support your band because they want more of your music.

You‘re halfway through your setlist now, not being nervous at all now as you get used to the feeling fairly quickly. It‘s always during the middle of the set when it is time for a small break, getting to drink some water while engaging with the crowd and entertaining them. And who would your bandmates be if they wouldn‘t mess around with the other mic while you talk, making the crowd laugh and record the interaction with your band. After the joksters finally lock in, it‘s time to perform the last half of the set list. The crowd really does give their best on having fun, never having seen so many mosh pits in one of your concerts before.

The show comes to an end, being sweaty and worn out after the perfomance but you can‘t leave without throwing some guitar picks and drumming sticks to the crowd, a lot of them being happy over it and catching them.

Lastly, you could finally leave for the backstage and into your private room to get unready and settle down into your own respective homes.

»Was your lovey-dovey boyfriend here again?« Your drummer asks while drying his hair off with a towel, always talking about your boyfriend as if he would take him from you. In a friendly, funny way, of course.

»Yeah, somewhere in the front row. Why?«

You answer back while taking off your make up in front of a mirror, glancing behind your shoulder at him.

»I just saw him too. Seemed like he was wearing our merch!«

He tells you excitedly with a big grin, making sure to get his hair dry from his sweat.

»Yeah, he definitely wore our merch.« You nod back as your face is bare again, walking over to your bag at the couch. Your bandmates seem to giggle and mostly joke a bit around with how cheesy your boyfriend is, being used to their shenanigans by now. You settle down on the couch for a moment, your feet and legs aching from standing and performing for almost an hour tonight, having been preparing and helping the technicians with setting up the lightshow and stage this afternoon, since you feel bad for them doing all this for your band.

Eventually, you make your way outside of the arena to meet your boyfriend, having your bag over your shoulder while the staff is taking care of the rest. He is standing by the back door, right where you walked out of, greeting him with a tight hug.

»God, I‘m sweaty, I probably stink so bad...«

Damian doesn‘t even budge and keeps you in his arms, a soft expression on his face.

»So what? You were amazing up there. As always.«

He shrugs and doesn‘t seem to want to let go of you yet, swaying together from side to side which makes you both smile at the other.

Damian walks you home, ending up carrying you once you mention about your feet hurting. There‘s something deeply affectionate in the way he holds and carries you in his arms, not leaving room for any arguments about it.

The night ends with him dropping you off by your home, exchanging some fleeting kisses before he is forced to leave for patrol with the others.

----

The Wayne Mane, 11:26 PM

»Are you not going to explain why you‘re late this time?« Bruce gruff voice calls out once Damian joins the rest on the rooftop, changed in his suit and ready to patrol finally.

»He was at his girlfriends concert. They had a show nearby today.« Tim snitches, making it short but also making Damian glare at him even harder.

»Is that true?«

His father questions again and awaits his answer, receiving a nod as Damian looks at him finally.

»Yes, I was at her show. Bought a shirt.«

Batman simply sighs out but doesn‘t seem annoyed by it for more than five seconds.

»Where was it this time?« He asks with rather more curiousity, making Damian state the name of the city, having driven back by train with you together to drop you off safely.

The conversation doesn‘t last long as they begin to patrol, Damian having a bit of trouble hearing at first, still used to the loud music from earlier. The patrol ends up being as usual, no serious troubles.

----

Next morning at the Manor seems to be chaotic once again, some voices coming from the kitchen while Bruce is sipping on a cup of coffee with a newsletter in hand.

»Why can‘t we ever join when you‘re going out with her? She‘s so nice and fun to talk to, it‘s unfair!«

Dick complains from the kitchen as he prepares some toast for himself, Damian sitting by the kitchen island with a cup of tea in hand.

»If you wouldn‘t try to disturb their dates, maybe he would have her come over more frequently.«

Tim counters as he is at the kitchen island as well, working at his laptop. The eldest son groans dramatically, defending himself from the obvious truth.

»I‘m not trying to disturb them, just trying to talk and see how it‘s going...«

»Definitely invading their privacy.«

It seems like Dick still wants to spend more time all together with you and the family, but it‘s clear that you don‘t have much time now with your small tour going on and them being vigilantes.

»I would also like to see her more often, but you‘ve got to understand she has her own duties, just like us.«

Alfred chimes in as he walks into the kitchen, preparing more tea as he talks. The discussion is interrupted as Bruce finally walks in, interrupting the complains of Dick and mean comments from Damian.

»Why don‘t we visit one of her concerts? We‘ve never been to one before.«

It is really bizarre for him to suggest something like this, especially since he seems to need to work a lot lately. Maybe he has finally gone mad?

At the silence he receives, he continues, seeing the bewildered looks from his children.

»I‘m simply saying we never saw her perform. It can‘t be that bad, can it?«

Cass, who just happens to stand by the door studies the others, not being against it herself. She raises her hand with a nod, seemingly agreeing with the idea. Damian notices, and the rest does as well, making Jason speak up finally.

»She does rock and metal, right?«

»Yes, but — «

Damian really doesn‘t want the rest to tag along to the next concert you give in town, knowing it will mostly be embarrassing and they will probably get spotted more easily by reporters or simple fans.

But before he could finish his sentence, everyone raises their hand lightly, even Alfred being okay with the idea.

»Are you kidding me?« He sighs out, being clearly overpowered as the plan is settled.

The Wayne‘s will be at your next concert.

----

Your bandmates almost freak out once you tell them the news, Damian having called you and sheepishly admitted it, claiming it‘s his fault. Clearly, no one is upset. Actually, everyone seems to be freaking out for all the good reasons.

Now it‘s time to prepare for the show this evening, mostly texting with Damian and finally getting to prepare after getting teased by your bandmates once more.

You watch people arrive by the parking lot, seeing how many people already are inside in the arena with some drinks in hand, the show beginning in about half an hour. But you can‘t watch for much longer, getting dragged to the backstage to tune your guitar and warm up for the show. The supporting band plays first just like before, hyping each other up again.

"Are you there already? Please warn them about the supporting band, don't want them to get confused."

You text to Damian, hoping they are at least in the parking lot already and ready to watch the show.

"We got here an hour ago, saved some seats. I'll tell them about it."

He responds back fairly quickly, making you assume they're in the front row if they got in so early. Time goes by and the show starts, the support band starting their 45 minutes set before you come on stage and play your own set list.

As the other times, the band starts with more softer songs, getting progressively more heavy, but still not as heavy as your songs. Bruce stays standing beside Damian, not used to rock shows, but he clearly respects it and is just here out of curiousity and wants to support his 'almost-daughter-in-law' in some way. Dick seems to enjoy himself, even when this isn't his usual type of music. He is mostly fascinated by the enthusiastic crowd and how popular your band seems to be, even when you're about nineteen by now. Perks of starting young, he guesses.

Jason seems to be rather unimpressed by the show, claiming he expected some heavier stuff. But this is just the supporting band anyway, so Damian doesn't mind arguing over the loud music. Cass and Tim simply watch, them both having informend themselves before joining the show tonight. But they do seem to be rather amused by some fans. The flashing lights from the lightshow seems to amaze Cass the most though, being almost captivated by how pretty the lights shine and work on stage.

Eventually, the band goes off stage, meeting your band backstage and tells you all about the Wayne family being there, having forgotten to tell them earlier about it.

Now that it's your turn to perform, you feel more nervous than at other times. Usually, you get nervous just before the show, but it fades once you get to play the first few chords and riffs, the cheering form the crowd spurring you on even more.

This time it's different and the bassist seems to notice of it. She walks up to you, trying to hype you up and give you some motivational words, but they do little to calm your nerves down. It's too late anyway, being called up on stage by the staff. You quickly hop on stage with the rest, lights being turned off and the anticiaption rises. Your heartbeat quickens in your chest, hearing the happy crowd even with your earpiece on. The first song starts to play, strumming the intro on your guitar while doing your best to focus on getting the notes right and not play too fast.

The lights turn back on once you start to sing, as usual confident and smooth. In the back of your head you are still thinking about Damians whole family being here, not able to ignore the heart pounding heavily in your ears while you perform. You curse yourself inwardly for still being nervy, hating how new this feels, even though it's nothing new at all.

Continuing with the show, the song progresses into more heavy riffs and up beat tempo, getting a rich mix of an energetic and hearty sound. You get a smooth transition onto the next song, pushing through your slight nervousness to perform the second song with even more passion. As there are less singing parts, you get to jump around the stage a little and let go of the skittish energy inside you. From another perspective, it just looks like you're having fun.

Jason seems more impressed now, furrowing his brows lightly as he bops his head along the music lightly. Dick seems to completely lose it though, jumping with the other fans along and getting lost in the crowd eventually. Bruce stays stoic, focussing his eyes on you as he watches how you perform. You seem more alive and vibrant on stage, never having really seen you this bouncy before. Often times, when you came over, you seemed to be just a little shy but very polite. Here, you still seem to be a good soul, but a lot less shy. And that in front of probably over six hundered people.

Playing and performing the songs seem to get easier with time, not able to focus your eyes on specific people in the crowd, but it's probably better this way. Finally, you reach the half of the set list, not being nervous or anxiuos anymore. Well, you are a bit nervous since your bandmates promised to not do any embarressing stuff on stage, not entirely trusting them though.

As soon as you had a few gulps of water, you get back on your spot in the middle of the stage, hand resting on your hip while the other holds you guitar by neck for the meantime. It's time to entertain the crowd.

»A round of applause for our vocalist and her breathtaking perfomance!«

Of course, your bassist said something before you with his own extra mic stand. Nevertheless, the crowd fires up the atmosphere, getting loud shouts and cheers from them. Cass has to put her hands over her ears from how loud it is, all the while Damian smirks proudly and claps cheerfully.

»Thank you! Did you have to embarrass me?« You finally speak into your own mic as you turn to face Marcus, the bassist, earning a few chuckles from the large crowd.

Meanwhile, Jason has to physically hold Dick back from screaming something along the lines of 'We love you!' and 'You're my favourite band!' to you and fluster you more.

»Okay, ignore these goofballs for now. I need you all to part the sea for the next song. Shit's about to get heavy.« You have actually forgotten that Damian's whole family is here, realising only a moment later and immediately search for them in the crowd. You spot them being located more by the right side of the crowd, but still fairly in the middle and at the front row. Dick waves at you, earning a sheepish smile from you before focussing back on the show.

The lights turn off again, getting a countdown and metronome in your earpiece once more as the large crowd does their work and parts into two. Bruce is very confused, not getting what's about to happen. While it's not too loud he decides to ask.

»What's this about, Damian?« He only receives a sly smile from his youngest son, hoping he gets an answer.

»Are you ready for a Wall of Death?« You exclaim through the mic, earning many cheers and shouts back. But you aren't satisfied and ask again, getting an even louder response. Now Bruce knows what it's called but he has absolute zero idea what's about to happen.

Jason knows though and makes sure Cass is not in the way, not wanting to see dead bodies. The lights switch to red as usual, matching the rythm of your song again while the fans wait for the breakdown to drop. The bassist, Marcus, does most of the singing — or vocal screaming — in the song, leaving you to jump around and play some nasty riffs.

The parted crowd immediatly rushes at eachother, the Wall of death happening. Bruce watches with light fascination, not keeping his eye off the people as if to make sure nothing goes wrong. Your band goes on though, the songs playing easily and with passion as the show goes on.

Jason seems to enjoy it more himself, headbanging more to the music while he watches you perform, and for once doesn't regret going out with his family. As for the rest of the family... they aren't into this type of music, but stay until the end anyway and mostly take pride on watching you perform the songs out with your band on stage. ----

Going off stage after throwing some guitar picks and drumming sticks into the crowd, you feel exhausted again. Feet hurting, fingers and wrists needing some stretching and your shoulders ache lightly from the strap of the guitar. Your voice is needs a break for tonight as well. But ignoring that, you take your sweaty make up off and go about the same routine as usual, before you can take a proper shower back at home. Oh, right. You're sleeping over by Damians house this time.

Walking out of the building, you see the Bat family waiting by their limousine for you. Damian approaches you once he sees you, pulling you into a hug before he kisses your cheek.

»You did great. As always.« He tells you as every night, it still sounding genuine and loving when he says it.

»Thanks... what do they think?«

»I didn't ask. But they seem okay.« Damian answers you, earning a soft groan from you, both from exhaustion and slight nervousness of their opinions. He seems to sense it and chuckles lightly, rubbing your back gently with his hand.

»Stop making out, we've got places to be!« What seems to be Jason calls out, interrupting the small kiss you shared just now.

With a small groan, he tags you along by the waist. Bruce greets you with a brief nod, not wasting any time to speak up.

»Good evening. When Damian said you have a band, I didn't expect it to be something like this.« In fact, he expected the worst the first time he found out about it, but never got to actually see what it's like until now. It makes Dick and Jason roll their eyes, even earning a brief annoyed look from Cass.

»The music was great, don't worry. I even got into one of those mosh pits. I would go again.« Dick interwhines, smiling goofily at you. He definitely had a good time.

»Me too. Loved the heavier songs.« Jason adds onto, getting slightly surprised by his positive feedback. Maybe they are just glad to have had some fun in a while, knowing they work hard to protect the city.

You exchange a few more words with them, sitting into the limousine beside Damian, who keeps his arm around your waist the entire time. He can sense your tiredness, as does the rest, but they keep talking about the show and what they liked the best. It's actually good they do so, not needing to talk so much. While quietly sitting beside Damian, you see that Cass has a pin of your band logo at her bag, getting a bit flustered and happy on the inside. You can't hold it for long though, being worn out after the long concert and doze off against your lovers shoulder before even arriving back to the Manor.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed reading it!!

←MASTERLIST

[ja3yun]

please a heeseung version for the 'how he is as a bf' i will literally sob my pants

you know i wil take any excuse to talk about my delusions involving my man so lets gaur! again, this will include some smut so mdni!!

jake vers. | sunghoon vers. | jay vers.

in the beginning, during the talking/dating stage, heeseung won't be clingy or overbearing. he will keep his distance and text you moreso than take you on dates. communication is important to him so i feel like this is a way to see if you can hold conversation. when you do go out on dates, he will be incredibly sweet and wholesome, i think he enjoys activity dates more than dinner/drinks so expect to have lots and lots of fun. these dates are important to him because where texting and phonecalls tell him about your communication, dates wpuld determine your vibe and connection

he has a very strong head on him and is very logical so i think he would set out with the intention to keep his feelings close to his chest but the purity of his heart and his desire to love would overrule that aspect of him. heeseung is a lover and piner so it wouldn't take long for him to fall in love with you but he won't admit it as soon as he feels it, he will wait for the right moment to make it special for you both. that being said, if he was really vibing with you and could see that you love him just the same, it could just blurt out in the middle of your date or at home (which he would curse himself for later on)

POSSESSIVE and knows it. when you're in a relationship, he is going to be protective of you, particularly when you are out together. he will make you walk on the inside of the pavement, hold onto your hand tightly when others are around, grab your waist to let you know that he is there and won't let go until he absolutely has to. heeseung would be so down bad for you in private but when there are other men around, it's even worse.

he would like his space though, he doesn't need you around him all the time so you would have a very relaxed relationship, lots of texts and calls but he doesn't need quality time all the time, he values being on his own or with his friends, quality time with them is just as important as quality time with you.

that being said, he will take you out with his friends to help you bond. he would prefer it if you got along with his mates, or at least tried to. when he goes out with them to the gaming cafe, he will invite you out but ofc, half way during the session he will have you sit on his lap, espacially if he is getting cocky with winning.

more under cut

the dates he takes you on are never spontaneous and always planned to ensure you have the BEST time. he takes your personality and likes into consideration each and every time, it's important to him that you feel valued and loved in the relationship and he knows sometimes with schedules or his need to relax on his own that it could come across as neglect, this man will do everything in his power to make sure you never think that way.

unlike the others, he would show you off. perhaps not in public until you are both settled but definitely everyone in the company knows about you. the reason i think this is because he wants you to be supportive of him, go to concerts, schedules, be his number one fan! there is nothing he loves more than a supportive partner, he needs a relationship that both of you are career driven so you can both be there for one another.

i think he loooves cuddles and staying in with you. not so much doing domestic stuff but just relaxing and in each others company is more than enough for him. he likes to watch movies and play games with you laying inbetween his legs or vice versa, randomly kisses you during adverts or loading screens, his hands are always on you when you're with one another privately, so its probably the best time to indulge in the little clinginess he shows.

will sing to you if you ask!! not full scale microphone and performance but soft luls of his favourite tracks to you while you're walking outside or in the house cleaning up. he is definitely the type of boyfriend to dance with you in the middle of the night, the fridge or dim lights from the living room being the perfect accent to the moment. he would absolutely nuzzle your nose and tell you everything he loves about you in these moments, words he says triggering another song to pop into his mind and twirl you around.

couples jewellery are a must, rings and earrings specifically. we all know he likes a singular earring on his ear, and you would absolutely have the other. the jewellery is a way to keep you with him at all times, particularly when he is on tour. he will wear them and subtlety touch them when he's performing love songs, imagining singing them directly to you

kisses: soft, romantic, subtle, passionate. he loves the feeling of your lips and how soft they are with his. he is obsessed with long, lingering kisses so he will hold you back from meetings or work to softly cradle your cheek and give you long pecks. if he knew he had time he would easily slip his tongue in your mouth and try for a full scale makeout session. he loves to taste you and have you completely at his mercy, making you moan into his mouth and whimper when he pulls away. its all part of his possessive nature like he just loves to know you're his. he will also be a mess kissing, whispering sweet 'i love yous' and 'fuck' because he's vocal as fuck with everything he does.

bowchikawowow: he is a passionate man with lots of love and energy to offer. i see him as quite a horny person (tbh that might just be me being self indulgent) so, like jake, he is fucking you anywhere and everywhere he can. loves a quicky, will always be ready and prepared to pound you. sometimes he wants to go slow and sensual but you're just too delectable and he's too randy to wait. why fuck you slow when he can mske you cum multiple times by fucking you hard and fast. heeseung isn't primal with it, it's still filled with love and adoration, i'm thinking hardest he will do is soft-dom vibes but only if you bring it up first - he doesn't want to force you into anything you are uncomfy with. likes you on all fours and mirror sex the most. adores it when you call yourself his while his cock is inside you, could cum just at the words leaving your lips.

my man adores giving you aftercare, literally part of the process. if its a long, hot session, he's making sure you pee and shower, or at least will clean you up. he alresd has some form of vitimin water in the fridge waiting for you, vitimin because he sometimes wants a round two asap. when he takes you for a quicky in the office building or wherever, there isn't much he can do so instead of his pampering, he will kiss all over your face and murmer words of affection into your skin, never wanting to let you go.

again, these are my delusional opinions!! if you have other ideas let me know, i love to hear them <3 (and yes jay will be next)

[earthtooz]

x : LOVE OF A KIND :*+ﾟ

in which: kaiser needs to be reassured that you love him, even if it's just a fraction of how special you are to him.

warnings: 2.3k words, toothrotting fluff and minor angst, kaiser is intoxicated, mentions of alcohol and clubbing, insecure!kaiser, gn!reader, BAD WRITING and ooc!kaiser probably, established relationship, if this flops i will cry. here we love pathetic men.

a/n: fuck you @kruinka for birthing this. actually fuck you. that's the a/n. enjoy whatever this is!

it’s approximately 1am when your phone vibrates violently on the kitchen counter, disturbing the gentle, unrushed ambience of friday evening (or saturday morning) in your apartment. pressing the space bar of your laptop with a lot more force than necessary, the show you were watching pauses as you throw the blankets off you, the chill of the air seeping into your body with each step you take.

noticing the contact name, you accept the call readily, pressing the ‘speaker’ option. immediately, you hear the noise of club music, people singing along and indistinct chatter.

“hello?” you ask, directly into the microphone.

“y/n?” ness’s voice returns.

“hey, what’s up?”

“sorry for bothering you so late. were you about to go to bed?”

“no, actually, i was staying up. something the matter?”

“it’s kaiser,” the brunet-purple-haired boy tells you and your heart drops with anxiety, mind beginning to race with whatever your egotistical, narcissism-driven boyfriend could have got himself into.

probably tried to square up someone far more impressive, for all you know. did he break something? spit in someone’s drink?

“i-it’s nothing bad!” ness reassures, “he’s just asking for you.” 

oh. that’s not so terrible. “okay, but why?”

in the phone’s proximity, you can hear someone stumbling and muttering in the background. there’s an indistinct mumble of your name and ness confirming your presence on the other side of the phone, followed by an excited ‘really?’ from the mystery figure. you find comfort in the fact that you know it’s kaiser before the person even has to announce himself.

“sorry, he’s just asking for you… a lot,” the soccer player informs with a little hesitation.

before you can inquire further about it, kaiser’s voice echoes in the background. “let me talk to y/n!” he sounds faraway, but you can imagine his expression regardless from just the desperately excited tone he has. 

“i can tell,” you chuckle. 

“give me the phone, ness,” kaiser demands. there’s a sentence of complaint from the midfielder and some (aggressive) rustling before you can hear your boyfriend loud and clear. “baby!” he slurs.

“hello, kaiser,” you say, grinning stupidly at the sound of his voice.

“hi beautiful. are you well?” the blond sounds a little clearer now and the music seems to have diminished a little. he must have retreated to a ‘quieter’ corner of the club. 

“as well as i can be at home. what about you?”

“i’m great now that i’m with you,” he murmurs, sounding more melancholy than usual, just ever so slightly. you dismiss the shift by blaming it on the alcohol, but there’s a tug at your gut that tells you that the drinks aren’t the sole reason.

you melt a little. “shouldn’t you be dancing or something? why are you calling me?”

“i love calling you,” he whines. “please don’t hang up.”

“if you’re sure… i’m not too sure that a club is the best place to call though.” 

“i don’t care. so long as i’m with you, anything’s fine.”

you huff, tapping your fingers on the counter, trying not to let his sweetened words get to you. “really though, you should be going back to partying and letting loose-”

“do you not like talking to me?” kaiser whispers. you can practically hear the pout in his tone, imagining the way his shoulders slump defeatedly. funny how such a powerful, influential, and unbreakable character can be reduced to nothing in your grasp. 

you couldn’t ever imagine abusing that power though, not when michael kaiser is the one in the centre of your palm. “i do. i love talking to you, i’m just concerned that you’re not using the time wisely.” 

“i’m wise. i’m super wise. right, babe? tell me i’m wise.”

where you would have played with him a little and strung him along with saccharine sarcasm, a small giggle escapes your lips instead. that would be saved for sober kaiser. “you are, you are,” you reassure, suddenly filled with the urge to see him. 

“thanks babe. i love you,” he whimpers. “please say you love me too.”

furrowing your brows at his uncharacteristic display of neediness and constant gratification, you were beginning to grow concerned at his odd behaviour. sure, kaiser loved to be praised for his skills, but there was something wrong about the athlete tonight. you’ve never heard him beg to be complimented like he is tonight, but with the add-ins of alcohol and whatever else, you don’t know whether to flag this or not.

“kaiser, can you give the phone back to ness?” you ask gently.

he whines, “say you love me too!”

“i’m picking you up, kaiser, give the phone back to ness so i can tell him.”

“will i get to see you?”

“if you give the phone back to ness, you will.”

“really? hang on, babe!” 

there’s a bit more rustling, resembling something that sounds like kaiser pushing through a crowd as he holds the phone in his grip, saying ‘move’ to bypassers in his way. after a short conversation that you can’t pick up between the familiar voices of your boyfriend and his best friend, you hear ness’ voice clearly once again. “hey, everything okay?”

“everything’s fine,” you say, having grabbed your keys and a jacket whilst waiting. “i’m driving over to pick kaiser up, hope that doesn’t inconvenience you guys.”  

“not at all. i’ll send you the location of the club. there are 15 minute parking places just outside.”

“thanks ness, i appreciate it.”

“don’t worry. see you soon.” 

“i’ll let you know when i arrive. tell kaiser to wait for me.”

you hang up after that, not waiting for a farewell from the soccer player as you plug your keys into the ignition, the car revving alive. after a 20 or so minute drive to downtown (the lack of traffic at one am made it so much easier to get there faster), you park at the curbside of the street opposite the club, clambering out of your car to lean against the driver’s door, where you could see the club entrance easily.

after shooting a quick text to ness, you wait patiently for the appearance of your beloved boyfriend, hugging your jacket close to your figure. 

six minutes later, you see them; a shorter figure lugging out a taller one over his shoulder with little struggle. regardless of kaiser’s inebriated position, you could recognise his silhouette anywhere, heart picking up a little as you jog over to the club, feet taking you where your heart wanted to go.

“ness!” you call out. 

upon hearing your voice, kaiser’s head shoots up from where it was drooped, scanning the general vicinity of where you were before he spots you. the smile that lights up on his face is instantaneous; a grin that rivals that of the club lights.

“my love!” he exclaims excitedly, stumbling over to you with surprising accuracy for someone who must have drank his body weight in alcohol. immediately, the athlete wraps you up in his arms, the smell of beer invading your senses as kaiser shields you completely from the outside world. “i’m so happy to see you.”

“i’m happy to see you too.”

after a few seconds of relishing in his warmth and (much-appreciated) silence, you take a mini-step away from him; an action the blond clearly did not take well as he groans, manoeuvring himself to now hug you from the side, head resting against yours as you pulls you towards him possessively.

you wave at ness from where you stood, unable to move with the striker clinging onto you. “thank you, ness. i’m sorry for disturbing your night out, you know how kaiser gets,” you say with a laugh, patting your boyfriend on the back.

“no, thank you for taking care of him. i’m glad he has you.”

“and i’m glad he has you too. you should go back inside, i got it from here.”

he nods, waving after a quick farewell before heading back in, disappearing from sight. sighing, you reposition yourself so that it was comfortable to prop him up against you. 

“hey, handsome, you with me?” cupping his face with both of your hands, he nods in your grip, eyes drooping here and there as he stares down at you with unmatched gentleness and love. you add as a light-hearted joke: “you used to be able to party until the clubs close, what happened?”

he grabs your wrists, holding on to them as he speaks, “you still never said ‘i love you’.” 

“oh,” you laugh, letting the sound spill freely. “my bad-”

“-why are you laughing?”

his question shuts you up, catching you off guard as the laughter diminishes like an extinguished match. uncertainty dances within you like smoke, greying the giddy mood you were previously in from being reunited with him. 

looking him square in the eye, you notice something that you’ve never seen him wear before: insecurity. 

kaiser looks so… abashed. sheepish. dismayed. your chest clenches at the sight, a feeling of protectiveness overwhelming you. 

“what do you mean?” you ask cautiously.

“why are you laughing at me?” repeats the athlete.

“oh kaiser,” brushing a strand of hair behind his ears, you see his frown even clearer. “i’m not laughing at you, it wasn’t meant to be mocking, i was laughing because you’re adorable and that you make me happy.”

he huffs, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. is everything okay, love?”

no answer. after a moment of simply standing around, you let it go because maybe it was just the alcohol that was making him act this way. you don’t want to think too hard about it. 

“let’s go home,” you whisper, grabbing his hands with yours, intertwining your fingers as you wait for his response.

“okay,” he slurs, nodding compliantly. 

“do you need my help walking?”

“yes,” he drapes himself over you without hesitation, causing you to groan uncomfortably. your question was said majorly as a joke, but kaiser will never let go of an opportunity to be as close to you as possible. 

stumbling back to the car with a half-coherent athlete was difficult but not impossible. unlocking the vehicle, you open the passenger’s door rather easily, shoving him in there with an ‘oof’ from both of you. however, when you tried to pull away, you were met with a chain and lock around your waist, manifested in the form of your overgrown boyfriend who is too liberal with the amount of physical affection he spares.

you place a hand on his shoulder to try and steady yourself from his iron grip. “hey, i need to go to the driver’s seat, can’t you let me go to do that?”

kaiser whines loudly, pulling you even closer. “please don’t make me let go. i don’t want to.”

he was not good for your health. you exhale, slightly perplexed, slightly touched by his devotion. “babe, i’m just going to the driver’s seat. you’ll let me, won’t you?” 

“no. wanna keep you with me. want to love you forever,” his words are muffled into your jacket before the athlete brings his head out of your stomach to look you square in the eye, and the shiny, emotional look in them makes your heart lurch. “please say there’s no one else for you but me.”

grabbing both sides of his face with tender affection, you place a kiss on his nose; an action that causes him to scrunch his nose out of instinct. “you know there will never anyone but you. i love you just as much in kind.”

he sighs, melting against you. the night air nips at your exposed skin but you can’t find it in you to care much.

“so… you don’t think that i’m too much?” the star striker questions and you think you’ve uncovered the root of tonight’s strangeness; the main problem that’s been bothering him.

“a lot? maybe” you whisper and his face falls slightly at your confession, a flash of devastation crossing his features. his expression of ruin is slow to fade so you kiss it off, sealing your lips with his in a gentle meeting of two hearts, hoping to heal his sorrow that was carved from a moment of misunderstanding. 

you pull away from him but the striker continues chasing after your touch.

“but never too much.” 

an exhale of relief leaves him before he straightens up to meet your lips again, hand snaking up to the back of your neck to hold you against him as he tries to communicate all that he feels-  which is everything. 

kaiser loves selectively, but he loves hard, dedicating everything of his that he can until he’s squeezed dry and rendered empty, ready for a refill that he’ll inevitably give away, all to you. 

kaiser’s heart rests in your hands, where it rightfully belongs.

“i love you,” slurs the striker against your lips. “i know i can be a lot but i love you. please never leave me. what is the meaning of life if you’re not there with me?” 

you can’t help wondering about what happened tonight for him to reach such a state of existentialism, but there’s no time to dwell on it now whilst he’s still intoxicated and vulnerable. gently, you hold his jaw so he could look up at you. 

“i might not show it as unabashedly as you do, but please never doubt that i love you. i adore you with my whole being, kaiser, there’s no one else in the world for me like you,” you confess, voice gentle and unwavering. 

he doesn’t let you see the way his eyes mist before closing them and leaning into your touch. “i would do anything for you,” the striker whispers.

“anything, you say?”

he nods.

“then let’s go home and sleep. what do you say, handsome?”

“what a brilliant idea. you’re so smart, my love.”

“thank you but you need to let go of me in order for that to happen.”

he begins wailing in protest.

© 2023 EARTHTOOZ do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites.

[presleyluvschris]

Join The Dream

alive!luke patterson x girlbestfriend!reader

a/n: not requested, back after 4 months!

desc luke didnt know you could sing after years of being your best friend

wc - 1.8k

warnings slight cursing, fluff, grammar, not proof read

the door krept open as you got home from school, tossing your grey messy laced converse off of your ankles and sludging your backpack off one of your shoulders and onto the floor.

it was 4:09 pm, you had nothing to do besides an english paper. but that could be done later.

you walk across the kitchen to sit on top of the counter, your nike women's dry-fit socks dangling as you thought about something, anything to do.

reggie and alex were out making flyers for their upcoming band gig on friday, while your best friend luke was probably somewhere in your guest house messing with your dads old music equipment and speakers you had gotten out of some dusty boxes for him a few weeks ago.

what was there to do?

you make a raspberry with your lips.

laundry...done. homework..ish, done. rooms clean...dad didn't get home until 10...

you stare at your mom's piano in the crevice of a large indent in a wall as you hear the air conditioner buzz softly.

the house was dead silent. no one was home.

for some reason, your hands begin to shake and your throat closes up staring at the white keys and grand black figure just sitting feet away, almost feeling like an old friend waiting for you to come back to it again.

after years.

this was the longest you had ever beared to look at it before.

the blank truth was you had completely disregarded the thought of ever playing any musical instrument ever again after your mom had died of cancer four years ago.

especially the piano. especially singing.

it was all the things you and your mom had cherished with each other. everytime you tried to even look at it. all that could replay in the back of your mind was your five-year-old self playing and singing along to "i love you baby", with your mother and you giggling with her.

what was so wrong about it? that you couldn't have that same feeling anymore? you didn't know.

it just hurt. all of it did.

over the years you had become slightly jealous of luke, reggie, and alex for being able to enjoy music like it was a second nature. maybe thats because it used to be yours, too, and your love for music had been taken away. and you felt like you could never get it back.

luke never knew about your passion for music. neither did alex, or reggie. sure, luke had watched you play with your mom as a kid but he never knew that you had the same thriving passion of music that made you feel alive like he did also.

everytime he tried to get you to sing along to one of the songs he had wrote with reggie you just shrugged it off, letting them sing.

because when your mom died, music died too.

in fact, luke had never heard you sing before. not even in the car, the shower, nothing.

but would this be what your mother had wanted? never even singing on the radio just because of memories?

if you were honest, you hadn't been the same person when you gave up music. If you were even more honest, you felt a hole without it.

you decided to get off the counter and slowly creep over to just....look.

not play, of course, no.

just...looking.

just...sitting down at your mom's favorite stool..

just..looking at the keys..

just..feeling them..

breathing...

you flinch when you accidentally hit a note with your finger.

your heart immediately starts pumping and you feel your stomach sink.

technically, you did just...play.

so, technically, accidentally, you could just play another...

on purpose, this time, you press a note, taking in the sound of a piano again like it was something completely new.

again, maybe? just once.

you start to play a few chords, trying to dig back in your brain four years.

you remember of a song called "forever", written by you. when you were 14. a month before your mom passed.

after playing the chords a few times, it comes flooding back to you like a sudden tidal wave.

you start playing them in order, now, and start singing your lyrics.

tears fall down your cheeks and onto the keys as you play the whole song through, singing the chorus, the verse..

you lean back slightly, holding your hands to your chest with a sniffle.

you wipe your eyes, but then jump at the sudden touch of a hand on your shoulder.

you whip your head around, quickly backing away from the stool.

"what the hell!" you gasp, but then realize who it was.

it was luke standing in front of you, now. his expression completely shocked.

it was silent, the only sounds was you trying to catch your breath.

his mouth was practically on the floor.

"y/n l/n."

you swallow, "yeah."

"what the fu-"

you cut him off, and play dumb, "what? i was just-"

you turn your head slightly to look at the piano behind you and then back to him.

"i was just like, messing around, i dunno, it was like- something i came up with..like..uhm..."

"i-i have so many questions." he scoffs, "first, okay? why in the honey bunches of fuck did you never tell me you could...you could..sing like that?"

you take a breath to answer, but he keeps going.

"two." he puts his hands to the back of his head, "since when could you play the piano? what song was that? was it yours? your moms? is this why you've never sang before? why-"

"luke, it-its complicated. i-" you take a breath out and shake your head, "i wrote it when i was 14. secretly. kind of before my mom died."

"why didn't you tell me you could write music?" he almost sounds offended.

"i dont know-- at the time you hadn't even started your band with reggie and alex yet, and that was like..your thing, and i just couldn't handle doing music again!" tears filled the bottom of your eyes as you tried to explain.

he steps towards you, wrapping his strong arms around you, caressing the back of your head as he holds it so his chest, stroking it with his thumb gently.

"shhh, sh. you don't have to explain anymore." his voice is gentle and warm. "i get it. but, music isn't something i own, okay? i wish you would have told me earlier, and i dont know how i didnt notice this before."

a sob accidentally escapes into his chest, and luke feels his heart slowly sink into the floor. he was a tough guy, but he would always let his guard down for you.

he rubs your back in comforting circles, "its okay, yeah? this is a good thing. its a great thing."

he tucks your hair behind your ear, looking down at you as you look up at him with swollen eyes and a slightly runny nose, luke speaking to you in a low and comforting voice. "you are so beyond talented. You know what im thinking?"

you shake your head softly, with a small sniffle.

"you need to be our singer for the band." he looks at you and titls his head like he already knows what you're going to say. "n' before you say no, think about it. you could do it in honor of your mom? y/n, look at you. you have crazy chemistry with a song you haven't even tried playing in years. you could play your keyboard? its waiting for you in the guest house. It would be practically wasting this amazing gift you have. and i cant let you do that. you know it, too."

"luke-" you almost whimper from the thought of playing music...all of the time. not just when you had sudden courage, like..all the time.

"please." he begs, "you dont have to decide or anything right now...just..think about it?" he looks down at you with those same eyes. "for me?" he bites his lower lip with a small smile.

"fine." you barely say. he almost jumps from excitement and hisses in victory before putting his hands on your shoulders and looks at you in the eyes. "you wont regret it."

"luke, what if-" you stop. "what if i fail? like, im not as good as i used to be? i havent even tried writing songs again-"

"from what i heard today? the like, one minute of you just...singing, and playing, was-- like, crazy good and thats more than what regs and alex and i could ever even dream of." he smiles, his dimples peaking out like a deer in headlights, "it would be totally awesome if you could join our band. Like an honor."

as you look at him speak you bite your lips nervously, and let out a shaky "okay."

he towers over you, taking a step closer and looking in both of your eyes, you could feel his warm breath dripping down your neck.

there was a silence as you look into both of his eyes back, smiling back slightly

"there's that smile."

he leans in slightly, you breathing out, and then looking down as your tone becomes quieter.

"we shouldn't do this." you whisper.

he makes you look at him by putting his finger under your chin.

"we definitely shouldn't do this." he breathes, trying not to smile.

"definitely." you say, him matching your expression.

"definitely." his breath catches in the air.

your lips meet his as he gently backs you into a wall, picking your legs up and holding them with his palms up like a feather.

you feel his warm lips lock against yours over and over.

"y/n," he takes a breath out, finally pulling away making a small click sound from your lips seperating.

"yeah?" you gasp for air.

"i love you." he chokes on his words, "i know its soon. i know. you dont have to say it back." he swallows. "i just thought you should know. n' like - its totally cool if-"

"i love you too, luke."

his eyes meet yours again, this time his eyebrows slightly furrowed, "for real?" a smile quickly creeps up on his face.

you gently nod your head as he kisses your lips again once more.

"i-i dont know its like- when i saw you playing, and- it was just-" he pauses, laughing and shaking his head.

"you're so talented. so real. like, down to it, real."

he looks at you with his soft eyes, kissing your forehead.

"your hole's filled now, y/n."

your eyes widen in surpise, "how did you--"

he rolls his eyes and tuts, "cm'on, seriously? i know you better than you know you."

a little smile appears on your face. it really was him all along. he knew after you played again you got the spark in your eyes back that you had when you met him and you were now the same girl he fell in love with all over again since he was ten.

he runs his thumb over your jaw. "that spark, right here?" he puts his hand off your chin and presses a fist gently to your rib. "right there."

"you're back."

you giggle softly, "im back."

divider creds to @benkeibear my nav ★

[transmascsteveharrington]

Prince Steve who loses a battle and his hearing gets send to the sea by his father as a punishment. He's a disgrace, to never return to the kingdom. Steve doesn't need to hear to know that his father told the crew to drown him, or let pirates kill him, or just wait for a storm to take him.

Steve tries to his best to be of use on the ship, but he has no illusions. He knows his father pays well and that the crew hates his guts, thinking he is nothing but a spoiled brat. And even if her were to prove them wrong and prove himself, they are too scared of his father to obey his orders. Steve knows when he boards the ship that his days are numbered.

He spends most of his days under deck after it becomes evident that the crew doesn't want his help. His nights he spends standing at the ship's bow staring at the ocean and staring at the moon. Thinks about how waves and sky melt into one in the dark of the night. How the moon will call out and the waves will sing back and the ocean will follow. Worlds apart and yet one in the dim reflection of light on the restless surface. Steve has made his peace with dying.

His life has not been fulfilled, but it has been longer than expected. Steve has lived with bated breath, just waiting for his father's temper to finally snap and one of the knights' lances to slip during training, or the cooks' food to grow rotten and poisonous.

Just like the moon to the ocean, death has always been looming above Steve, calling out to him, just waiting. And Steve is fine with it. Mostly. He just really wishes he had been in love at least once. He can't hear the song moon and ocean sing to each other anymore, but he kicks off his shoes bare feet on wooden planks and feels the love ocean and moon have for each other in the waves crashing against the hull.

His mother used to sing him to sleep, an old song. A caged bird singing out to his lover, waiting patiently, asking to be freed and whisked away. His mother has died waiting. Steve doesn't remember the lyrics, would probably not pronounce the words correctly anymore anyways. But he still knows the melody. He hums along with the ocean and yearns together with the moon.

The crew always ignores him so Steve doesn't notice when one day their eyes become distant and milky. When the ship stirs towards cliffs he doesn't question it. Just thinks that this might be it, this is where he will be thrown overboard and die. The ship crashes, planks splintering apart and Steve does tumble, falls overboard while the crew jumps. Bodies hit the water, but his head is the only one that breaks back through the surface.

He spots motion in the water, thinks sharks, doesn't know why he bothers but he tries to make it to the nearest cliff and climbs onto the coarse rock. A dark figure follows him. It's not a shark though that emerges once Steve has made it onto the cliff, even though it has just as sharp teeth. Sharp teeth and gills and claws and beautiful brown eyes and an almost human face matching the almost human upper body.

Sirens aren't meant to be pretty, they only lure with the promise of heated desire and quick release, no need to actually look the part. They are half monster anyways. Still, the siren in front of Steve looks beautiful, flashes his fangs in a grin as he lifts himself up on Steve's cliff.

Steve is tired the siren won't have to

sing to lure him to his death, the siren can just take him. He doesn't though, just stares at Steve, moves his lips and Steve, sick of it all, just snarks back, "I'm deaf you dimwit. So if you wanna eat me just get on with it."

The siren's smile falls. He's probably not used to his food talking back let alone be rude. His clawed hand reaches out for Steve and Steve presses his eyes shut, expecting pain. Instead, the siren cups his face gently, claw brushing over his cheek. Steve doesn't remember the last time someone had touched him with tenderness.

When Steve opens his eyes again confused the siren removes his hand and begins to sign. Steve's jaw drops a little, he knew sirens could speak whatever language to lure whoever they needed to lure. He hadn't expected them to know sign too.

"I'm not going to eat you, little prince," the siren signs. "I heard you call out for me so I came. You sing so lovely."

Steve still gapes, "What?"

"It's an old song," the siren signs. "The moon and the waves were not the only ones who listened."

Steve stares at the siren. The siren who heard him hum, who had heard him wait, heard him ask to be whisked away. The siren has come for him but not to eat him.

"What's your name?"

"Eddie."

"And what now Eddie?" Steve asks.

Eddie reaches into the water where there is another dark figure. When he takes his hand back out he hands Steve dark algae he has never seen before.

"You can take these and join me and my swarm, they'll allow you to breathe underwater," Eddie explains. "Or you'll say the word and I'll return you to the nearest land. Your choice."

It's the easiest choice Steve has ever made. Return to a place that was never home, live alone and in fear. Or follow the siren who heard his call and came for him. Steve swallows the algae.

"I choose you."

Eddie smiles again, holds his hand out for Steve to take before he pulls Steve underwater and for the first time Steve actually feels like he can breathe freely.

Growing a tail, gills, fangs and claws isn't pleasant. But Eddie holds him through it, hand brushing through Steve's hair. Steve can't hear Eddie, but he can feel the vibrations in Eddie's chest as Eddie hums soothingly.

He has no expectations after Steve joins his swarm. Seems to be happy to just be around Steve. But Steve called for Eddie the same way the moon calls for the ocean and just like the waves Eddie had come. Falling had been inevitable from the beginning.

They'll drift, bodies and limbs entangled, Steve's hand gently resting on Eddie's throat as Eddie returns the favor and sings for Steve. It's another old song. A love song. Steve can feel Eddie's love under his fingertips vibrating in Eddie's throat and beating in his chest. The song is not going to lure anyone else, one that belongs to Steve alone. Though Eddie never had to lure Steve, Steve lured him first. But even without his song, Eddie would have come for his little prince. The same way the ocean will always come for the moon, sky and water one during the star-lit night.

[imaginesandsmut]

So Good

Paring: Ethan Landry x fem reader

Summary: You and Ethan had hated each other since you too met, but when you're at a party dancing with a frat boy, Ethan takes it upon himself to show who you really belong to.

Warnings: Alcohol, smutty smut smut, and some fluff at the end.

Writers note: This was requested by @kianachampion and was definitely a great idea. Don't be shy to send fic ideas my way, ya'll. But anyways, enjoy xx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laughed whilst trying to steady your hand, the mascara wand shaking from your movements. The music in Tara’s bedroom was louder than any concert you have ever been to, pounding in your ears and causing you to go slightly deaf.

“Okay but I’m serious,” Tara yelled over the music, “if you don’t wear this skirt, I will kill you. You’ll look so good.”

You turned in your seat at Tara’s desk, turning to see her hold up the shortest skirt of your life. It was tiny, denim, pleated and with a chain dangling from one loop to another. It was cute but you didn’t know if you could pull it off, your ass would definitely be seen if you so much as lifted your arms.

“Please.” Tara tried her puppy dog eyes, pouting her lip in an effort to win you over. “I can’t be the only one wearing something slutty.”

“So you admit it’s too short!” You laugh at her attempt at playing cute.

“It is!” Tara walked over to her bottle of vodka and took a swig, swaying to the music. “But no one will care, it’s a frat party for god sake.”

You both were getting ready for the next rager at whatever Kappa Kappa Fi house it was at, most likely filled with the same people but during this exam season, everyone is looking to blow off some steam. 

You could hear Mindy and Anika singing to the song through the walls, they were both in the living room preparing drinks for everybody. Chad and Ethan were somewhere in the apartment, probably hyping each other up by calling each other snacks and grunting.

You turned back to the mirror and inspected your makeup, satisfied with the results you got up and took the mini skirt from Tara’s hand. She clapped her hands dramatically with glee as you took off your sweatpants and replaced them with the skirt, suddenly feeling very cold. 

“You look hot.” She pushed you towards the mirror to inspect yourself. The skirt looked nice, your legs looked nice too. You paired it with a graphic baby tee and your beat up tennis shoes.

“You look good too.” You turned to Tara and took the bottle from her, taking a swig as she smiled and twirled her short dress for you. 

You enjoyed these moments with your best friend, just smiling and happy. You both met in your first class of University, you were nervous because you hadn’t made any friends in the city yet but the spot next to Tara was empty and you were feeling bold. She smiled at you when you sat down, you smiled back and it was the beginning of your friendship. 

“Can you two hurry up now!” Mindy yelled from the kitchen, her voice much louder than the music.

You and Tara giggled at each other, both already buzzed from the few swigs of alcohol. You both left her room and joined the group in the living room, they were all drinking and laughing together. It was moments like this that made you really love your friends.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Except for one.

Ethan was taking in your appearance, a red solo cup filled with whatever alcoholic slushie Anika has made for everyone. His outburst caused everyone to look at you, all of them looking you up and down.

“Damn, you’re hot.” Mindy 

“Thank you, Mindy.” You send a scowl at Ethan, the boy sipping his drink with a crease between his eyebrows.

Ever since you became friends with Tara, you became friends with the rest of her friends. The only person you can’t get along with at all is Ethan, he annoys you to knew end and he lets you know that the feeling is mutual. Constantly bickering with each other and fighting over anything possible. Anything that he could make a snide remark about, he does.

“You’re gonna get cold.” Ethan’s voice was a mumble, like he was annoyed with your own choice of clothing. 

“I’ll be fine.” You cross the room and grab a drink from Anika, downing it in one go. With just a few words, he managed to get on your nerves and fill you with a need to punch him in the face.

“I’m just saying that it’s just a frat party, not a fashion show.” Ethan continued his attack on you.

“Oh my god, It’s not like you have to wear it.” You turned to look at him, crossing your arms defensively. 

“If you bend over everyone is gonna see your ass.”

"So what?" You ask, annoyed and confused as to why he would care.

"God why do you need to be so uptight about everything?" He takes a swig of his drink whilst still taking in your appearance. "You need to loosen up."

"I would if you weren't around."

“Okay!” Tara claps her hands loudly, shutting you both up. “Let’s go.”

The whole walk towards the frat party was filled with you and Tara laughing over something whilst Mindy rambles about the newest Stab movie. But all you could focus on was Ethan walking behind you, way too close behind you. He kept bumping into you from behind and not even apologising for it, just shrugging when you told him off. It wasn't long till you reached the party, pushing your way through the crowd and towards the drinks table, shaking Ethan off your tail.

"Go find some boring person to talk about movies with." You shout at him over the music as he tried following you through the crowd. It was annoying how much he fought with you yet still followed you around, an endless torture cycle.

"I'm just waiting for you to fall and show your ass to the entire party." He shouted back, his frame towering over you.

"God I don't care, just leave."

"I'm not leaving." Ethan looked around the party, obviously trying to find a place for you both to go so you could fight even more. "Let's go to the kitchen over there."

Before he could turn back to face you, you slipped away from his sight and hid behind a group of people. You watched Ethan turn back to where you were supposed to be, the wildy look around to find you. He gave up after a bit and huffed in annoyance, walking over to the kitchen and talking to Chad.

You walked over to another area of the house, hoping to be free of the ever irritating Ethan Landry. The pool table came into your sights and was loaded with bottles, ice and cans. You grabbed the first closed cap you could find and cracked it open, taking a swig and almost gagging at the taste.

“They’re not very good.” A voice behind you spoke, it was slurred but confident. You turned and took in the most stereotypical looking frat boy in your life, complete with the unbuttoned shirt and backwards cap. 

Normally, you would wave boys like him off. But you were tipsy and looking to have some fun tonight, so you played into his trap.

“Then what do you recommend?” You put on your most charming smile for him, completed with a slight tip of your head.

“I would try this.” He beamed at you, reaching over and grabbing a bottle from the table. “It tastes like Fanta.”

You take the drink from him and take a sip, nodding your head at the taste. He take your approval with a grin, nodding his own head. 

“I’m Luke.”

“I’m Y/N.” 

“Do you wanna dance, Y/N?” Luke seemed nice and charming, and he wants to dance with you which gives you a big ego boost. “You look so good, I just have to ask.”

You take his hand and let him guide you to the dancefloor in the centre of the house, bodies upon bodies push up against each other in momentum to the song. Luke pulls you close to him, his hands on your hips and moving them with his own. You put your arms around his neck and pull him close, your faces close enough to feel his breath on your cheek.

You look around the room whilst dancing to see what everyone else is doing; Tara was talking to a girl from your classes, Chad was playing beer pong, and Mindy and Anika were already making out on the couch. You looked around subconsciously for Ethan, trying to find him through the crowd.

It was then that you caught his eyes, an ever present scowl across his features. Ethan was sitting on the nearest couch, someone was talking to him but all he could do was focus on you and how close you were to this random frat guy. The drink in his hand long forgotten, the red solo cup gradually getting squeezed harder and harder with every sway of your hips against the guy. 

You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was the drinks in your system or the dark look Ethan was giving you, but you decided to put on a show. You turned around in Luke’s arms and pressed your back against his chest, moving your ass against his crotch. The infamous short skirt began riding up with every movement you were making, letting you get bolder and bolder. 

You threw your head back and rested it on Luke’s shoulder, looking to the side to make eye contact with Ethan. You could see him shaking his head at you, obviously annoyed about something like he always is. He was leaning back on the couch, arms crossed against his chest, manspreading like owns the place.

Luke was gripping you harder, his breathing heavy as he groaned at your movement in your ear. You smiled to yourself for doing this to him, but you felt like it was all wrong, like he wasn't the person you wanted him to be.

“Can’t believe I haven’t seen you around before.” Luke’s voice was low, distracted by everything you’ve been doing. 

You don’t reply, you felt mechanic against Luke, like his very touch made you feel wrong in every way. Your eyes kept drifting to Ethan, trying to peek at his reaction. The boy in question was now resting his elbows on his knees, bent over and giving every bit of his attention to what you were doing.

His jaw was tense, like he was going to crack a tooth from the pressure. His eyes were dark and focused, like nothing else in the world cared to him but watching you. The person next to him kept rambling on about whatever conversation they were previously on, but Ethan didn’t care. 

Ethan didn’t know what was coming over him, it was like he was taken over by a force of anger and jealousy. Everytime he was with the group, you annoyed him to no end and he made sure you knew it. He never once thought of you in any way but the annoying girl in the group. But now, seeing you dance with another guy, all he wanted was to grab you and pull you onto the couch with him. 

Luke’s lips attached themselves to your neck since you already had it stretched out trying to get a look at Ethan. His breath was hot and his lips felt weird on your skin, like he was trying too hard to make it sensual but it felt rushed and timid. You pretended to lean into it, like it was what you wanted.

That’s what set off Ethan.

He pushed himself off from the couch and made his way through the crowd, not even looking at the people he moved out of his way. You could feel him getting closer, like there was a pull he had on you and you could tell when he was away or too close.

A hand reached out and pulled you from Luke, earning a gasp from you and an annoyed yell from him. Ethan was gripping onto your arm like you were going to disappear, his eyes stared at you with disgust. 

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” Luke threw his arms up, confused as to why someone would interrupt him.

“Don’t touch her.” Ethan stopped looking at you and turned his attention on the frat boy, yet his grip on your arm never ceased. 

“Why? You her boyfriend or something?” Luke laughed, pushing Ethan’s chest.

“No, he’s not.” You tried to wiggle your arm out of Ethan’s hold but with every movement you made, his hold on you tightened. You’re sure that you’re gonna get bruises soon if he doesn’t let go. 

Ethan sent daggers your way at your outburst, like it was anything far from the truth and he was surprised by it. Luke laughed at your reply and stepped closer to Ethan, challenging him. 

“So what are you? Some sad friend that couldn't get any from her?” Luke’s voice was mean and his demeanour was scary, different from the charming way he was talking to you. It reminded you why you steer clear of guys like him at parties, and now Ethan’s hold was feeling a little more comforting. 

Ethan didn’t say anything to Luke, instead he just turned to look at you. You looked back at him but you couldn’t describe the look in his eyes, like he had someone to tell you but couldn’t voice it.

“Let’s go.” His voice was small and quiet, but demanding.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Luke was looking at you expectantly, like he was waiting for you to shrug off Ethan.

You looked back at Ethan, he wasn't waiting for you to say anything, probably preparing to drag you away no matter what you said. You could feel some eyes on the three of you, watching to see what would happen. You turned to Luke and apologised before pushing on Ethan’s chest and taking him into the nearest private room.

You shut the door behind both of you, effectively shutting out the party and the music. You looked around the room, a small study with books lining the walls. It would be nice if you weren’t pissed off.

You looked at Ethan who could only look down at his feet, a wave of nervousness overtaking the confident facade he just had on.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” You tried to keep your voice down but the anger was bubbling over the surface.

Ethan didn’t even look at you, just shrugging his shoulders in response.

“You have been acting like a total dick all night, more than usual.” You continue, running your hands through your hair. “And now you’re being a dick to others, seriously? Why do you have to ruin everything good in my life?”

Still, no answer.

“Are you going to say something?”

It was a quick decision for Ethan, one that he's been wanting to do for ages but had only seemed to have gotten the courage to do it now. He made the few steps towards you, closing the gap and reaching up to cup your face, all before crashing his lips onto yours.

It was sudden, him pressing his lips onto yours. You wanted to fight, to push him away and tell him off. You wanted to tell him off for the whole night and all of his antics, but you stayed still and let him kiss you. It was hungry, feverish, like he was expecting you to push him away and he knew it was going to be the last time.

It wasn’t until you slipped your hands into his hair and pulled him closer that he finally relaxed, moaning into your mouth and pushing his body closer to yours. He backed you up against the door, pressing his hips to yours to cage you in.

You hated yourself for what you were doing, knowing that you might hate yourself in the morning. But right now, kissing Ethan, it was all you wanted.

“Couldn’t handle seeing you with that other guy.” He whispered against your lips, kissing you between almost every word.

You didn’t say anything, just wanting to live in this moment forever because you didn’t know how long it’ll last, he might start fighting with you as soon as you back away. You tugged on his curls, earning a groan from him and a thrust of his hips against yours. It was getting hotter and heavier every moment that your mouths were on each other, losing all thoughts of how much you were supposed to hate him. 

“The only way I thought you’d look at me was if I was mean to you.” Ethan’s lips latched themselves onto your neck, sucking and biting every bit of skin he could get to. “But seeing you with him, I just wanted him to know that you’re mine.”

“Ethan.” It was like you were dumb, you couldn’t think of anything else but his mouth on your neck and his hands on your hips, gripping them as if you were going to run away.

“If you knew how much I wanted you, you would have ran away.” He was rambling, speaking to you as if you weren’t listening. 

“I wanted you too.” Maybe it was the drinks or the dancing, but your tongue felt loose and you split every thought you had to him. “I did all of that for you.”

He couldn’t say anything else, too turned on by your words and your hands tugging on his hair. His hands moved down to your thighs, gripping the exposed skin and chuckling at how you were trying to stifle your moans. His hands trail upwards underneath the skirt and to your underwear, caressing your hips with his thumbs.

“This fucking skirt.” His mouth moved to hover just above yours, your neediness made it almost impossible to focus on his words. “I wanted to rip it off you the moment I saw it, tried blocking you from everyone on the street during the walk here.”

“Is that why you hate it?” You chuckled, caressing his cheeks and taking in how pretty he really was for the first time. “Because you love it so much?”

“I wanted to take you back into Tara’s room and show you a reason why you shouldn’t wear it.” His eyes were laser focused on you, you were almost scared to look away. “Now I guess I’ll have to show you here.”

“What do you mean?”

Before any more words could leave your mouth, Ethan’s thigh wedged its way between your legs, the rough material of his jeans pressing against the flimsy fabric of your thin underwear. Your moan caught you by surprise, Ethan grinned wildly at it and was determined to hear more, 

“Want you to get off on my leg.” His voice was low and hesitant, like he was waiting to see how you would react to him being demanding with you when you would normally tell him off. But all you could do was nod and start grinding on his thigh, the jean material rubbing against your clit and causing you to go a little hazy.

Ethan was much taller than you so his thigh between your legs caused you to stand practically on your tippy toes, the only anchor you had was his shoulders. You nails dug into his skin through the fabric of his shirt, using them to help you drag your pussy over his thigh. The sensation was making you desperate, you could feel him flexing his thigh every time you moved your hips forward, making then feeling on your clit so much better. 

“If only the group could see how needy you are for me.” Ethan’s hands were on your jaw, holding your head up so he could see your face properly, grinning to himself at how your face scrunches up every time your clit feels a particularly good part of his thigh. “They would be so surprised to know that all that hate you had for me was just masking your true feelings.”

“What feelings are those?” Your voice was breathy and almost silent, you had never felt like this before.

“The feeling of wanting to fuck me, wanting me to fuck you.” Ethan’s lips ghosted your cheeks, kissing them after every moan you tried to silence. “If only you told me earlier, baby, that you wanted me. I would have helped you out, I will do anything for you.”

You don’t know why but those words spurred you on, causing you to pick up your pace and grind yourself on his thigh faster. Ethan could see you needed help and placed his hands on your hips, ready to help you. But before he did anything, he stopped you, much to your dismay as you let him know with a needy whine.

“Tell me you want me.” His voice was no longer cute and joking, he was serious. 

“Ethan.” You whined and tried to move your hips again, but his hold on you was too strong and bruising. 

“Tell me that you’re mine.”

You looked at him, his eyes dark and tough. As much as you two bickered and fought, he had never looked at you like this, it scared you a little. But the way he was holding you, the words he was speaking, it was all so hypnotic that all you could do was follow his instructions.

“I’m yours, Ethan.” It scared you more that you knew you meant it, you had known it for a long time but this was the first time admitting it. “I have always been. Now please, make me feel good.”

The last part was what got Ethan, the desperation in your voice and the way your hands clung to his hair like he was all you needed in the world, it felt him with a sense of pride. His hands started moving your hips for you, helping you drag yourself over his thigh. It was all so delicious, the feeling of your own lace underwear and his rough denim on your sensitive clit, the groans he was letting go in your ear, his lips on your shoulder blade.

“You look so good, baby.” 

You smiled at the compliment, biting your lip as your eyes closed. The sight made Ethan almost cum there, how happy and hot you looked riding his thigh. He could look at your face all day.

Then, Ethan picked up his pace, dragging your hips over him with a new found speed, added to the sensation of him flexing and bouncing his knee to stimulate your pussy even more. One of his hands left your hip and went under your top and bra, groping your boob and tugging your nipple. 

It was all too much; the feeling of him on your clit, his cold fingers pinching your nipples and his mouth sucking hickies on your neck. You swore that if you had any thoughts apart from you and him, you would be embarrassed that the party was hearing how loud your moans were.

Ethan could tell you were getting closer from the tugging on his hair to the stuttered motion of your hips, you were starting to lose all control. Ethan crashed his lips back onto yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a messy show of dominance, wanting you to know who was making you feel this good.

“Come on, baby.” His breath was hot against your lips, and you couldn’t wait till he kissed you again. “I know you’re close.”

“Mhmm.” All you could to was whine, the feeling within you getting tighter and tighter the long you grinded on him. It wasn’t until Ethan took his hand from your hip and dipped it into your underwear, rubbing your clit in lazy circles and you feverishly thrusted against him

“Good girl.” He almost laughed at how whiney you were, so different to how mean you are to him in front of your friends. “Let go for me, let everyone know who’s making you feel good, yeah?”

The band within you snapped and you came with a cry on Ethan’s thigh and fingers, their own assault on you never ceasing and he continued to rub your clit and help you move your hips on him, allowing your orgasm to drag out. 

He took in your face, so blissed out in ecstasy, he kissed you hard. You smiled into the kiss, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer, not wanting the moment to end. You were scared about what was going to happen when you got off his thigh and left the room; would you two go back to fighting as usual or did this spark some change within him.

“Come back to my dorm?” Ethan’s tone was now nervous and unsure, and yet his demeanour remind confident. “I wanna see you in my bed, naked. Be away from the crowd so you can chant my name.”

Ethan watched your face, waiting for you to say something, anything. He was nervous too that you were going to push him away and act like this was a one time thing, he wanted it to be more, for both of you to be more. Fighting with you was the only way he was able to get your full attention, and so he did it because he had no other choice. But now, knowing that you like him back, he wanted you to be his. 

“Okay.” You looked up at him and touched his lip with your thumb, a soft gesture but it caused him to melt. 

“Yeah?’ His smile was contagious, causing you to grin yourself. 

“Yeah.”

[headphonegrl]

“Do you feel old?” You ask Jude, your voice hoarse from performing multiple songs back to back on the garish karaoke machine his mum had rented out for the occasion. There are now at least a dozen badly shot videos of you singing in Jude’s camera roll, including a rendition of ‘happy birthday’ sung by you and his brother where half his index finger is covering the lens. 

“What’d you mean?” After hours of displaying nothing but rash energy, Jude finally feels himself getting sluggish while trying to endure the unbearable gnawing feeling of pins and needles rising up his legs; a big plush sofa sits untouched on the other side of the living room but you’ve both decided to drunkenly cram yourselves onto the armchair in a mess of tangled limbs. 

“Just a silly question.” As you flutter your eyes shut, Jude tries to get a proper look at the glitter eyeshadow you had meticulously applied earlier that evening. In the wake of a large round of tequila shots, some of his friends had insisted on having their own ‘sparkle stuff’ and began queuing at the bathroom door like kids waiting to get their face painted like a tiger at the zoo. “Do you feel any older yet?”

“I’m not sure.” It’s the kind of question he’d once been asked in the primary school playground, with a blue birthday badge pinned proudly onto the fabric of his uniform. Back then it seemed very easy and obvious to answer plainly with a ‘no’, though now he’s finding himself stumped for a reply entirely. “Do you ever feel like that?”

“I think the last age I felt was seventeen.” You say definitively as if you've thought about it at great length before. Jude hadn’t known you at that age, but his home screen for almost a year was a photo your mum had shown him of you pulling a horrific face while blowing out the candles of your seventeenth birthday cake. 

“That’s probably the same for me.” Embarrassingly, Jude had once referred to himself as a ‘seventeen-year-old’ during a frenzied post-match interview and then had to sheepishly correct himself by clarifying that he had just turned nineteen. Sometimes he feels like the years are slipping through his fingers like sand and there’s no sufficient way to stop them.

“Then before that it was twelve.” You continue as you do a little cat-like stretch with your free arm which Jude finds incredibly endearing along with everything else you do; he supposes it’s a very common side-effect when it comes to being in love.

“I found being twelve proper boring.”  It was something he remembers expressing even at that age. Just as if he had been dropped off somewhere by his childhood and was painstakingly waiting for his teenage years to finally pick him up and take him somewhere exciting. “It’s such an in-between age.”

“That’s true.” The sky in the open window behind you is that awkward shade of grey that appears just before sunrise, like a page when a printer begins to suddenly run out of ink.

“I wish we’d known each other as kids.” Jude feels as though he goes through life with your name humming inside his chest like a second heart and yet this sentence seems so intimate that he can’t even look at you as speaks. Instead, he takes extra care and attention towards staring at the ceiling and inspecting all the sparse helium balloons that have floated up towards it.

“So do I.” Your words come out as a dozy whisper and Jude finds himself smiling up at a star-shaped foil balloon. He’s not twelve or seventeen, but he’s just turned twenty and loves you so much that he doesn’t even care that both of his legs have gone completely numb from sitting with you on this unbearably uncomfortable armchair.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dire iv, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook and his wolf girlfriend are going on a date! Outside!! Not just fucking in his bedroom all day! Who would have thought? (Not me.) Can't get ahead of ourselves though. She has to attended to her official duties and him? Unfortunately, he begins to realize the world around him is much crueler than he thought.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, world-building, the Dire = wolf people, species discrimination / prejudice; maknae line goon antics; smut (fem reader, spit kink (an understatement), unprotected sex (ty biology), m and f-receiving oral, face-fucking, cowgirl, creampie, cum-eating, biting/marking, m-masturbation, doggy); violence; non-idol!AU - werewolfAU / soulmates; werewolf!reader x blond, human!Jungkook; switches between JK's POV, your POV, and the Dire Alpha's POV (your dad), ft bodyguard!Park Jimin and bodyguard!Kim Taehyung

best doggirl and the spit kink king are back! my writing style has changed from 2021, did my best to summarize as you read but if you want the other parts: (i), (ii), (iii) happy birthday JK 2024! enjoy this gift? XD inspired by YOASOBI - 怪物 (Kaibutsu)

--

part iii

-

“You have to admit. You look really cool.”

Those dark gold eyes seemed to burn. The wet, visceral sound of black lips peeling back, revealing sharp, white teeth that could tear holes into his flesh with ease. They glistened in the moonlight, along with her pink tongue that lolled out, curling over the edge of her snout in a slow, predatory motion.

Sexy as fuck.

Jeon Jungkook tried not to quiver in excitement, but he was sure his death grip on the silvery fur of her chest was giving him away. Underneath his knuckles he could feel hard muscle and the heavy thud of his mate’s heartbeat. Well, there was probably some technicality in that wording, but that didn’t stop him from already thinking it.

“I’m starting to think you might like this form more than my human form.”

The female Dire wolf mused, tilting her head, breathing above his hair. He had continued to bleach it the ashy blond with a darker shadow root. His scalp wasn’t happy about it, but Jungkook liked to think of it as complimentary to the love of his life. Yes, uh, the giant wolf with the black-tipped silver fur sitting in his bedroom. Yes. Her thick tail thumped on the hardwood. She was doing that thing.

That thing with her saliva.

“I… I d-don’t…” Jungkook panted, but he was rapidly losing the plot.

The Dire seemed to grin.

“At least during sex.”

Drool slipped down the edge of those black lips and splattered onto his forehead, making him moan and close his eyes. He tried not to writhe, to scream, to collapse. There was no human ecstasy that could match what was surging through his veins now. It was a crime to call it spit. The second the drips hit his skin, his nerves seemed to sing with carnal need, all sensations heightened with a single drop. The wolf dipped her head, splashing saliva down his chest, and, as if possessed, his hands flew up and smeared it all over him, sending himself into a feral frenzy as it felt the slick liquid leak through his fingers, cling to his skin, down his abdomen, hot, burning, intense, his lungs on fire with primal desire. He could not speak.

His knees gave out.

He felt a padded, leathery paw catch him, claws nicking at his arm, and then a tuft of softness by his legs. Her tail. But before Jungkook could say anything, do anything, scramble to screw his brain on right, her tongue descended and pressed flat against his sternum.

“O-O-Ooooh, fuck meeeeeee...”

He opened his eyes to a hazy vision of pointed jaws, sending another surge of violent need through him, but at this point he could do nothing but submit, pinned to the ground, hypnotized by bright gold eyes as the wolf slid down, wrapping her tongue around his achingly hard shaft with teeth bared.

Okay, so, maybe Jungkook was a kinky freak but that was because of biology.

Not by choice.

Er, right.

And he wasn’t a furry.

Right.

The tip of her wolf tongue hoked around the oversensitive head of his cock and made his head snap back, nearly knocking himself out as pleasure tore through his blood. It was similar to human sex, except multiplied hundredfold, nearly resulting in an out-of-body experience. His palms slapped the floor, curling into fists in attempt to ground himself with knuckles into wood. Jungkook could relate the fetishists that obsessed over the Dire and willingly became sex slaves. Not that he condoned it per se, but, well, pot calling the kettle black and all that.

The sound of grinding bone.

A deep growl that turned into a husky chuckle.

Her human form was as beautiful as her wolf form. He marveled how quickly she could transform in front of his eyes, with her mouth hardly leaving his skin. She still retained her silvery ears and fluffy tail, the telltale features of the Dire, along with the wolf tattoo on her left hand. Like all of her kind, she had a serial number. But she was more than numbers. Scarred skin, powerful muscles, a mole under the inner corner of her right eye. An unmistakable air of regality and overwhelming power. She was, indeed, the Dire Alpha’s one and only daughter.

And, in Jungkook’s humble and purely unbiased opinion, insanely hot.

“And you say you could handle me while I’m in heat,” she taunted, licking upwards, spit sticking to his balls and making his eyes roll back into his head. “It’ll take you a few more years, I predict.”

“S-Shut up… aaah, yes…”

Oh, he thought about it. Not that he wanted to be a dad right now, but, someday. She had said before their children would follow the species of the mother. A little of pups, maybe? Or one by one? Jungkook had no idea what the specifics were, but he sure as hell thought about how fucking mind-blowingly intense the experience could be. He could only fathom, because she refused to tell him, instead drenching his throbbing cock with her hot mouth. He came instantly, the orgasm clawing through him from his core, tearing an animalistic groan from his ribcage, desperately fighting the urge to pass out, the high splintering through his muscles in igniting sparks.

Maybe embarrassing, but all shame was wiped away at the radiating sensation of her swallowing his thick load. He could feel the volume, feel the way her throat muscles constricted around him, feel the muscles of his crotch strain, and his cock remained hard, aggressively pulsating from their wanton connection.

Her warm, wet tongue hooked around his balls and Jungkook gasped, his hips snapping up violently, back arching, almost screaming as he felt the head of his cock slam into the back of her throat. Her hands gripped his ass, fingernails digging in, lifting him with ease, forcing him to thrust into her mouth in an absurd form of self face-fucking that would not be possible without her strength, which was both extremely arousing and extremely concerning. But horny canceled out fear, so Jungkook soared towards glorious heaven without a care in the world.

His moan swelled throughout the room, saturating it with his lustful vocalization.

A part of him wished he could describe the impending orgasm that was thundering from deep within. It held the same gravity as terror, the same abyssal depth as love, and the undefined quality of time. It ripped through him and put him back together at the same time, leaving him in tears, stronger than before, a step past alive that walked the line of death, and through the haze of oblivion, Jungkook saw her rise with the look of predator to prey, and she sank down on him, his stiff cock still sputtering residual spurts of cum while her hot, slick pussy tightened around him, sending a fresh wave of blinding bliss through him.

He felt her hands clutch his shoulders, the points of pain from her nails bringing him back to reality.

But only just.

She licked her teeth like royalty about to feast on fine dining.

“Mine.”

-

You dipped your fingers into your mouth and pulled them out, glistening with saliva, and smeared them over Jungkook’s lips. You watched with fervent delight as his instincts took over while you rode him, roughly, brutally, his eyes still conscious, his body bucking into each thrust, his mind on the brink as he tried to grasp onto each sensation. His willpower was breathtaking. No, addictive. You leaned down, hungry to watch his face that was unable to hide wave after wave of ransacking pleasure, his shoulders practically vibrating under your palms.

In the end, you were more animal than human.

You breathed out, your heavy exhale washing over him, and Jungkook writhed, fascinating you with the way his strained muscles rippled, whining, slamming his hips into your crotch with a loud wet smack and cumming again, but you did not relent.

There was such a thing as love among Dires, although you should not partake in such as the Alpha’s sole heir. At least, tradition did not allow you to partake.

Taming you, another story.

You tightened around him, defying tradition, losing yourself to a pleasure that could never be matched.

Like humans, Dire wolves also spoke of the ideal of a perfect mate. Less abstract than the concept of a soul, though. More focused on the concept of matching power levels and building a strong bloodline. There was no room for the weak among the pack.

And yet.

While Jungkook by no means matched you in physical prowess, perhaps that meant that the power of humanity was not measured by pure muscle, but by determination that went past personal safety.

You threw your head back, gritting your teeth, a rising hiss bubbling in your chest, the heels of your palms pressing against his chest. His back hit the floor with a thud, starting a vicious cascade of adrenaline from him to you, and you felt the rising pleasure crash and burst, suspended on the hairline of sanity before the spasms beneath gripped you, ricocheting up your ribcage, seeping juices painted between your connected bodies and you let out a howling moan, your nails digging into his flesh.

Jungkook came, trapped in the jaws of your orgasm, adding a squelch of fluids to the rest buried within you.

You reached between your bodies, opening your mouth, collecting spit onto the tip of your tongue.

It dripped down, down.

His mouth opened mid-moan, his dark eyes unfocused, pupils blown out, and you smeared the mix of his cum and yours onto his tongue along with your saliva, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he drank it, intoxicated, gurgling your name in wet bliss. His bleached-blond hair stuck to his forehead, damp from sweat. Or maybe from your drool from earlier. Ah.

You leaned in and kissed him.

His taste was different.

Like electricity.

You tilted your head, kissing him deeper. Again and again, until he reached the edge of consciousness.

“D-Don’t… stop…”

You kissed him even as he passed out, licking his face, staking your claim, painting him with you.

It might be primitive, but Jungkook loved it, so you did not deny him.

After wiping him down the best you could and tucking him into bed, you cleaned the floor. He slept like the dead, oblivious to your silent movement of mopping his floor. You made sure it was relatively dry before putting everything away, giving his form one last look before gazing out his bedroom window.

The moon blazed above in the pitch-black sky.

The adrenaline still rippled through your blood, but it wasn’t from the sex. You could not see the eyes, but you could feel that the window was being watched. The growl below your collarbones simmered. You felt the shallow presences shrink back a little, sensing your intent to kill on your territory.

They may have disappeared now.

However, you did not relax.

You had hired security detail for Jungkook. Against his will, they lived next door. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin from RJ's Private Security Services. The only reason you trusted them was because the CEO was well-regarded among your father’s security guard. Your father, the Dire Alpha, had human security detail outside of Dire territory, and wolves for around the castle. Crime was handled by the nation of the perpetrator. Between Dire and humans, the wolf was almost always ruled the perpetrator.

Which did not benefit the humans, since punishment was usually death.

It didn’t benefit wolves either, since punishment was usually the Alpha slaughtering you in front of your family.

Very pleasant traditions, yes.

Hring human bodyguards was important for Jungkook, because wolves were unlikely to attack humans and because humans were slightly less likely to attack their own kind when in groups. Slightly. Although you trusted Taehyung and Jimin, they were only human. They could not sense the world like you could, plus their bodies required ample amounts of sleep to be fully alert. Therefore, you had begun to stalk Jungkook’s apartment – much to his delight – but you did not inform him that it was because of the malicious intent that seemed to scuttle along the pavement like cockroaches. You did not mind satisfying his lust, of course. Other than your saliva giving him an almost hallucinatory high, it made your pheromones radiate off him, essentially telling anyone in the vicinity to back the fuck off or you would give him a very nasty bite.

You left out a wispy, heated breath, fixated on the moon.

You would protect him, no matter what.

On his bedside table was your necklace. A pendant of a jagged diamond with a platinum plum flower pressed in the center on a thick silver chain. On the chain were ten silver rings. Rings of conquest. You would have to go back tomorrow. There were at least two rituals scheduled soon. You were both prime breeding age and the next Alpha. Every male wanted to be the Alpha’s mate with the intent of producing the next royal kin.

You, however, were not interested in any of them.

Jungkook snored very loudly from the bed.

You slunk away from the window and crawled into bed beside him. He was warm. Once he felt your skin brush against his, his body turned, haphazardly flinging his limbs over you.

You smiled.

Pulled the blanket over his arm and listened to the sound of his slumber.

For Dire wolves, courtship was completed through combat. There were those that did participate in the gentler rituals common through humans, but marriage could not be viewed as solidified without combat between mates. If they deemed each other as worthy through battle, both wolves could call a truce, thus having their union recognized among the pack. Common wolves could perform this ritual at their leisure. The ritual for royalty was, of course, different. Although anyone and everyone wished to become the next Alpha’s mate, initiating an official challenge was intimidating to say the least. Not only was each match overseen by the Alpha himself, losing was both shameful and embarrassing. Nearly ostracizing. Still, word was also getting out that you were fucking a human. Unsurprisingly, most Dire were not thrilled at the idea.

And so, you were soon to be called to fulfill your royal duty of kicking lupine ass that had delusions of being your husband because your mate was currently snoring into your fluffy ear.

You would not lose. At this point, you would rather die than select a different mate.

Wolf men were overrated anyway.

The problem was, how were you supposed to have your marriage recognized by your people? It was a future issue that needed a solution, but one step at a time. First, kick the lupine ass of whoever was stalking Jungkook. Then figure out how to get your people – well, actually, your father – to acknowledge your mate.

Sigh.

That was already impossible, as Father would most likely bite Jungkook the second he showed his face.

Even from this distance, you felt the tingle of his disapproval from within the stone walls of the castle.

-

“Wait are you guys wearing?!”

Kim Taehyung flashed a dazzling boxy smile that further illuminated the flashiness of his pink-and-orange Hawaiian shirt. Maybe that was why he was wearing those ridiculous large sunglasses. “It’s fa-shun. You wouldn’t understand, dear record store employee.”

Jungkook was flabbergasted.

Park Jimin was also sporting a similarly colorful shirt, slate blue chinos, and big sunglasses. Leather loafers, even. He handed Taehyung a tan sports coat that he slipped on, covering his identification badge and harness that held his, er, tranquilizer gun. Jungkook still wasn’t sure what that meant, but the suspicious gun-shaped thing in the holster was bright orange with a blue biohazard sign on the handle. Jimin had one too, although his demeanor was less unhinged. He seemed more trustworthy with it. The shorter man put on a light green shirt jacket over his yellow-orange floral shirt.

Neither of them looked normal.

Despite this, Jungkook had no choice but to endure the stares of everyone as he stood on the train, squeezed between two men chattering over his head. He tried to look nondescript in his large grey bucket hat, dark red long-sleeved henley shirt, baggy black sweatpants, and black sneakers. Tried being the key word, since it was impossible to avoid looking like an emo child chaperoned by two parents perpetually trapped in the seventies.

He would have felt less weird holding the hand of his wolf girlfriend, honestly.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

Jungkook glared at Jimin, who was grinning with his sunglasses ticked down like a sleazy porn star.

“Aw, someone’s cranky,” Taehyung teased, earning him a similar death glare as they walked off the train. “Missing the missus that bad, huh?”

“Please stop talking like that,” Jungkook muttered, slapping down his train card rather harshly. The gate let out a hasty beep and shot open. “I feel like I’m stuck with the two goons of a half-assed gangster movie.”

“Who’s which half of the ass?” Jimin chirped.

Then his supposed bodyguards both shot finger guns at each other and burst into a fit of giggles, which made Jungkook half-consider jumping into an open manhole. On a better day he might have joined in on the fun. However, he was indeed cranky. This morning, she had kissed him goodbye, apologizing for having to cancel their plans and promising to be back in a couple days. He had almost protested, but then he caught her glancing at her hands. All her fingers were laden with heavy silver rings. A snake head with black gems for eyes. The black stone with a bone pressed into it. The wolf with the opal eyes. The ten-pointed star etched into a hammered silver circle. The simple silver band. The large opal gem inlaid in stars. The skull with the snake. The moth with opal gems as wings. The ring scripted with a single word, FEED. A twisted silver band.

“You replace them as you defeat stronger opponents, right?” Jungkook had asked.

She had smiled, pleased that he had remembered. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Do you think you’ll replace any this time?”

He swore a gold streak flared through her irises but he couldn’t be sure.

“Probably two.”

It mildly pissed off Jungkook that male wolves could just rock up and ask for her hand in marriage, but now that he thought about it again, saying that to the Dire Alpha’s face that you wanted to fuck his daughter sounded shit-inducingly petrifying. Upon further inspection, he didn’t envy them that much. Plus, they all got their butts kicked by his hot wolf girlfriend. The latter might be kinda – ahem, anyway, today was Jungkook’s day off.

He looked both ways before crossing the street, quickly followed by animated Jimin and Taehyung.

He couldn’t help but notice the Dire among the humans as he walked.

They stood out everywhere they went. Pointed ears, some clipped. Bushy tails, some shoved into voluminous skirts and baggy pants to make it less obvious. He used to think the ones that lived among humans were all up to no good. That was the public perspective, after all, similar to humans who were heavily tattooed. Such groups were treated with veiled contempt simply for existing. It made Jungkook feel ashamed for assuming that, especially since he now saw how carefully the Dire approached humans, trying to look as meek and unassuming as possible, moving in and out quickly so as to not disturb the peace. He also noticed how some groups of Dires glared at everyone that passed them, jaded by public perception.

Part of him wondered why they did not live in the wooded area of the main colony. Then another part of him came to realization that he probably didn’t want to know the answer to that. After all, his wolf girlfriend had to leave him to participate in courtship combat rituals, so… yeah.

It was a dog-eat-dog world.

There was a loud clang as the glass door opened and hit a male Dire in the face. Jungkook started. A group of teenage boys snickered and pointed, racing away from the business as the thin Dire in a dirty grey long coat shook his head roughly, looking pissed off but still staring at the ground. Nobody around him said anything. The Dire snorted and turned away from the establishment, empty-handed, quickly shoving his hands in his pockets.

Jungkook opened his mouth to ask if the stranger was okay.

The Dire glared at him, snarling deep in his chest before breaking into an alley.

A deep sense of regret stung within.

“He’ll be fine.” A hand rested on Jungkook’s shoulder. He turned to see Jimin ruefully smiling. “He nicked a wallet from one of the kids.”

Alert perked up his shoulders. “What? Aren’t you guys gonna do something?”

Taehyung appeared beside him with a frown, ushering him along. “For what? Ten thousand won and a drained train card? Besides, our job is to protect you.”

“Don’t you have a sense of justice?” Jungkook hissed under his breath, not liking their lackadaisical attitude.

Even behind the dark glasses, he saw Jimin’s expression deepen. “Justice? Of course.”

“Then–”

“We can’t go around invoking our personal justice on others.” Those plump lips twisted to a morose grimace. “That’s not our job. Our job is to protect you.”

Indignance flared as Jungkook harshly whispered back, “Then why aren’t you taking it seriously–” And he cut himself off as Jimin and Taehyung looked back at him. Faces tense despite their colorful appearances. Once again, he was reminded of how much they stood out.

“People… People are staring at us…”

Taehyung took a step past him, ticking his sunglasses with a sly smirk.

“The more eyes on you, the more witnesses available to testify if we are attacked,” he said under his breath, monotone, with a sweeping laugh to cover up the gravity of his warning. Jungkook half-turned, feeling Jimin’s arm clap over his shoulders, breathless and wide-eyed as Jimin’s pitched laughter rang with Taehyung’s deeper octave. It took a moment for those words to really sink in, but at that point Jimin was dragging him into the department store they had been heading towards all along, and then all of a sudden they became three longtime friends out shopping, noisily discussing the current frivolous fashion trends. Definitely not one dumbass and two dumbass-looking-but-actually-extremely-competent undercover bodyguards.

It wasn’t until Jungkook was shoved into a dressing room with an armful of random dress shirts that he spotted himself in the mirror, his wide eyes trembling with fear.

“I’m in danger,” he mouthed, feeling panic rise to his throat.

His heartbeat raced. He clutched the nice fabrics and shut his eyes, breathing in. Breathing out. No. Don’t cry wolf, idiot, and Jungkook almost laughed at the thought because it was more literal than most would expect. He missed her very much. He knew she could sense him somehow, so he tried to radiate calm, especially when he knew she was busy with her personal preparations. She had hired Jimin and Taehyung for a reason. It just… It hadn’t hit him until now that, yeah, they had been hired to protect-protect him.

Maybe, deep down, Jungkook had wished that it was only silly paranoia.

Then again, before he had security, five Dires had beat the stuffing outta him just because. So, if word was getting out that he was banging the Alpha heir for free…

Oh.

Okay, he was a little scared.

But only a little. He coughed and straightened, dumping the hangers of shirts onto the ottoman in the corner of the dressing room and whipped off his bucket hat, roughly mussing his flat hair. He scowled, hating this feeling of helplessness. Maybe he would hit up the mixed martial arts gym by his house. Increase his workouts to six days a week. He couldn’t be useless forever. At the very least Jungkook wanted to be able to kick human butt.

He yanked his shirt over his head.

“Hey – Whoa! Freaky-deaky!”

Jungkook almost launched himself into the mirror in a mute scream, pressing his long-sleeved shirt into his chest as he spun around to see Taehyung and Jimin cramming themselves into the dressing room, locking the door behind them. He gawked, flapping his jaw like a fish as the shorter male bent towards him, giving him a shifty up-and-down stare as Taehyung tried not to burst into another fit of deep giggles.

“Your back looks like the imprint of a chain-link fence,” the giggly man snickered, tapping his crossed fingers.

Jimin ticked his sunglasses down and wagged his finger.

Jungkook chucked his shirt into Jimin’s face, who promptly slingshot back into the dressing room door in dramatics. Taehyung grabbed his shoulders and gleefully hissed, “Stop, stop, not so loud,” as if this unbelievable ruckus wasn’t suspicious enough.

“Get out,” Jungkook gritted out to the other two. They waved his warning away and began to pick up the dress shirts, hanging them on the bar while very poorly acting as if they couldn’t see the welts and scratches all over him. Waving their hands this way and that, sticking him into a revolving door of various dress shirts while exchanging not-so-subtle looks.

Assholes.

“I can see you.”

His bodyguards-turned-fashion-critics were splitting up the tried-on shirts into two categories. Both tucked their sunglasses into the dip of their collar to begin serious deliberation. Wordlessly shaking their heads at each other. Contorting their faces in various levels of judgement. It was strangely efficient and also weird as fuck.

“Get some slacks. Dark ones, tapered,” Jimin nudged Taehyung, and the taller male was off, sticking his head out of the dressing room in a left-right criminal-level lookout stance before sauntering out.

At this point Jungkook knew it was pointless to protest. A pair of dark brown orbs popped over his shoulder as he unbuttoned the silky black dress shirt with small opalescent polka dots. He noted Jimin had to teeter on tiptoes to harass him properly.

Heh, shorty.

“You got that dawg in you, eh, Kookie?” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows. “Can I call you that?”

“No,” Jungkook muttered sulkily, slipping out of the dress shirt to put on a mid-weight navy one. He felt a little hand slap his arm once he shouldered it on. The upper seams were too short for his broad shoulders. He took it off without even buttoning it, recognizing there was no point in putting on something ill-fitting.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed about, Kookie,” Jimin barreled on and Jungkook realized now that the shorter male must be from Busan. His intonation and blunt talk reminded him of his hometown. “You and I ain’t so different if we get down to it.”

“Uh huh,” but it was a distracted reply. Taehyung spoke smoothly but there was a rough depth to his elegant, low voice. Daegu? Jungkook wondered how they got here. Money, probably. “Why accept this job?”

“Huh?”

He lifted his head and frowned at Jimin’s peeking eyes over his shoulder through their reflection.

“Why protect me?”

Jimin’s dark brows lowered slightly. Even though half of his face was covered by Jungkook’s shoulder, the crinkled in the corners of his eyes indicated that he was smiling.

“Honestly, I was getting really tired of protecting people who only care about themselves and not the world around them. But I don’t know how to make it better either. So, until then, I’ll have to keep looking for people who have the courage to make our shared world more beautiful.”

Jungkook stared at Jimin through the mirror.

For some reason, he remembered fluffy ears and soft tail curling around him, the smile of a leader-to-be by his side.

He turned, then jerked back.

“You’re too close.”

Jimin wiggled his eyebrows again. Creep. “Hey, no pressure or anything, but does your lady love have some fri–”

Taehyung chose this awkward moment to burst through the dressing room door. He gasped audibly and shut it quickly, waving the pants at Jungkook, “Cover yourself, you animal!” And, because Jimin had whipped his head around, Jungkook could now see down the nape of the shorter man’s neck. He had a series of obvious tattoos that disappeared downward.

The moon phases.

Then it clicked.

Jungkook bopped Jimin on the head.

“Ow!”

“The fuck is that for?” Taehyung scolded, jabbing him in the chest with the hanger of the slacks. “Didn’t your parents teach you that violence is wrong?”

But Jungkook paid him no mind, instead giving Jimin a knowing glare. The shorter man stuck his tongue out with a cheeky smirk before morphing back to a hurt baby chick when Taehyung looked back at him. Asshole.

“Get out before I clobber you both.”

Three really was too many to select one dressy date outfit, but such was Jungkook’s life now.

-

“Father, do you hate the humans?”

The Alpha could smell him. Despite his daughter’s attempt to shower, coitus between highly compatible mates lingered. Sigh. He knew this day would come, and he had dreaded it. His expectations were sadly met. Sigh. He shut his eyes and breathed in, but not too deeply. The urge to chomp on the human boy became stronger than before. He looked down to his daughter, who was still in her human form, wearing the traditional loose robes of the Dire. Silver, to indicate her royal status. It was coincidence that the color matched her natural fur. She was giving him a curious, searching expression.

His scowl must be showing.

“I don’t hate the humans,” he growled.

She remained unconvinced.

The Alpha let out a huff and looked out to the forest. They were on the rooftop on the stone castle, about to spar. The sun was setting, turning the green leaves a cinder-orange glow.

“Human are selfish, cunning, hateful creatures,” he said to the sea of leaves. “Such is the nature of those who perceive themselves as weak. The mouse lives an honest life, for it does not know of its level in the food chain. But humans do. They are not like you and I. The Dire know themselves to be apex predators, and so we act accordingly. That is, until the integration began, poisoning the Dire with their human fears.”

The moon was slowly peeking out, a flirty little sliver in the sky.

“But humans are not weak.”

The Alpha raised his head to the memory of his lovely silver wolf in the sky. She used to say these words to him, back when he was a haughty, arrogant, uneducated young wolf. She was always the wiser one.

“Their bodies might be weak but, unlike the rest of nature who are simply living in their own isolated bubbles, humanity has the ability to comprehend, empathize, and connect all these isolated bubbles. They are creative, innovative, and imaginative. They are the bigger world that the Dire are only a small part of.”

He looked back to his inquisitive silver pup.

It was partly a lie, as the Alpha did, indeed, hate the humans with a fiery loathing.

He would not, however, actively place his emotions onto his own daughter. If she was to lead after him, it should be with her own beliefs and ideals. He was simply there to guide. He still didn’t think he was doing an exemplary job, but he was only one Dire, after all. Sigh. It wasn’t the first time he wished his wife was still here to scold him to do better.

“Are those Mother’s words?” his clever pup asked.

The corner of his jowls raised. “You always know when she speaks through me, somehow.”

She smiled, playful and roguish, and he saw himself in her. Then a flash of guilt clouded her expression. He saw her pause, unsure. It made him feel like a failure. He was a leader before he was a father, unfortunately. His own daughter hesitated to be open with him.

He gazed back to the turning crimson leaves, not wanting his stare to intimidate.

“I know you have been helping humans on nights of the full moon.”

He felt her withdraw slightly. He frowned. But then she pulled herself up, standing straight beside the Alpha.

There was his defiant child.

“So?”

He tried not to smile. “You challenge our right to the hunt?”

“If our people were better hunters, then my impact would be insignificant.”

He continued to stare at the trees despite the pride swelling in his chest. “You wish to end such massacre.”

To his surprise, his daughter hesitated once more.

“The Dire cannot prevent themselves from becoming our true selves on that night. I will not let us be convinced that the core part of who we are is ugly. I want us to be able to hunt the natural way. However, I cannot deny that the full moon night has created mutual resentment between our species. But, perhaps, there is a way for us to contain our hunt to a different prey.”

“Oh?” The Alpha did his best to not sound impressed.

“Haven’t we become too lazy when it comes to the wildlife, Father?”

She had noticed it too. Raw meat had become too easy to obtain.

“According to the humans, the deer have become an invasive species.”

“Is that so?” He already knew. Calling out his own people as idle dogs did not exactly earn respect, although he was getting closer to doing so out of personal frustration.

“Yet I don’t think I can suggest such things until we better improve the bond between us.”

They stood in silence, father and daughter.

“I’m ready to kick your ass now.”

“I doubt you’ll be able to do so, Daughter,” the Alpha barked, his laughter cracking through the twilight. Something only she heard nowadays. “You’ve become soft hanging out with those humans.”

She proved him wrong.

-

He was drooling.

It was a little unsettling. It shouldn’t be, but it was for some reason. Maybe because he was human.

“Jungkook, uh…?”

He started and made a hasty slurping sound. Lovely. You turned a little, swishing your tail back and forth to get a feel for mobility. Checked yourself in the mirror again, satisfied with the tailor’s adjustments to the cobalt blue velvet dress. There was an additional zipper by the hole at the lower back of the dress that allowed your tail to poke through. The dress was a stark difference from the usual baggy clothes you wore. Although the fabric was stretchy, it hugged close in your body with a soft cowl neck and gathered side seams. The wolf in you disliked this encasement, but there were slits along the sides that helped, as well as your mate’s hungry expression. It was quite amusing.

And flattering.

“Wow, you look so… so fucking hot.”

“The open back is making me feel rather cool, actually,” you remarked. The thin straps crossed in the back to hold the front against your chest. Some of your scars and half-healed gashes were visible. You didn’t mind though. Jungkook seemed to like it, creeping closer and closer to you with every second. You pretended not to notice. “I brought some silver shoes to wear with it. Do you think this will be acceptable for the establishment you selected?”

He was not listening. Jungkook was now almost breathing down your back, and then you felt his fingertips trace your recent wounds with gentleness and concern. And a hint of desperation.

No, a lot of desperate horniness.

You stared at him blankly through his own full-length mirror in his bedroom.

“Does it hurt?”

His big eyes lifted to pout at your reflection.

“It does not.”

You had two new rings now. The FEED ring had been replaced with one that held a black onyx heart-shaped gem held down with locked chains. The snake head ring was also gone, swapped for a silver band composed of fused triangles. He was peeking down at them.

“The more intricate ones are from newer families,” you explained. “The older families have simpler designs, as that was the norm at the time.”

“Families?”

“Just as you humans have a coat of arms for your families, we have ring styles. There is a special Dire family of silversmiths that create them. The royal family has a pendant.” You laid your fingertips over the pendant hanging from your neck, a jagged diamond shaped like the full moon with a platinum plum flower pressed into it. “Unlike the families, who are able to swap rings and be indited to new families, the royal family are locked to their fate.”

His brows knitted together. “Sounds complicated…”

You smiled, patting his cheek. “Let me handle such things. You can stand there and be pretty.”

But a shadow crossed over his features. You paused, not expecting that. Jungkook shifted to hold your elbows, pulling you towards him with a rueful expression. He shook his head.

“I want to do it.”

You blinked in confusion. “Are you using euphemisms for sex now?”

He looked annoyed. “The ritual.”

Huh?

Wait.

He was crazy.

“The courtship combat?”

His nodded, making his blond ponytail bounce.

You almost laughed. Almost, stopping as soon as you saw the serious look on his face. “Ah… That’s not possible, my sun.”

Pink dusted his cheeks. “S… Sun?”

You reached up and twirled his bleached bangs. “Mhm. As I rule the moon, you are the sun that allows me to shine.”

He was two seconds away from becoming a blubbering mess. You laughed again as he hugged you fiercely, then received whiplash from him jerking back, gripping your shoulders tightly. His big brown orbs with glistening with brightness. “I want to do the ritual. It is a tradition of your people. I want to respect it. I want to win you.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Oh… well, not win you, but… you know…?”

Still, you considered it for a moment. You could tell him that he had already won, but you also knew that wasn’t what he meant. “The ritual reflects the savagery of the Dire. It is not for the weak.” You raised your head. Jungkook straightened, determinedly setting his jaw. He was far from the frightened young human shivering in the alley back then. The corner of your lips upturned. “You want to fight me that bad, huh?”

He waved his hands, dark eyebrows falling in worry. “No, no, not like that. I just think… I mean, your dad might – uh…” He rubbed his chest nervously.

Oh.

You looked out the window, to the growing moon. “Hm, I suppose there is some way to arrange a degree of fairness. But you will need to become stronger. There’s no way you can win now.” Father will be pleased, perhaps. It was hard to tell with that wolf.

“R-Really?” Then the latter half of your words sank in. “Hey…”

You turned to face him with a wolfish grin.

“Would you like me to prove it to you now?”

-

Well, Jungkook didn’t win the tussle, but he could confidently say he had won at life.

He had one hand pinned behind his back and the other on the floor above his head, her weight on top his thighs, and her tongue sliding down the nape of his neck. His boner was getting violently uncomfortable against the hardwood. He was too absorbed in pheromone heaven to care. The more competitive side of him argued that this was cheating and the horny side of him told the former to shut the fuck up and enjoy the saliva dripping down his shoulders, his skin burning with heightened sensation.

She had the foresight to remove her dress before pinning him down.

Jungkook could never compete with such wisdom, but he was fine with that.

She let go of his hands. He could do nothing. She gripped his lower ribs and hoisted his torso off the ground, too easily, and ran her tongue down his spine, removing her knees from the backs of his thighs as well. His hot skin prickled at the sensation of her teeth nicking him. Somehow he was now on his knees. Her arm snaked around his front and gripped his inner thigh, sharp fingernails digging into delicate flesh. His entire body shuddered, lungs included, her spit in rivers across his shaking backside.

Her tail flicked against his calf, soft fur rubbing against him.

“O-Oh, fuck…!”

Pre-cum was already leaking down his shaft. Hypnotized. His own palm pressed against the swollen, slick head of his cock. Like a spark to a flame, his nerves blazed with delight, prompting him to wrap his hand around the shaft. Her other hand clawed up his chest. And then he felt her teeth sink into his side. Jungkook looked down, vision unfocused.

Gasped.

Eyes streaked with gold gleamed and she bit down, into him, not hard enough to break skin but definitely hard enough to drive him insane.

His head snapped back, vicious lust tearing through his throat in a strangled moan, jacking himself off hard, fast, punishing, driven by the scratches down his chest and inside his inner right thigh, by the teeth locked into his left side, and then pain blossomed into unyielding waves of torrential pleasure. Coiling into his blood. Seizing his heart. So intense he was on the edge of alive and dead. A moan ripped at his throat, nearly a howl, and Jungkook could smell blood, nearly sending himself into a frenzy.

His orgasm shot all over the floor.

His lower muscles clenched and he thrust into his hand, burning all over, sensitivity exploding through his frame, and now he saw it, streaks of milky white splattered onto the hardwood, oh, shit, right before his eyes rolled back into his head to flashing blackness, feeling hot tongue washing over the bruise throbbing at his side.

“Ah, I’m sorry…”

“I d-don’t care,” he immediately choked out, swaying, his head lolling back into place, infernal ecstasy threatening to swallow him whole. His eyes could barely register that he was bleeding from the small pinpricks of her teeth marks. He felt unnaturally good, truthfully. Maybe because her saliva lingered on the wound. A fresh surge of arousal rippled down to his groin.

Her name slipped from his gasping lips.

A low, animalistic huff.

For a moment, Jungkook could not quite understand the image in front of him. One second, he was sinking on his knees, panting, staring at the cum-drenched floor of his bedroom. The next second, the powerful, lithe, crouching form of his wolf girlfriend was before him, on hands and knees. Her bushy silver tail swishing back and forth, her head low to the ground, ears standing straight up, and her tongue flat against the hardwood.

She was licking his cum!

Her tail was wagging!

“O-Ooooh…”

Those gold-flecked eyes fixated on him, watching him with a low, throaty snarl.

“Get behind me.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice.

His body knew what to do, springing into action, probably ungracefully, but he didn’t care, launching off his knees, positioning behind her round, raised ass. His hands gripped the soft curves, the pads of his thumbs slippery against her heated opening, and her snarl morphed into a blissful hiss, the tendons on the back of her hands visible, and he sank in, instantly drowning into suffocating, insatiable fervor.

Violent, loud, wet smacks of hips to hips.

She licked his taste off the floor. Her tail thumped against his thundering heart. His body snapped forward with unrelenting force, breathless, alive, intense, illuminated by the moon, his throbbing cock swelling against her pulsing muscle, snaking shivers seizing his insides.

Synchronized, laborious exhales.

Her head tipping back, the tip of her tail curling around his neck, her ass pushing back against his crotch.

“Ah, Jungkook, yes…”

Then he felt it.

A sublime pull coaxing him from within, otherworldly, not just fitting together on the physical but in a divine perfection, and his grip tightened, trying to hold on, thrusting deeper, harder, there.

He orgasmed in this carnal, dream-like state, moaning to the ceiling.

He wanted to ask what that was, if she had felt it, but his hips continued despite the heightened sensitivity, and he couldn’t stop, kept going, his lungs burning, leaning forward, oh, fuck, this angle was even better, her orgasm spasming around him, his eyelids fluttering from the racing bursts of pleasure, still so hard that it was almost painful, cumming again, the saturated scent of their sex overpowering, slickness dripping down their tense thighs, once again building to another wet, tight, soaring climax.

Jungkook continued until his legs literally gave out.

He slid to the floor, gasping, marveling at the way her pussy glistened, the quivering lips puffy and engorged dark pink, leaking heated slickness.

He inhaled.

Ducked forward.

Pressed his tongue into her and groaned, massaging his sore cock as he ate her out, tasting himself, tasting her, tasting them. Intoxicating, sweet, slipping into wet velvet, drunk on their union.

-

“What… W-What was that…?”

You listened to him describe it to you. And nodded.

“I see.”

“What?”

You rubbed your chin and asked him a question. “Do you ever wonder why the humans that become Dire sex slaves rarely stop such relations?”

His face contorted into embarrassment and confusion. “U-Uh, well, n-no, I’m not–”

“I’m kidding. That has nothing to do with anything,” you hummed, patting his chest with adoration. The look on his face though. “Humans have the concept of soulmates, don’t they?”

His pout turned into wide-eyed interest. “Uh, yeah…”

“Well, that doesn’t happen the nature.”

Jungkook glared at you.

You grinned. And then sighed, resting your chin on his pecs. “Do you wonder why the Alpha bloodline is so coveted?”

“Because you’re in charge?”

You hummed, your tail creating the tent with his blankets. “Well, of course. But we are not simply in charge by blood alone.” You placed your hands on his chest. Your rings and necklace were on his nightstand. “The Alpha position can be challenged by any wolf in the pack. However, we are difficult to defeat due to our blessing from the moon. This includes our amplified strength, heightened senses, increased rate of regeneration and healing… and the nature of our copulation.”

Those big eyes were blinking bewilderedly at you, not yet understanding.

A slow smirk touched your lips.

“The more you have sex with me, the stronger our connection becomes. You will feel the traces of divinity stirring within you to draw you towards orgasm.”

He sprang upward, startled.

“You mean it can feel even better?”

You laughed, sitting with your hands between your legs. “Yes, the sex will feel better and better as time goes on. The Alpha needs to bear children after all. So, to ensure this despite our low ovulation rate of twice a year, the moon encourages us to enjoy the mating process. Alphas in heat are extremely overbearing.”

Jungkook looked traumatized. “Y… You…?”

You licked your teeth in ravenous delight.

“I’m gonna die,” he declared, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I thought you would be happy to know that.”

He looked more stricken than pleased. “H-How can I keep up?! I’ve barely started not going full crazy every time you spit on me!”

You wiggled your tongue at him.

“S-Stop!”

His body involuntarily flinched at the sight of your tongue. You stayed between his open legs.

“I wouldn’t worry. I’m not sure about the specifics with humans, but I do know our marriage will mean that you too will receive the full blessing of the moon. Until then, the compulsion will strengthen you to your full potential each time we fuck. The moon wouldn’t want you to give up midway, you know.”

“H… How do you know that?”

You frowned. “Hm. I don’t.”

Jungkook almost fell off the bed.

“But I do know that is what my father told me. Alphas used to have a lot of children outside of their marriage, because the sex is quite literally addicting. It is similar to partaking hard drugs. Alphas only marry once, to the suitor most powerful that makes them yield, thus establishing their offspring as the true heirs blessed by the moon. The moon’s blessing ensures fertility between that connection. It does not, however, stop the Alpha from getting around.”

He hesitated and then blurted, “Your dad gets around?!”

You froze.

Then your ears lowered.

“No. I have never smelled another scent mingling with my father’s other than my mother,” you sighed sadly.

-

He could tell he struck a forbidden chord.

“I’m sorry.”

She smiled. Weakly. Then shook her head. “No. Don’t be.” She lifted her head, facing out the window. No. To the moon hanging above them, softly illuminating the world below. Her hand raised.

She tapped above her heart, twice, with her fingernail.

Turned to him. They shared silent expression of understanding. She took his right hand, and directed it to his heart. Nodded when he held his index finger out.

“Tap your heart twice and look to the moon,” she instructed softly.

He did so, feeling a faint, strained pull from within.

“What does it mean?”

She smiled again, and Jungkook could see the sadness. The yearning. A dream broken, a memory never forgotten, a love indescribable that transcended time and space and worlds.

“It is a Dire practice. How we to pay respects to the dead.” Her eyes shone. “She would have loved to meet you, my sun.”

She fell into his arms and he caught her, holding her for a long, long time.

-

You had never been in such a place before.

“Reservation for two? Right this way.”

It was a grand place. Different from the castle. A restaurant. The chandeliers above were massive, but each held small, dimly lit bulbs that resembled stars in a dark ceiling. Tables with starched white clothes and high-backed chairs. The clientele was dressed like you and Jungkook, in elegant dresses and pressed slacks paired with button down shirts. They stared at you and him above their wineglasses, trying and failing to be subtle. You held your head high, one of your hands on his elbow, sweeping past them in cobalt velvet and silver heels, your tail brushed out behind you, silken ears raised on alert.

You noticed the table beside yours had two sharply dressed men. The taller man wore a dark green suit, and the other in a navy suit. They sat across from each other, but both turned to glance at towards you as you approached.

You almost smiled, but tried your very best not to.

Park Jimin winked. You felt Jungkook stiffen next to you as Kim Taehyung raised his wine glass to you.

“Those punks…”

Still, he looked nervous in his silk black dress shirt. He hadn’t buttoned it all the way. The peek of his collarbones added a tasteful touch. His dark slacks were well-tailored, perfectly laying over the leather of his black dress shoes. Even the gold buckle of his belt matched the thin gold chain around his neck. As he pulled out your chair, you noticed his cuff links glimmer blue.

Sapphires to match your dress.

You swept your skirt by your thighs and sat down carefully, your tail brushing by his hand.

Smiled as you heard him suppress a squeak.

He sat down quickly as the waiter patiently introduced himself and set down the menus, bowing low in exit.

You curiously glanced about, noticing a few well-dressed Dire among the tables. In fact, you recognized some of them. High-ranking officials that worked in the human government. Your father had appointed them. They all had their full pointed ears, their soft tails groomed, and a couple had precious metal chains and dangling gems woven into their fur.

“I’ve never been somewhere like this.”

“Really?” Jungkook was gawking at his menu as if he had never seen paper before.

“This is my first time. I’m glad it is with you.”

It turned out the menu had an entire section dedicated to cuts of raw meat. There were no prices on the menu. Frightening.

“Do you want me to pay?” you asked, tilting your head.

Your mate seemed on the verge of passing out. “Ah… Actually, when I reserved a table, they asked for my credit card. So they can charge it when we leave, I guess…” Jungkook frowned slightly, his ears turning red as he glared at you. “I’m treating you. Although,” he muttered under his breath, I can’t do this all the time, clutching his menu so tightly his knuckles were white.

You assured him. “I’m really looking forward to it. You look very handsome, by the way.”

His face brightened. He straightened up, tucking a few strands of his blond bangs behind his ear. Half of it was tied back, leaving the shorter layers to soften his features. His shoulders relaxed a bit.

“I thought you went to these kinds of places all the time.”

You shook your head. “No. Father hates these sorts of places. Excessive pomp and circumstance.” You imitated his deep, gruff voice with a laugh. “We have a personal butcher bring cuts of meat about half the time. The other half, we hunt.”

-

The Alpha sneezed.

It was a loud, hostile sound that echoed throughout the stone castle.

He rubbed the end of his snout with the pad of his paw. Hmph. Someone must have been mocking him.

He growled and continued down the stairs, heading to the dining room for peaceful dinner.

-

“H-Hunt?”

“Ah… Wildlife.”

Before either of them could continue the conversation, the waiter was back. He asked if they were ready to order. Instead of looking towards him, the waiter poised towards his girlfriend first. Jungkook was a little surprised at how the waiter seemed to not react to the silvery black-tipped fur. Maybe he shouldn’t though. He had chosen this restaurant because it had a raw meat menu, after all.

She made eye contact, and Jungkook smiled, gesturing her to go first.

Their waiter was a gentle-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair, sparkling dark eyes, and slightly rounded cheeks. He listened carefully to her order with his hands tucked into one another, a napkin draped over his forearm.

“Excellent selection,” he praised, separating his hands. “I would like to invite you to try our house red wine, specialty crafted and bottled specifically for our dear customers to prefer the raw selection. Its deep, rich, fruity flavor will match perfectly.”

He nudged her foot under the table, trying to convince her to ball out. She did not look at him but tapped the tip of her high heel against the side of his shoe.

“That sounds lovely.”

“Wonderful.” The waiter bowed and faced him. “And what would you like this fine evening?”

“Ah, well…”

He somehow managed to mumble his way through the peppered wagyu beef option. Medium rare. The waiter was unperturbed by his obvious anxiousness. He asked if them both if they would like to share the bottle of wine, then, since the pairing would be excellent with both their choices.

“Oh, we can do that?”

For his part, the waiter did not react to Jungkook’s sputter.

His wolf girlfriend shot him an alarmed look before quickly composing herself and saying, “We would love to.”

The waiter bowed again, and repeated their orders to confirm. He took their menus and bowed out, swiftly disappearing to the bustle of the kitchen.

“He was very professional.”

“I… I made a fool of myself,” he groaned, wanting to hide under his hands. Instead, he clasped his cloth napkin for life support. “It’s so obvious I’m low class. I’m sorry.”

Her chuckle was warm. “Don’t apologize. You weren’t rude.” She reached over and pet his knuckles with her fingertips, her ears perked. “Remember, this is my first experience too.”

He could feel eyes on them. “Do you think… anybody here recognizes you?”

Without breaking eye contact, she said, “I think I’ve been identified, yes.” There was no warning in her voice. “But Taehyung and Jimin are here. And I am not embarrassed to be seen with you. They will need to get used to it.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but peek at their surroundings. “Would you call this a soft launch?”

Confusion brushed over her features. “Launch of what?”

He grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

She scowled cutely. “No, tell me. Explain this terminology to me.”

He sometimes forgot she didn’t know these things. He explained, and the topics moved on to other phrases and sayings she had questions on. He remembered once again that she didn’t own a phone; it was hard to recall because she knew so much information about music, science, and even philosophy. She explained how she received the schooling that all Dires did, but also had additional classes with various occupations such as silversmithing, tailoring, butchering, and shadowing the Alpha when he interacted with the human government.

“How does it work? Are you supposed to step into the role as soon as possible?”

She shook her head. “No. When my father chooses to retire, I will defeat him in combat to assume the title of Alpha. I could challenge him before that, but,” she mused, smiling. “Over his dead body, as he would say.”

“Does everything end in fighting?”

“A lot of things do.” She caught his troubled expression. “I think you are mistaken by the nature of combat. For humans, fighting is generally negative, as it often devolves from conflict and hurt. But, for the Dire, combat is essential to life. How we defend our ideals, how we connect with our souls, how we become one with the earth and each other.” The waiter came by with two polished wine glasses, soon followed by a bucket of ice that sat on the edge of the table. “We do not fight to cause pain. Of course, we bruise. We bleed. Bones break occasionally, but not often. With each strike, we communicate. We understand. We bond.”

Their plates of food followed. His steak and roasted vegetables, plated with a crisscross pattern of delicate, buttery sauce, and her select raw meat sliced to thinly marbled red perfection. With a careful tilt of the wine bottle, the waiter filled her glass first, wiping the edge of the opening with his folded cloth napkin in one smooth motion. Jungkook noticed the label of the bottle was a wax seal of a family crest with a handwritten brush script in looping characters. He could barely read what it said, but it was clearly very expensive dark red wine.

His mate raised her head to thank the waiter as Jungkook prayed for his bank account not to end in the negatives after tonight. But, really, did it matter? He was surprised to realize that he didn’t mind too much, especially after seeing the sparkling expression in those gold-flecked eyes as she curiously viewed her plate. The waiter poured him a glass too before placing the bottle on ice, bowing as he implored them to enjoy their meal.

That was the best steak that he had ever consumed to date.

Jungkook did not know, at the time, that it would leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

He did not know, at the time, that he would never, ever visit this establishment again. In fact, both of them would come to unconsciously avoid this type of place, at least for a long time. Yet, in the moment, he felt a rising, pure joy in seeing her spear her meat and dine with him so freely. So lovely. So normal, just like any other couple on a fancy date enjoying each other’s company. He asked if she was enjoying her meal. She nodded, and took a sip of her wine before licking her lips, her brows knitting together before relaxing.

“I think you’re supposed to swirl it a little and sniff it,” Jungkook whispered, holding his own glass as if it was a bomb. “To let out the aromatics or something.” He did not know if he was right or not.

“I can smell it very clearly,” she whispered back, but rocked her wrist regardless. Even she seemed unsure. “Dires do drink alcohol, but I’m told it has a stronger effect on humans than us. Our muscle density and blood chemistry are different.”

“Oh.” He called the Dires slamming shot after shot in the bars of Hongdae. “That’s why they drink so much…” He took a sip and tired not to grimace. It was smooth but quite intense. Then again, it was made to pair with raw meat, so it must be crafted to suit the Dire tastebuds.

“It’s mild. I like it.”

“Y… Yeah…”

She saw right through him. “You don’t like it?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t think I expected the flavor to be so concentrated.” He took another, smaller sip this time.

“Are you pleased with your selections?”

Both of them started and tried their best not to look as startled as their initial reaction. Their waiter had mysteriously appeared right next to their table, smiling, a little mischievously perhaps. His salt-and-pepper hair gleamed under the starry chandeliers above.

“U-Uh, yeah. Yes.” Jungkook cleared his throat. “It’s delicious.”

“Agreed.” She tipped the wine glass towards the waiter. “The red is wonderful. Thank you for suggesting it.”

“My pleasure.”

The waiter bowed deeply, forearm over his vest to smooth it over his apron as he stood up.

“Please, savor your time with us.”

It was not until later that Jungkook pondered on the phrasing of those parting words.

They ate. They drank. They fell deeper and deeper in love, staring into each other’s eyes.

She still had a few slices of meat left on her plate when he began to notice the gold streaks bleeding into her irises.

-

You were so absorbed in your conversation with Jungkook that you failed to notice the distant, unfamiliar sensation piercing your heart until it suddenly became white-hot pain.

Your palm hit the table with a resounding blow.

"Jungkook."

His name shot out of your mouth like a bullet. The pain intensified, forcing you to double over. His eyes went wide at your terrified whisper. Your other hand covered one of your eyes as the stabbing agony scalded through your veins at warp speed. Fuck, it hurt. And… power. You gasped, knocking over your glass, the white tablecloth hemorrhaging red, and suddenly you knew what it was – every single fiber of your being seized against your will, overtaken by devastating, inhuman, feral rage.

Your visible eye shot to the waiter.

The wine.

He smiled.

It was vindicative and cold. 

You poisoned me!

The wolf inside you tore at your insides, ravaged by wrath, breaking every shackle of internal control with alarming ease. You had never felt broken from your inner soul before, but it was happening, it was happening right now, and you cried out. Helpless. The sound of grinding bone. Fur already shooting through your fingers. Jimin and Taehyung at the other table springing to their feet. The growl in your throat unmistakable now and the other patrons gasped in terror. But not Jungkook. 

Your sun looked scared for you. 

Unlike him, you were dreadfully, horribly afraid.

"Jungkook... don't look for me," you pleaded.

You threw yourself out of your seat as silver black-tipped fur bristled all up your arms. Your back. Your legs. The sound of velvet tearing. The despairing feeling of losing your mind to an unstoppable force. Snapping your teeth, half-wolf, half-woman, blinding pain shooting throughout your body at the forced transformation and you tried to fight it. Tried so hard that you tasted blood as a disconcerting screech was ripped from your lungs. Bones cracking. Startling everyone around you as you crawled on all fours, hearing Jungkook calling after you, almost muffled due to your ears flattening against your head, your lips peeling back, sharpened teeth bared. Your shoulder blades grinded against each other, too big for your human form. Wicked black claws slashed the carpet, creating large gashes and deep channels into the wood underneath. 

You let out a bloodcurdling howl of pain.

The restaurant erupted into screams.

Jungkook shouting your name. 

You bellowed at the top of your lungs. 

"DO NOT FOLLOW!"

You must run. 

You ran. 

-

"Always an animal."

Jungkook spun around and punched the waiter in the face, right before Jimin and Taehyung tackled him to the ground. 

"Catch the bottle!" Jimin yelled as the man tried to swing an arm at the ice bucket. 

He caught it mid-air, not knowing where to look, after you or at this sicko with a black eye who definitely did something to you. There was still some wine in there. Taehyung was on his phone, speaking rapidly, and Jimin unforgivingly slammed his knee into the lower back of the waiter, silencing his horrible laughter. The restaurant was an uncontrolled chaos of wailing patrons.

Another violent, heinous howl silenced them all. 

You. 

Jungkook could recognize your broken voice fading into the distance. 

Do not follow. 

"Do not follow," Jimin wheezed. "Please, Jungkook, I know you want to, but do not follow."

He set his jaw and fell to one knee, landing right on the waiter's writhing hand. The man squealed in pain as the sirens sounded outside. 

"Only humans use underhanded tactics," he spat, his voice so low that it seemed to have a cutting edge. The man in Jimin's grip froze, his eyes wide, finally realizing he had pissed off the wrong person.

Jungkook snapped his teeth. 

"Animals fight head on."

-

The Alpha could smell it. 

Rage.  

Fear. 

His daughter. 

He bolted from his seat, forgetting his dinner. The servants started, but he could smell it, it, the horrible scent from memory. It was coming. Coming right for him. 

He howled. 

Loud, resolute, commanding. The servants immediately ran, dashing away, howling with him. The growing sound carried from the echoing stone castle to the homes into the woods, penetrating into the darkness, rising to the sky. The message was loud and clear. Run. Lock the doors. Barricade them. Stay inside. You will die.

The Berserker approaches.

There was the sound of splintering wood and a heavy thud. On all fours, the Alpha shot through the halls, his silver robes tearing apart as he ran. In his lifetime, this had happened only once before. Only once. The heavy pendants of his chain necklace slammed against his broad chest. The large black wolf bounded into the throne room, snarling, seeing his eyes burning gold in the glass of the window.

A silver blur crashed through the glass. 

Teeth, claws, blood, launching right at him. His beautiful daughter nearly the same size as him, a silver wolf with black-tipped fur, but she was there no more. Even the pupils of her eyes had been swallowed by gold fury. Full beast, no human to control the reigns, breaking his heart.

She looked exactly like her mother on her final day. 

He did not hesitate, throwing himself to the side so she missed. She caught herself on all fours, jaws snapping, viciously growling with black lips peeled back. No remorse. Only attack. She flung again and he twisted, but she was faster, slashing through his fur and drawing blood, cutting almost to the bone. 

The Alpha screamed, but not in physical pain. 

She wretched her claws out, swiping at him. 

No. 

No. 

Not his daughter too.

He dodged, throwing a chair into her path. She smashed it into splinters, roaring, all her fur bristling, awful flat glowing gold coins for eyes. 

Then for a split second. 

The Alpha had excellent eyesight. He swore he saw the slightest sliver of pleading. He narrowed his gaze, baring his teeth too as she began to stalk around him, her tail straight up, her pointed ears rigid. Pure aggression once more. The two gigantic wolves circled each other, their claws clicking against stone.

"I swear on my life I will save you, my daughter," the Alpha declared. "You must fight it."

She growled and slammed into him. 

-

part v

--

masterpost

[sunshinelollipopsicle]

Glad You Came

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - harry styles x fem!reader

♡ summary - during a love on tour concert, you happen to get tickets with your friend front row, throughout the performance you happen to catch his eye (Part 2) (Part 3)

♡ warnings - fluff

♡ w/c - 1.2k

♡ a/n - i need ideas for him 😓

You had always been a fan of Harry Styles, since the start of One Direction. Who wouldn't be? He was extremely handsome, sweet, and overall just a comfort person for you.

When he released his third album, Harry's House, and soon after announced he was going on tour, you had took the chance to purchase tickets.

Although you are rather fearful of being alone in big events, and so you bought an extra ticket for your friend who liked some of his songs as well.

After closing your laptop, you run over to the couch so you can tell your friend about the concert. You click on her contact and bring the phone to your ear as it rings. After a few seconds she picks up and you hear her voice, "Hey! What's up?"

"Guess who just bought two tickets to Harry Styles' Love on Tour concert!"

"You didn't."

"I did! It's in two weeks, so we can go shopping to get our outfits some day this week, if that works for you."

"It does, text me when you wanna go! Thank you so much for the ticket, love you."

"Love you too, bye."

The next two weeks went by painfully slow, since you only had the concert on your mind. But finally the day has come, and you couldn't be happier.

You woke up around noon today, not surprising considering you usually sleep late. To pass the time until later today, you invited your friend over, cooked your lunch while listening to Harry's music, did each other's nails, and watched a movie.

Finally you two decided to get ready, so you took a shower and your friend did afterwards, both wearing fluffy robes. She brought her outfit with her, and yours was in your closet. You both laid the clothes out on your bed and both started to do your own hair.

Next, you both did your makeup and then finally put on your outfits. Your friend comes out from the bathroom to where you were putting on your jewelry. You were wearing a glittery skirt that was red and a white tube top with some small red hearts, and red and white converse. You had hoop earrings in and your hair was down.

A short while later you two get in your car and you start driving to the stadium, giddy as ever from excitement. After about an hour of driving, you arrive and get out of the car to walk to the entrance.

You have to wait in a long line before they check your tickets and give you two light up bracelets. They let you in and you hold hands as you walk to your spots right in front of the stage. You two chat about random stuff waiting for the show to begin.

After a bit, the openers come out and soon enough the man himself, Harry Styles, comes out jumping around the stage. You two yell with everyone else in the stadium and jump along with the people around you.

He starts with Music For a Sushi Restaurant, singing and dancing, most people including yourself doing the same. He looks around at the crowd smiling into the microphone, and soon enough his eyes fall on you. He momentarily stutters on the lyric and quickly looks away. On the big screens with the cameras following him on stage you're able to see a light pink tinge form on his cheeks.

You're snapped out of staring by your friend who grabs your arms jumping. "Did you see that! He wants you," she squeals.

"Calm down! He probably was looking at someone behind us," you shrug, but you hoped he had been looking at you.

Throughout the show he wonders to himself what a girl such as yourself is doing at a silly little show like his. He tries to steal glances at you, but ends up getting distracted a few more times than he would like.

When he finishes the song Daylight, he takes a few minutes to interact with some fans, having funny conversations and reading their signs.

He then comes over to where you are and crouches on the stage, laughing at how your friend hits your arm a few times.

"What's your name, love?" Harry speaks into the microphone. He watches as you tilt your head and point to yourself, as to say 'me?' Cute, he thinks to himself. "Yes, you!"

You blush and say your name, to which he replies, "Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl." The crowd starts to yell and you find your hands sweating from the attention and seeing yourself on the big screens.

You thank him and he stands up and winks, jogging to the end of the stage where a guard is as the intro to the next song begins. He speaks into the man's ear, "You saw that girl I just spoke to? The pretty one in the red skirt?" The man nods, "Please take her backstage before she has the chance to leave, her friend may also come if she wants to." The man nods once again and Harry pats his back with a smile and thanks him.

He continues to perform and some time later the show comes to an end, unfortunately for everyone there. You and your friend are tired from yelling the songs and standing around. You two wait some time for a decent amount of the crowd to leave so it isn't too packed while you try to exit.

Before you two can leave, you spot a security guard making his way towards you two. "Excuse me, it was requested that you both follow me backstage, if you wish to, of course."

"Yes! She does wish to," your friend pushes you slightly forward.

You laugh nervously, "But-"

The man speaks up, "A ride home will also be provided if necessary."

Your friend smiles and pats your shoulder, "Go, I can take the car back to your house and then go home, you go back there and have the best time, then call me and tell me everything!"

"Are you sure? I can come home with-"

"No. I'll get going now, see you!" She waves and turns around, you watch her walk away and turn to the man again, "So.. how are you?"

He smiles, "Great, thank you. Follow me this way."

You follow him and go behind some curtains and he brings you to a big empty room with some couches, a TV, a table with snacks, and some other stuff that makes it more comfortable.

"Wait in here and someone will be with you shortly."

"Okay, thank you."

He nods and walks out of the room and you find yourself roaming the room, looking at stuff to pass the time. Before you know it the door opens and you jump and turn towards it.

Your jaw drops when Harry walks into the room, closing it behind him. "Hello," he says a little nervously. "I apologize if I made you nervous or scared before."

You shake your head, "Not at all! Well, maybe, but no harm done."

He smiles, "Great. If you're wondering why you're back here, it's because I was hoping to get to know you better, if that's alright with you."

You walk a little closer towards him, fingers locking behind your back out of your nervous habit, but smile anyway, "That's more than alright, I would love to know you better too."

"'Course. Let's start now, shall we?" Harry points to the couch, and you follow him as he takes a seat. He looks up, staring for a moment, and sticks out his hand, "My name is Harry Styles."

[kyuuppi]

help, my boyfriend has no sex drive! (5)

Pairing: Kenma x reader (f)

Contents: smut; established relationship; feminization, "femboy", heavy praise kink (Kenma); rough sex; creampie; Christmas themes

Words: 3.4k

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

“But as long as you’d love me so—

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snoooow”

Kenma tries not to visibly cringe at the cheery music as he emerges from his office, finally finished with his obligatory three-hour “Christmas special” stream.

As you had been for the past month, you’re softly singing along to some Christmas carol playing from your shitty laptop speaker. You had busied yourself with reorganizing the presents under the full-sized tree—something you had insisted on buying for the apartment.

Kenma had little more interest in most holidays than the “free day from school” perks. But as he watches you scurry around your shared living room wearing candy cane-themed stockings, an oversized ugly Christmas sweater, and a hundred-yen-store Santa hat, Kenma is thankful you had expressed your desire to celebrate with him. He will gladly participate in anything that makes you this innocently cheerful. 

Your background music is abruptly cut short and you frown when you realize your laptop has just died again. But the disappointment is cut short when you notice Kenma, standing awkwardly by the couch in the dark Christmas sweater you had insisted he wear for his stream. 

“KenKen—your stream is over?”

Kenma smiles softly at how eager you look, eyes practically sparkling. 

“Yeah, I’m free now. You wanted to open presents, right?” 

You nod quickly, guiding him to the couch and leaving only to retrieve a cup of hot cocoa—extra whipped cream—and a slice of homemade apple pie, placing them both in front of him on the coffee table. He thanks you quietly, predictably digging into the apple pie first. 

“So I think we should start with your family’s gifts first,” you begin, already passing him a small stack of presents, all wrapped in identical green and red paper. 

After nearly half an hour you two had finally worked your way through nearly all of the presents. Most were the typical things–an abhorrent amount of socks and pajamas from your families, Kenma’s mother gifting both of you very cringey matching couple sets with any video game character she saw. You had to try very hard not to laugh at Kenma’s face when you opened a matching Kirby and Jigglypuff sweater set with a handwritten heart note.

“Aww, don’t pout KenKen, your mom was just being thoughtful.” “They’re not even in the same series.” 

A few gifts had been surprising–namely Kuroo’s cat ear headphones—to which Kenma promptly sent a text telling Kuroo to never buy him Christmas gift ever again— and even a signed pro jersey from Hinata. Even if he didn’t voice it, you noticed how touched Kenma seemed by the gesture and you made a mental note to buy something to display it in the apartment. A few gifts were even from Kenma’s fans, sending various game merchandise, snacks from their country, and even fan art of the two of you. 

Finally, the last remaining gifts were the ones you made for each other. You didn’t want to pressure Kenma to buy you anything fancy–and you also couldn’t afford to reciprocate with anything fancy, so you set a strict budget. 

Kenma was unexpectedly good at keeping secrets so you weren’t sure what he had gotten you–probably a game he wanted you to play together but the box was unexpectedly big—

Regardless, you knew what you got him , and it was something you had been thinking about for months. Needless to say, you were eager for him to open it. 

“Who should go firs—”

“I’ll go!”

Kenma raises a brow but complies as you all but shove your gift into his hands. The outside is unassuming—a flat package wrapped in red paper with a holographic silver stick-on bow in the center. Somehow, he feels vaguely uneasy. 

Cautiously, Kenma begins unwrapping the gift. You practically vibrate with excitement in your seat, eagerly watching as his thin fingers peel away the final layers of colorful paper. 

Finally, your present reveals itself, soft nylon fabric in a bright red shade. Kenma seems confused, unsure of what exactly he is looking at until he shifts and the fabric unravels into two long strips. 

“Ta-daa,” you cheer, “your very own pair of thigh-high stockings!”

Kenma looks horrified. 

“This is a joke,” Kenma states, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as you. 

“What do you mean? Don’t you like them? Look, they’re even Christmas-themed!”

You guide his hands over to the top of the socks where a large red ribbon sits. Two short red strings dangle the ribbon with a small, fuzzy white ball at the end each. You make him squeeze the soft ball for good measure. His expression doesn’t change. 

“Why would you buy me these? You wasted actual, real-life money for this,” Kenma bemoans. 

“Didn’t your fans suggest something like this before? I think they called them programmer socks—”

“ Oh my god please stop talking.”

Kenma lets out a long, suffering groan as you eye him with an absolute shit-eating grin.

It’s fine, he thinks. You wanted to be a little shit like Kuroo but it was just a prank. He could probably Venmo back the money you wasted on this and never have to think of this situation ever again. He’ll toss them in the back of the closet next to those cat ear headphones Kuroo bought him. 

He is proven wrong when you nudge his shin with your own stocking-clad toes and give him an expectant look. 

“Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to try them on?”

Kenma’s brain very obviously fries and you have to resist the urge to laugh at his expression. 

“C’mon, I spent actual, real-life money on these," you tease, throwing his words back at him, "I wanna see you wear them at least once!”

“You have to be joking,” he all but whines. 

Your excited expression tells him you are very much not joking. Kenma considers refusing more firmly. He knows you genuinely care about him and would never push him to do something he was uncomfortable with—or at least so long as it wouldn’t actually kill him.  

But your eyes are wide and practically sparkling as you look at him expectantly with that cute little grin–the crippling humiliation that will likely haunt him every night for the rest of his life is nothing compared to your happiness. Kenma sighs deeply and you know you’ve won. 

He ignores your excited squeals as he stands up and shuffles towards the bathroom in something akin to a walk of shame. 

As Kenma stares at his own lithe form in the mirror he’s positive that he has never felt so mortified in his whole life. Not when he accidentally set a ball into Lev’s face during a match in high school. Not when he missed his ult in a team fight and cost his team the ranked match in League. Not even when he came so hard he nearly passed out while getting his dick sucked during a live stream. 

Kenma can barely even recognize himself in the mirror, eyes flitting from his familiar golden gaze down to his oversized black and white Nightmare Before Christmas sweater and, finally, to his thin legs wrapped in an inappropriately bright red pair of thigh-high socks.

Somehow, the stockings feel even more exposing than if he were just naked. He feels like some cheap, poorly drawn femboy character in a hentai. One of his first thoughts was they don’t look nearly as appealing on him as they do on you. His legs are too lanky–straight and lean from years of volleyball but missing the curve of healthy fat yours have. His face heats up as he visualizes your thighs currently clad in your own pair of red and white striped stockings. 

“KenKen are you ready yet? You’re taking foreeeeever!”

His heart rate picks up and he tries to remind himself it's just you, the person who makes him feel safest. He’s going to go out there, you’re going to see how cringe he looks, then you'll both laugh and never talk about this again. 

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, immediately meeting your gaze as you sit on the couch where he left you. Breath bated, he watches as your eyes dart down his body, darting around his lower half with your mouth agape. He tries his best not to squirm under your stare. 

“Fuck, Ken,” you chuckle breathily, “you look amazing.”

Kenma’s breath hitches, certainly not expecting that type of response. As you continue to take him in he realizes your gaze looks almost hungry, like you’re ready to devour him–shit, are you seriously into this?

He finds his answer in the way you motion him over, helpless in how his body obeys before he can even process the silent request. You reach out hesitantly, fingertips so close to his thighs he can feel your body heat even through the thin fabric. You glance up at him, asking permission, and he’s nodding immediately, desperate for your touch.

Your fingers land near his left knee, trailing up slowly and making his whole body tremble lightly. When your fingertips catch on the hem of the stockings he nearly gasps and then you're brushing his soft skin directly, only stopping when you reach the edge of the sweater that’s just barely covering his rapidly hardening cock. 

“You’re so pretty,” you praise, "my pretty boy."

Kenma makes a choked sound, surprised and mildly offended but also awfully turned on to hear any form of praise from your lips. No, he wants to argue, you’re the pretty one –but you look up at him, so pleased, that he can’t remember how to speak. 

“And now we match,” you sing, tone innocent as you raise your leg between his own. His eyes follow, nearly hypnotized by the contrast between your red-and-white stockings against his red ones before your clothed shin brushes against his crotch in a way that is anything but innocent. He has to grab the back of the couch near your head to keep his knees from buckling as he groans.

You seem to take some form of pity on him because you let up on his crotch with a giggle, making room for him to sit down beside you and catch his breath. Even when you let him rest your attention never strays from the item of clothing, hand idly stroking his thigh while you continue to drink in the sight of his pale skin contrasting with the scarlet cloth. 

“Do you really like it that much,” he asks, almost hesitant. 

He’s surprised at how sheepish you become, moving your hand away as your face slightly flushes. 

“Um–yeah. I know it’s kinda weird, sorry, you just look really pretty sometimes.”

Kenma frowns slightly and takes your hand back, returning it to his thigh with his own on top of yours. The action was meant to reassure you but it felt too bold and he avoids eye contact as he speaks.

“You don’t have to apologize, I don’t hate it…”

He sees the way you perk up, practically beaming, from the corner of his eye and is quick to clarify less you try to buy him a pair of panties or something next year. 

“It’s not my thing—I prefer seeing you in cute clothes…but I can try things like this if it makes you this happy.”

“Aww, KenKen, that’s so sweet!”

Kenma huffs, breath nearly knocked out of him when you launch yourself into his chest, planting noisy kisses all over his face. He tries his best to scowl but he’s pretty sure he’s failing by the way you giggle at his expression. Your Santa hat gets knocked off in the commotion but neither of you care. Kenma even takes the opportunity to bury his fingers in your messy hair as your kisses finally focus on his lips. 

Eventually, the kisses deepen, morphing from quick pecks to slow and open-mouthed. Your tongue invades his mouth, gravity giving you a clear advantage as you take charge of this kiss. But not one to easily accept defeat, Kenma takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass in a way that has you gasping in surprise. You start to grind on him, both of you letting out soft sounds between kisses. 

It’s you who pulls away first, making Kenma softly whine in protest, gaze hazy as he blinks up at you in question. 

“Wanna ride you,” you explain simply. 

Kenma hisses out his approval and obediently waits as you pull down your lounge shorts. You yank them down your legs and fling them across the living room with a little too much force, accidentally hitting the Christmas tree. You laugh at the sight of your fuzzy white shorts hanging on the tree like some soft of kinky Christmas ornament but Kenma is quick to redirect your attention by pulling you back down for another kiss. 

He grips your ass again, this time bare, and moves his fingers to prepare you for his dick but—

He abruptly stops and pulls away from the kiss in shock. 

“You’re already this wet?” His expression looks genuinely surprised and you can’t help but giggle. 

“I told you, you look really pretty.”

Kenma groans, not sure if he’s annoyed or turned on but his cock throbs all the same. You pull up the bottom half of his sweater to reach his black boxers. He’s so hard that it's almost difficult to get them off but he helps you pull them down just enough to free his leaking cock. It takes a moment to properly position yourself from this new angle, hindered by your bulky sweater and the headrest of the couch digging into your side but you manage to guide his leaky head to your drenched hole and ease down.

You both groan as he breaches your cunt, your wetness making the slide smooth even as you reach his thick base.

“F-fuck, Ken, you always feel so good,” you moan.

The praise feels like a punch to the gut and he’s thankful he’s already lying down so he can’t embarrass himself further by losing his balance. He’s coming to realize even if feminization isn’t his thing, praise might be. He thinks he'd do just about anything if it pleased you—if it made you look down at him with those shiny eyes and call him your good boy—fuck. Kenma has to force himself back to reality before he makes himself cum too quickly just by his own fantasies. 

You readjust your weight, leaning back and using his bent knees as leverage. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his stockings as you begin to move, raising to his tip before dropping your whole weight down. It feels good—mind-numbingly so—but he finds it looks even better. The angle you put yourself into gives him an unobstructed view of your face–eyes pinched closed and reddened lips open in pleasure, your breasts–soft and bouncing with every movement–and, best of all, your tight hole sucking him in with every uptake. 

He can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are connected. A creamy white ring is quickly forming at the base of his cock from how soaked you are, thin strings sticking to your pussy like webs. Framing it all are your thick thighs, muscles straining with your movements and squeezed by those god damned red-and-white striped thigh highs.

Fuck, he wishes he could record this.

He has apparently said that aloud on accident because now you’re grinning down at him conspiratorially. 

“Y-yeah?” you stutter out, “you wanna make a movie with me?”

Kenma doesn’t verbally answer but he doesn’t need to. Instead, he’s gripping your hips and guiding your pace, making you bounce on his cock faster while his own hips start to meet your thrusts. 

It has only been a few minutes but it's becoming clear your stamina is far from athletic. Your thighs burn and your pace stumbles but Kenma is quick to take advantage of the situation, using a strength you didn’t know he was capable of to roll you over and push you face down. 

“Kenma, wh—oh!”

Any dissent you had intended to make is abruptly cut off when your boyfriend, one knee digging into the couch for leverage, feeds his length back into your greedy hole and sets a pace that has you nearly screaming. His hips snap into you, hard, and you scramble to find something to hold on to. One hand finds the armrest of the couch near your head, nails nearly tearing into the fabric, while the other ends up behind you, digging into his thigh as he rams his hips into you. You’re drooling as you manage to stutter out a barely coherent statement through your moans.

“K-Ken, so h-hard, fuck—”

“Yeah,” He replies, sounding breathless but not nearly as wrecked as you. You curse his retired high school athlete stamina. 

“Am I still your pretty boy?”

The question momentarily shocks you. You aren’t sure what response he’s looking for but you answer honestly, too fucked out to ponder on it. 

“Y-yesyesyes, the prettiest! ”

“You like getting fucked by your pretty boy?”

“Yeeeess, I l-love it—oh god—”

One hand reaches up to grip your hair, tugging your hair in a way you aren’t sure is punishment or a reward. You cry out all the same, cunt squeezing him for dear life as he hits something deep deep deep inside of you. You’re fairly certain you’ve never been fucked this hard in your life. The sweet, no-sex-drive-having boyfriend trope becomes little more than a pipe dream as his hips smack into your ass without reprieve. 

“‘m g-gonna cum,” you warn.

Kenma’s grip on your hip tightens and he adjusts his angle to hit the spot he knows makes your toes curl and your pitch turns airy. The nail in the coffin comes when he releases your hair, but only to start rubbing your clit, remembering your favorite rhythm from the time he watched you masturbate. 

Expectedly, you cum, toes curling and squeals reaching a pitch you think might cause your boyfriend hearing damage. Your whole body seizes with your orgasm, cunt spasming and thighs squeezing shit as you please for him to stop, go harder–you aren’t sure. 

Kenma forces you to ride through it, fucking you even as your hips stutter violently and never letting up on your pulsating nub. It's only when you're nearing tears from the overstimulation that Kenma stops, moaning sweetly as his own orgasm overtakes him. He collapses against you in exhaustion as warmth fills you from deep inside, making a mess on your thighs as it gushes out between you. 

“Mm, y’r heavyyy,” you complain sleepily. 

Kenma grunts something in response but doesn’t bother moving. In fact, he seems to make himself more comfortable by moving his hands to find your own. He slips his long fingers in the spaces between your own, locking your hands together. Your heart swells at the action, constantly reminded how much this boy loves you even when he doesn't vocalize it very often.  

You allow him a few more moments of peace, listening to his harsh pants die down into something more calm before you speak again. 

“By the way, what was my present?”

Kenma stiffens against you, having completely forgotten about Christmas altogether. Quickly, he pulls away from you and the loss of warmth almost makes you regret saying anything. On shaky legs, Kenma shuffles over to the forgotten box, wrapped in royal blue paper and topped with a pretty gold ribbon. He comes back to the couch, gingerly helping you sit up before placing the box on your lap. 

You’re immediately surprised by the hefty weight of the box and grow curious as you tear at the paper. Within seconds, the logo and picture on the box become clear, making you gasp in shock. 

“Kenmaaaa,” you whine, trying not to tear up as you pout at him. 

To his credit, Kenma looks honestly guilty as he avoids your eyes. 

“We set a twenty-thousand-yen spending limit, ” you remind him.

“I know but—this is basically a necessity. Your old one was going to die any day now,” Kenma reasons, helping you pull out the shiny new laptop –in rose gold no less. 

“And it's a gaming laptop–that means you can play with me more so it’s basically a gift for me more than you,” he continues. 

You know he’s absolutely pulling excuses out of his ass but you can’t help the rush of affection at how much Kenma wants to spoil you. He always buys you the things you want, even when you insist on not wanting to take advantage of him as a wealthy streamer and businessman. He usually comes up with some excuse, I was going to buy one anyway so we can share or I have too much money this month, taxes will be a hassle if I don’t spend it. 

But he is right–your old laptop was on its last leg and every time you opened a Word document for school you had to pray it wouldn’t crash before you could save your draft.

You softly smile as you trace the box with a finger, elated that he even remembered which color you wanted. He grins at how pleased you clearly are, even if you won’t say it. 

“Besides,” his grin suddenly turns sly as he places a hand on the swell of your hip, “I heard the webcam is really great for recording movies.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

Not So Humble Beginnings

Love You a Little Bit Series

Synopsis: Jack is captivated by a new country singer out of Nashville when he goes to one of her shows reluctantly. When the two of you meet, Jack finds out about your hesitations on getting to know him and tries to do his best in order to change your mind.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Country Singer!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack sighed in frustration as he, Urban, and Clay finally got settled in their seats on the balcony of the venue to see some singer that Urban had been obsessed with lately and apparently he learned on the way over here that Clay was infatuated with her too. He didn't even know her name, but everyone had insisted that he get some fresh air and get out of the studio at least for a few hours despite his protests. He was quickly pulled out of his thoughts by Clay talking to him.

“Will you get that look off your face? You can relax for a few hours.”

“You and Urban wanted to come, not me. I have a deadline to meet and I seem to be the only one that cares.”

“Will your ass stop being so fucking dramatic? You might end up liking her music.” Urban added as he took a long sip of the Coke that he had gotten before walking upstairs to the balcony area.

“Who is performing anyway?” Jack asked as he rolled his eyes since he knew that there was no possible way that he could escape.

“Her name is Y/N Y/M/N, she's gotten really popular over the last year. You've probably heard one of her songs but didn't know it was her.” Clay answered as he noticed that the venue was starting to fill up.

Jack simply shrugged in response because the name didn't sound familiar to him and pulled out his phone to pass the time in the hopes that you would be coming on stage soon.

About thirty more minutes passed when the lights began to dim and cheers were erupting across the entire venue. Jack was taken aback when he noticed that Clay and Urban had joined in and simply shook his head at them. Smoke was lining the stage before you appeared and the screams got even louder.

“Nashville, it's been a while, but I promised that I would be back for you. How are we doing tonight?”

Once Jack had seen you for the first time, his eyes went wide and went even wider when you opened your mouth and began to sing.

“You got that

90 proof love when the bar shuts down

2am you're just drunk On the town

Got that lonely kickin in

Jack D got you lookin for a rewind

One more last time

Like the last time

Hittin up my phone

Sayin swearing that you miss me

You ain't been the same

Ever since you ain't with me

But I know You ain't here in the name of love

You're just here in the name of whiskey”

And you could play the guitar along with the piano.

The entire time that you performed, Jack was mesmerized and made it his mission to find everything out about you that he possibly could once the show was over. What he didn't expect was when you were singing your last song, “Buckle Bunny”, a person that he assumed was on your team came up to him on the balcony.

“Mr. Harlow, I'm Carmen, Ms. Y/L/N's assistant, Ms. Y/L/N is requesting that you meet her backstage once the show is over.” She politely said to him.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Jack answered nonchalantly, but nevertheless he was excited.

Once you got off the stage, Carmen handed you a water bottle that you took a generous swig from before she was eyeing you as she led the two of you down the hallway leading to your dressing room.

“What, you weirdo?” You asked her as she then took your guitar from you as the two of you were now in front of your dressing room door.

“You won't believe who came tonight!!” Carmen basically yelled at you, but then she got quiet and you were waiting for her to go on.

“Are you going to tell me or just stand there smiling?”

“JACK HARLOW!” Carmen exclaimed excitedly, but you just continued to look at her which immediately made her get a confused look on her face.

“Don't you like his music? I invited him backstage when the show was over so that the two of you could talk.”

“YOU WHAT!?” You replied while looking at her in disbelief.

“I found out where he was sitting and told him to come backstage! What's the problem? Having a connection like that could be huge for you.”

You took a deep sigh before responding to her and had to realize that she couldn't have known your dislike for him since you had never told her.

“He was rude to my best friend Rory and ever since then I was never able to look at him the same. She has a vendetta against him and since we're basically the same person, so do I.”

Your next thoughts were interrupted by security bringing Jack back along with two other people and Carmen quickly pinched you to tell you to fix your face.

Before Jack could say anything to you, one of the people who he was with quickly stepped in front of him and you learned that his name was Urban who come to find out was Jack's best friend and he simply told you how much he loved your music. While the other person who introduced himself you learned was Clay and Jack's younger brother. The resemblance was undeniable and soon it was Jack's turn.

“It's nice to meet you and I love your voice.” Was all he said before bringing you into a hug which you gladly accepted.

“Thank you so much and thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.” You replied when the two of you finally broke apart.

“These two said I could use a break from being in the studio all day so the credit goes to them for bringing me.”

“I'm happy that I was able to distract you for a little while. Do you usually record in Nashville?” You asked to make friendly conversation.

“As of lately. I've been spending a lot of my time here and back home in Louisville.”

“Oh, that's right. I forgot that's where you're from.”

“So you’re a fan I take it?”

By this time, Carmen had walked off and she said for you to fix your face, but not to lie to the man.

“At one point I was.” You answered being completely honest. By this time, everyone else was deep in their own conversations and no one was really paying the two of you any attention.

“Wait? What changed?” Jack asked while laughing because he thought you were joking with him.

“My best friend met you and you weren't the nicest towards her so seeing as me and her are the same person, that's what started it.”

Jack looked at you confused and didn't quite know what to say next as you were literally just staring at him with a tight lipped smile. He didn't get a chance to respond as Carmen interrupted making all of your attention go to her.

“Hey, more people are asking for you.”

“Okay. Jack, it was nice meeting you. If you're going to be around Nashville for a while maybe we'll run into each other.”

“Uh yeah, nice meeting you too.”

Jack didn't know how to feel about the conversation that had just taken place and he was at a loss as you walked away from him and was laughing at something Carmen had whispered to you. First thinking that you were joking and then confirming that you weren't by your continued explanation made a pit grow in the bottom of his stomach. He had quickly become a fan during your show and seeing you perform, but it was clear that you didn't want anything to do with him despite how polite you had been. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Urban telling him that he and Clay wanted to go to a restaurant down the street from the venue and Jack quickly agreed with the thought of you now being pushed to the back of his mind.

A few days later, Jack was back in the studio when he decided to take a breather and was making his way to the front of the building to exit it in order to get some fresh air. You had been on his mind heavily and he simply wanted to get another opportunity to speak with you in the hopes that the two of you could reconcile and start fresh without the incident concerning your best friend hanging over his head. He knew that he wasn't a mean or a rude person so this had truly been bothering him and he hated the fact that now that was your perception of him. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going as he was looking down at his phone and mistakenly bumped into someone.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He heard a small voice say, and fate must have been on his side because when he looked down, he was staring at you.

“Y/N, uh hey. It's not your fault. I wasn't watching where I was going. You record here too?” He asked, trying to make conversation, but all you did was give him that same tight lipped smile.

“Yes, I always have since I started recording my music. I'm always in studio B. For some reason all the other ones don't do it the same for me.” You politely answered as you typed on your phone quickly to let Carmen know where you were. Of course you were late once again and she was currently yelling at you through a series of text messages.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Jack spoke up again, coming to the conclusion that he probably wasn't going to get very far with you. At least not today. This conversation felt like pulling teeth and last time he checked he wasn't a dentist.

“Well, I don't want to keep you, so….”

Jack didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before you immediately cut him off.

“See you around.” You quickly answered as you made your way down the hallway. Jack simply sighed as he watched you walk away, but at least he knew now where he could find you multiple days out of the week.

After that night at your show, Jack found out as much as he could about you which had him staying up at least until two that morning. He found out that you were an independent artist that was born in Louisville, grew up in Nashville and was now residing there. You were two years older than him and he found out that you were a pisces like he was. You had released a few EP's and had also released your album Buckle Bunny which had been at number one on the charts for weeks.

Once Jack made it back in the studio, all eyes were on him as he sat down and Clay asked him if he was ready to start back up again.

“I just ran into Y/N. Literally. Like I almost knocked her over.”

“Wait! She's here!?” Clay excitedly asked because he definitely wanted to work on a song with you if the opportunity presented itself.

“She's always in studio B apparently since that's her favorite one she told me and I've come to the conclusion that she also hates me.”

“Wait, what? How do you figure that?” Urban asked as he looked at him confused.

“Apparently I was rude to her friend when her friend had met me before even though I never remember being rude to any fan, but that's what did it. And now she and her best friend have a vendetta against me.”

“Oh.”

“I asked, so you must be a fan, then? Since she knew I was from Louisville and she then proceeded to say that she used to be and that had obviously taken me by surprise and then she goes and tells me why. I legit thought she was joking at first.”

“Damn. Jack messed things up before anything really got started.”

“She simply keeps things short and sweet. I want to fix this with her so hopefully she gives me the opportunity to do that.”

“Hmm, from the way that these two interactions went, I highly doubt it.”

The studio session came and went as Jack didn't stay for much longer since he knew that he was going to be back early the next morning. As he was laying down and drifting off to sleep, the wheels in Jack’s head started turning as he was trying to think of a way to ease the tension between the two of you. After about thirty minutes of trying to come up with an idea, it finally came to him.

The other night he had watched an interview of you that he had come across while scrolling through Instagram and you said that your favorite flowers happened to be sunflowers and roses and you liked how they looked when they ended up being combined together. Starting tomorrow he was going to leave a bouquet of flowers for you in the studio and write a note attached to it hoping that you would see it.

Meanwhile it was three in the morning and you were wide awake while on facetime with your best friend Rory who had just gotten back from New York and you had yet to tell her what happened between you and Jack. It had now been a few days and you figured that now was a good time to tell her.

“RoRo.”

“Oh goodness. You only use that tone when it's something serious so go ahead and spit it out.”

“Guess who came to one of my shows a few weeks ago?”

“Ohh was it Method Man!? He is GORGEOUS.”

“Rory, he has CHILDREN as old as you.” You exclaimed while rolling your eyes, but she just shrugged.

“I'm just trying to find where the point is in your statement… oh, that's right. There isn't one.” She answered as you saw her starting to unpack her suitcases. She always did right after she got back from a trip and you told her that she was a psychopath for doing it.

“You are so damn annoying, but it was your favorite rapper.”

“Me and Cardi got beef. We not talking right now. Have you seen those ticket prices for her tour? I'll be in the parking lot.”

“NOT HER!”

“Then who!?”

“Jack Harlow.”

Rory's entire expression changed as she rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth at your response.

“Don't nobody care about his big headed ass anymore.”

“He came backstage and I met him and we can thank Carmen for that one. Completely caught me off guard.”

“Hmm…. I hope he wasn't rude to you. And why would she set you up like that!?”

“And I told him about his little run in with you and how I used to be a fan until that happened.”

“Girl no the FUCK you didn't…” Rory exclaimed while pausing to look at you from unpacking.

“I think he thought that I was joking with him at first, but he changed his tune quickly after that.”

“I cannot believe you told him that to his face.”

“Well what else was I supposed to do? Lie? It's not like I was mean about it.” You asked and she was still looking at you dumbfounded.

“Well no, but a connection like that would do you some good in the music industry. You're just starting out and the last thing that you need to be doing is making enemies.”

“Umm, excuse me ma'am? Whose side are you on?” You asked while munching on your sour patch kids.

“Always yours! Don't be stupid but I don't know, maybe you should give him a chance.”

“What the? What the hell have you done with my best friend? Any other time he's brought up, you're ready to burn him at the stake!”

“I'm still here! But I mean truth be told that was so long ago. I do still have a vendetta against him, but to be honest it wasn't totally his fault. Soooo, you could probably let him off the hook.”

“Rory…… I basically just told this man to fuck off and now you're trying to tell me it was a misunderstanding!?”

“I… well…. It wasn't really him, but more so who he was with. His manager, Neelam.”

“RORY WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THE ENTIRE STORY!?!? NOT YOU MAKING ME HATE THIS MAN ALL FOR IT NOT TO BE HIS FAULT!”

“I'M SORRY! MAYBE YOU TWO CAN START FRESH!”

“Fuck! Rory! Now he probably thinks I hate him!”

“We can fix this!”

“No, Ro. You are staying as far away from this situation as possible. We do record at the same studio so maybe I'll run into him again.”

“Ask him out on a date!”

“WHAT!? NO! I don't even know if he likes me like that and he probably doesn't, considering how I interacted with him.”

“You never know though. I think you should go for it.”

“It seems like every time I listen to you, I find myself in a bigger mess than before.”

“I'm getting better!”

All you did was give her the side eye as you continued to eat your sour patch kids.

Over the course of the next few weeks, every single Friday, there would be a bouquet of flowers waiting for you at the studio before you would start your session and you had no idea where they had been coming from or who had placed them there.

Obviously they knew you well since it was always a combination of your favorite flowers which were sunflowers and roses. Carmen came to the conclusion that you had a secret admirer and you just shook your head at her, but you definitely wanted to know who this person was. Surprisingly you hadn't crossed paths with Jack even though you had been hoping that you would. But you figured that when the time was right, it would happen. You wanted to make amends and hopefully get to know him, if he still wanted to that is.

It was close to four in the morning and everyone had already left when you found yourself gathering all your belongings so that you could head home. Once you made sure that you had everything, including your newest bouquet of flowers, you started walking towards the front of the building.

Once in the parking lot, you realized that your car was parked next to Jack’s, as he was leaning on it and typing quickly on his phone. You walked up to him and waited for him to notice you. When he didn't, you simply tapped him on the arm.

“Hey. Haven't seen you for a while.”

“Oh, hey. Yeah, it's been a minute. I've been doing some appearances here and there between being here so I guess we've been missing each other.” Jack said as he now gave you his full attention and placed his phone in his pocket.

“You usually leave this late?” He asked and you immediately shook your head no.

“No, but I had a few more things that I wanted to work on before I left so I stayed a little while longer. I could ask you the same thing.”

“I couldn't sleep, so I came for about two hours. I'm about to head out now.” Jack answered as he was looking at you holding the bouquet of flowers and hoping that you would mention the notes that he had been leaving for you.

“Um, I'm not tired and there's a 24 hour diner not too far away from here. Want to get breakfast with me?” You asked as you looked up at him hopefully.

Meanwhile Jack's heart rate had increased and he couldn't believe what was happening.

“I just feel like I didn't really give us a chance to be friends and I want to change that and get to know you for myself. If you want to, of course.” You added as Jack still hadn't said anything.

He simply unlocked his car and opened the passenger side door for you.

“Clay and Urban are going to be so jealous.” He said before laughing and helping you into his Jeep as you smiled at him.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Crushing On A Classmate

MM!Turtles x reader

A/N: I am not American and have never been to an American high school, so I’m just guessing based off of movies and what little I know.

Warnings: Just spelling and sweet Mutant Mayhem stuff💙❤️💜🧡

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Leonardo:

Leonardo would subtly try to impress you with his skills. He'd offer to help with homework, carry your books, and be your study partner, all while fumbling over his words, making his face feel hotter and hotter with every word.

Doing those times he brought you to the sewer to do homework together, he might showcase his expertise with his swords, hoping to catch your attention. He's protective, making sure you're always safe, and tries to be your personal hero. But then you would remind him that you still had homework due for tomorrow.

Leo would definitely be nervous around you, especially in the beginning. His usually somewhat calm and collected demeanor might falter, and he'd find himself stumbling over words or overthinking every interaction. Like that one time you didn’t hear him say hey. Left him in bed for days, wondering if you hated him all of a sudden.

When you sit next to him in class, Leo would feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. He'd try to act nonchalant, but you might catch him stealing glances at you. He'd be attentive, always ready to lend a helping hand if you need notes or assistance with anything, even if his hands would shake around his pencil.

Back at the lair, Leo would unintentionally bring you up in conversation more often than he realizes, with a dreamy look in his eyes. His brothers would pick up on it and start teasing him about his newfound interest.

Donatello might playfully analyze Leo's behavior, while Michelangelo and Raphael would make sly comments, causing Leo to blush and stammer in response. He was almost ready to die whenever they would do it with you around.

Michelangelo would tease him by singing love songs whenever you're mentioned, making Leo wish he could retreat into his shell.

Splinter, being wise, would observe Leo's actions and share a knowing smile. He'd offer guidance on matters of the heart, reminding him that it's okay to be vulnerable and express his feelings. Yet his dad would talk about love and dating as if he was an expert, especially after Scumbug had made her way into his life.

Leo might not openly admit to his crush, but his brothers knew straight away. He couldn’t keep a secret, and especially not when it came to you, but he tried. But after Raph just asked him once, Leo broke down admitting to everything. Yes he found you attractive, and yes he really wanted you to be his human girlfriend!

Raphael:

The tough and rebellious Raphael would probably act aloof at first, but deep down, he'd be more protective and caring over you than he'd like to admit. He might tease you playfully and engage in some friendly banter, but he often feared he pushed it too far, even if you laughed at his teasing.

Raphael would likely go out of his way to help you out in tough situations, and you'd catch him stealing glances when he thinks you're not looking. He did that quite often in class. Zoning out while staring at you from his seat behind you. That had caused him a lot of trouble when he didn’t follow along in school.

Raph, known for his tough exterior, would indeed feel a bit nervous around you. He might not show it openly, but his interactions might be marked by a subtle intensity, especially when he's trying to impress you.

While Raph is not one to readily ask for help, he might find excuses to be near you during group activities or projects. He'd prefer action over words, showcasing his skills and strength to get your attention.

Raph might not ask for help directly, but he'd appreciate your mental and physical strengths and secretly observe from a distance, admiring your capabilities.

At the lair, Raph would be more protective than usual. His brothers might notice him being a bit more on edge when it comes to your safety, no matter if it’s physical or emotional. Even just a little comment about you. Donnie and you liked to tease each other, but Raph did not like it at all.

Raph would likely express his crush through actions rather than words. He might offer you his jacket if you seem cold or step in to defend you during one of Donnie or Mikey's teasing episodes.

Raph's brothers would notice his crush through his protective and slightly more attentive behavior. Leonardo might be the first to pick up on it, observing the subtle signs of Raph's softer side.

Mikey would make light-hearted comments, teasing Raph about being a "hopeless romantic," while Donnie might analyze Raph's behavior more critically, telling him to quit being such a brute.

Raph wouldn't openly talk about his feelings, but his brothers would notice the extra effort he puts into being there for you and might offer some brotherly advice.

Donatello:

The tech-savvy Donatello would be the go-to person for any computer or gadget troubles you might have. He'd shyly compliment your intelligence, and you'd catch him staring as he admired your problem-solving skills with every test in front of you.

Donatello might find excuses to be close, offering to be your lab partner or working on a project together. His crush would be evident in the way he stumbles over his words, yet he would just brush it off as being a little cold, pulling his hoodie closer around him.

Donnie would be less nervous than some of his brothers, as his logical and analytical nature helps him keep his emotions in check. However, he might still find himself a bit flustered around you, especially if you catch him off guard.  It had happened that he almost choked on his juice box when you greeted him during lunch.

In class, Donnie would likely be a combination of teasing and helping. He'd use his intelligence to subtly impress you, offering assistance with challenging assignments or explaining complex concepts.

Donnie might playfully challenge you to solve problems or share interesting facts, finding ways to engage your intellect and showcase his own intelligence.

The moment he learned of your shared love for anime, he was close to starting running laps around the school.

When you visited the lair to do homework with him, Donatello would continue his supportive and helpful demeanor. He might offer to assist you with any tech-related issues or share interesting discoveries he made in his little lab.

While not explicitly talking about you, Donnie's brothers might notice the extra effort he puts into making sure you're comfortable and included. Raphael might make sarcastic comments, but Leo and Mikey would likely appreciate Donnie's caring nature.

Donatello's brothers might not notice his crush right away, as he's more subtle in expressing his feelings. However, over time, they'd observe his increased attention to you and the way he seems genuinely invested in your well-being.

Raphael might make snarky remarks, teasing Donnie about his "soft spot," while Mikey would probably cheer on any potential romantic development, saying it was about time at least one of them got a girlfriend.

Leonardo would offer some brotherly advice, encouraging Donnie to be more open about his feelings and not overthink things.

Michelangelo:

The fun-loving and carefree Mikey would probably invite you to pizza parties and movie nights the moment he realized he was developing feelings for you. He'd crack jokes, hoping to see your smile, and would be the first one to suggest a group hangout. Well, it didn't take long for him to ask you to hangout with him one on one either.

Mikey would absolutely try to make you laugh in class. He'd crack jokes, share funny stories, and maybe even doodle silly cartoons on your notebooks when you're not looking. His goal would be to brighten your day and see your smile, and most definitely succeeded at that.

He might even create a silly nickname for you as a sign of affection, and you'd find random doodles in your notebooks of you and him sharing a laugh. That had cost both of you stinging looks from your teacher, whenever the two of you would snicker at your table.

Mikey would be excellent at hiding his nervousness, using his cheerful and carefree persona to mask any anxiety he might feel. He'd make it seem like he's just being his usual goofy self around you.

Coming back home from school, Mikey would be even more energetic than usual, and his brothers would notice the extra pep in his step. He'd be excited to share stories about your day and any funny incidents that happened.

Mikey might not talk extensively about you, but he would highlight how cool and awesome you are. His brothers would catch on, and Raphael might roll his eyes while secretly enjoying Mikey's infectious enthusiasm.

Michelangelo would express his admiration for you by describing your coolest moments. "Dude, you should've seen (Y/N) today! She totally aced that move when she borrowed my skateboard. It was epic!"

He'd also try to include you in their pizza nights and movie marathons, subtly finding ways to spend more time together outside of school. It was becoming more and more common to find you and him in the brothers shared room, watching movies on his or your laptop.

When teased by his brothers about his crush, Mikey would play it off with a laugh, hands behind his head and a happy smile on his face, saying, "What? (Y/N) is just super awesome, bros. Can't help but appreciate that!"

To be honest, Mikey wasn't to scared about you or anybody else figuring out about his crush on you. Of course you made his heart skip a beat whenever you were close, but he did not fear the day you would learn about it. Actually, he looked forward to it.

[kodamaghost00]

30 Lucifer Headcanons

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[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut

It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

Calls his partner “Angel” or “Love”. But will come up with outrageous names to annoy you too.

Makes his loved ones custom ducks. And he gets really nervous showing you the finished product.

“So uhhh… I made this one for you.” He said quite nervously as he gave you your duck. “Oh it’s lovely Lucifer… thank you so much.”.

He looked at you flabbergasted “Wait really?! You like it…?”. You just chuckled “Of course I do!”

You were there for him when Lilith left him. He was so down but you cheered him up.

When Lucifer and Alastor had their little sing session he was so happy that you sided with him and not that red deer guy.

He thinks it’s adorable that you get along with Charlie. He loves the way you care about her, and believe in her dreams.

Besides his “calm” personality he gets quite protective over time. When he notices you get hurt by something/someone he is immediately there you care for you.

He makes unhinged comments and jokes without even noticing that they’re out of place sometimes.

Ever since angel called him a “Short king” the term has stuck with him. He casually calls himself that as well.

He tries to learn more slang from the other residents and tries them out on you… “You serve *snaps fingers*… the outfit slaps ngl.” You just laughed your ass off due to his stiff voice and lack of feeling.

He enjoys basin and cooking a lot. He prefers to have you as a helper.

He’s a ambivert who’s pretty good at masking. Not many people notice when he’s exhausted.

Definitely a hopeless romantic. He WILL take you on a date with roses and jazz in the background. And if everything goes well he maybe even take you to his place?

He likes to get dominated but he also loves to dominate. Whatever you’re up to actually, he’ll just go along with it.

Groans overall but whimpers and whines when he’s close.

When you ride on top of him he digs his fingers into your sides and it gets firmer and stronger as he finishes.

He is definitely very weak in the way that he can’t hold in for long. You do one right move and he’s cumming fast.

He also enjoys bondage very much. He’d fuck you while you hand from the roof with a gag in your mouth. In combo with a blindfold? Seeing you drool? He finishes faster than you can say “Bow chika bow bow.”

GREAT IN AFTERCARE!!! He will spoil you with sweet words and cuddles. “You did so great love… thank you.”

He bathed with his rubber duck. His favorite is probably an apple themed one.

He also wears a little make-up. Like going out without a little eyeliner? Nuh uh.

He made his cane himself. The apple on top is exchangeable with a Rubber duck, skull and a snake. He’s making new ones as well.

He is already autistic coded with a special interest in ducks. But imagine he invented them. Like imagine he said ”Hey God… I have this little idea, do you think you can make it work?”

He gets nervous if you two make eye contact for too long. He’d laugh it off though saying it’s no big deal for him.

So so done with life sometimes he just drinks 3 black coffees in the span of 3 hours.

He easily gets distracted by literally anything and everything. Also procrastinates a lot.

He loves hugs from the back. And hugs in general make him feel so loved by you.

His love languages are Physical Touch and Acts of Service. You making him breakfast and cuddles afterwards? He’s straight up in love.

“You made this all for me love…? Wow that’s so amazing thank you so so much…” he gets stressed easily so seeing how much you care for him makes him tear up.

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MASTERLIST

Thank you all so much for reading my silly headcanons [And also 20 followers]! I wanted to say “Loves Eskimo kisses” but I remembered he doesn’t rlly have a nose (πーπ). But yeah anyways… if you have requests don’t be shy and ask! I’d be happy to work on requests! Have a great day/night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

[speakeasyaoi]

Rocky Rickaby x GN!Reader

> Requested by @d144-catzie | A bit shorter and messier than I'd like it to be, schoolwork got in the way :P

PROMPT: Rocky is in a close friendship with the reader that looks more like a couple at first, and has the beginning buds of a romantic relationship.

Rocky has a tendency to be extremely clingy and attached from the minute he meets you, especially so if he finds himself attracted and crushing on you. He ends up finding every excuse he can to spend some quality time with you, be it skipping out on work at his own expense and following you around at your heels like a stray pup, or dragging you along by your scruff on his chaotic escapades- He's constantly craving your presence, and he'll scrape together any opportunity he can to get it.

Rocky just adores both giving and recieving physical affection, and it's fit to make him burst with excitement nearly every time without fail. He tends to avoid things like chaste kisses and handholding in fear of seeming too forward, but he's more than open to ruffling your hair, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, patting your back or walking by your side with your elbows interlocked. Maybe he sneaks a hand on your waist or your hip as you're walking together, or hugs you for just a little longer than what might be considered platonic, but nothing too drastic. When he hugs you, he totally does the thing where he sways you side to side or lifts you up and spins you around.

He tries to talk you into getting some kind of matching article of clothing with him; matching neckties with your initials on them, matching bracelets he can wear under his sleeve or lapel pins he can wear alongside his Lackadaisy pin, he really isn't picky. Though, doesn't have the money to afford to buy you something of the quality he thinks you deserve, so it's probably going to be handmade. ...Or stolen. One of the two.

It's a fun pastime of his to tell you long, over-exagerrated stories of his life- including anything during his youth, adolescence, his time spent travelling around the states in search of work, and earlier years spent working for Lackadaisy with Zib's band. His storytelling skills are nothing short of grand and over-the-top, and he'd be ecstatic to ramble on to you over a shared platter of pancakes or a brisk walk through St. Louis if you'll let him. Fair warning, you're not going to be able to shut him up.

It's often he'll invite you over to Lackadaisy to watch him play his violin, and if not there, he just takes you to a nice, secluded area where he can show you without interruption. Most of what he plays is upbeat, spritely instrumentals or brief little tunes, but every once in a while he'll work up the confidence to sing you a ballad with vague lyrics that seem to apply to you a bit too well.

Similarly to how he calls Calvin Freckle, Ivy Miss Pepper, and Mitzi Miss M, he can't help but come up with a fun, sweet little nickname to call you, mainly serving to take the place of the more romantic terms of endearment he wishes he could call you without coming on too strong. But for now, what he's chosen works.

There's a 100% chance that Rocky's going to try and sweet-talk his way into staying with you in your home instead of continuing to live in his car. He'll beg and whine and plead and hug you tight once you finally give in, agreeing to crash on the living room couch. Though, if you aren't careful enough, he's probably going to end up sleeping in your bed one way or another. Oh well!

If you're able and willing, Rocky takes to teaching you how to play the violin. In all honesty, he makes a pretty shitty teacher, but he tries his damn hardest to help you with the very basics at the least. He also can't help but use it as an opportunity to be close with you, laying his hands over yours as he guides you into playing the right notes and holding the violin in the right position, peppering words of praise an encouragement all throughout.

Other notes: I struggled to keep this one not overly romantic, but still close and fluffy enough to stick to the prompt, this should be fine. I'm also probably going to keep to a range of 8-15 bulletpoints moving forward to speed up the time it takes to get to each post and keep me from burning myself out lol

[yourlittlebunnyy]

a court of shadows and darkness

masterlist - previous chapter

chapter five

summary: Selaene, Rhysand's sister, Azriel's mate runs away after the High Lord of Spring tries to kill her.

warnings: none

enjoy!!!

"Vane, do you realize that you never told me about Thomas?"

"And you realize you never told me about Azriel?"

The two friends laugh, Selaene speaks first, "You start."

Vanessa becomes more serious before beginning the story, "I miss him so much. We had accepted the bond just a few months ago, and one night we thought we would check to see if we could winnow into animal form, and well, that's how it ended. He was-no, he is the best person I know, Elle. If I ever come back, I won't be upset if he continued to live."

"You mean... You mean when you come back, not if. Right?"

Fae cannot see her friend but imagines the sad smile that would show on her face.

"Sure. Now tell me about Azriel."

Selaene chuckles, though a twinge in her chest makes her sad. Nevertheless, she cannot help but smile.

"He is... perfect. I would have accepted the bond that very night, probably. I would have cooked him his favorite food and then we would have gone to his cabin and started a family. I hope with all my heart that he's moved on, because I know him and I know that when he loves ... he loves with everything he's got, and sometimes he risks destroying himself."

Vanessa does not respond, but the darkness they have learned to live with envelops them like a blanket.

"We used to sing together. He is a Shadowsinger, and I simply like to sing, as you already know. That's how we fell in love; the bond snapped after that."

After a moment's pause, the tiger speaks.

"You know, Elle, I have seen you only a few times and briefly, but for me you're the Moon."

Selaene cannot be seen, but she smiles bitterly, "My mate used to tell me that too."

And that is how they end their talk, silence settles over them, and Selaene's eyes close involuntarily.

She is running across a meadow, the light of a summer day now almost at an end illuminating the field in which she prances, she feels the sun kissing her skin, such inviting warmth. Behind her she hears the laughter of a male, no. Her brother's. Rhysand. It is a memory, she realizes, from when she was a child. She was only a decade old at the time.

"Rhysand!"

"What's the matter? Do I have a bug on me?"

Her brother laughs, but when he sees his little sister's tears, he does not hesitate to run to her and ask her if everything is all right.

"Selae...what's going on? Are you hurt?"

When his sister does not answer him, he becomes seriously worried.

"Rhysand... are you," a sob interrupts her, "really you?"

"Selae, but are you okay? Do you want me to call mom?" Concern is evident in his tone.

The sister watches her hands, as if in disbelief at what she sees. "That's not possible..."

"Wait here, I'll go get her."

"No! Please don't go."

This is her chance, she thinks. If his brother knows she is alive, if he has even the slightest chance, he knows he will look everywhere to find her.

"Rhysand, you need to wake up."

"What are you talking about?"

"Rhysand. Please, you're dreaming."

"Did you hit your head?" Selaene denies with a wave of her head, and then begins to feel her body again. She is running out of time.

"Rhysand, you may not understand now, but when you wake up I want you to remember what I'm about to tell you now. I am not dead. I'm stuck in....."

But the fae cannot finish the sentence: he is already gone and the light is replaced by darkness once again.

Selaene wakes up startled and out of breath. She expects to be on a flowery meadow with the sun warming her muscles and her brother beside her, but she has to come to terms with reality. She had never dreamed before. No, it was not a dream.

It was a memory of an unforgettable day for her, she still remembered that late summer afternoon. Her father had finally given in to the child's pleas and taken her to the Velaris River along with her mother and brother, but he had not stayed with them. He had not allowed Rhys's friends to come, however.

But Selaene had been content and had played among the fields and water as never before. It is one of the best memories she has with her brother.

The dream leaves bitterness on her palate, and she has to swallow a knot in her throat before turning to Vanessa, hoping she is still asleep.

The two of them have this silent agreement: if one is awakened by the other crying, or having a nightmare, they are silent and pretend to be asleep, to leave some private space.

But this time Vanessa is awake, and although she cannot see her, she knows that he is staring at her.

"What is it?" The younger fae asks, her voice stymied.

"You haven't... you've never had a nightmare the almost five centuries. Do you want to talk about it?"

All Selaene is able to see is darkness, but nevertheless she still rolls her eyes. She doesn't want to talk about it. Neither of them has ever wanted to. Why now?

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It might help you..." Vanessa's tone is sweet, and it turns her stomach. She doesn't want her sympathy.

"I don't need someone to feel sorry for me."

The tiger snorts, a sound more animal than human, "I didn't say that. But when I have my nightmares, I'd like to have someone to talk to about them."

"What?"

The tension in the air between the two gets so thick it could be cut with scissors. Vanessa thinks hard about what to say before she speaks again, but nothing good comes to her mind.

"Vanessa. I thought we had a silent agreement."

"And we do. It's just that I've been here almost six fucking centuries. I just wish someone would tell me we're going to get out of this and it's going to be okay, but instead I'm always the one who has to comfort." The words entered from Fae's ears and went straight to her heart, breaking it even more than it already was. She wanted to get angry, to scream at them to get over it, to leave her alone. But somehow those words hurt her more than they should have, hit her right in the center.

She had never realized-she had never thought that her sister, while showing herself strong and hopeful, was suffering as much as she was, for even longer than her. She never said anything comforting to her, nothing sweet, never listened to her vent, or never consoled her. At this point she doesn't know if she can call herself her sister, her friend.

"Vane..." A sob comes out of the depths of her throat, sudden and violent, and tears away the one small healthy part of her, the only unbroken part of her.

"You leave me alone now. I don't want you to comfort me just because I told you to. I would have liked you to do it spontaneously. Sister to sister."

Selaene hesitates to respond, the crying still unabated, and the worst thing-the thing that keeps her from stopping-is that Vanessa does not approach her, does not give her warmth with her fur or try to comfort her. She ignores her. And somehow it is even worse. Somehow, these four and a half centuries she has been locked up in the UnderWorld are all being felt now, creating an excruciating pain in her chest, at the level of her heart. Her friend probably feels the same way, but in contrast to her, she has never had anyone to encourage her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Vanessa. I'm so sorry..."

And she would like to say more, she would have liked it so much. She wished she could have told her that if there was anyone in that place who deserved to go back to the top, then it was Vanessa. That she deserved it more than anyone. That if it wasn't for her, she would have gone crazy. That even if Selaene was not, the tiger for her was the best sister she could ever ask for. That if they had found a passage, Selaene would have sent her first, would have given her that opportunity because it was hers to take.

Instead, tearing those words from her throat, for the first time in nearly five hundred years,is a passerby passing so close to the violet-eyed fae that she loses her balance. And so, just as in only a moment she ended up down here, in only a moment she is also back up. Without Vanessa.

Rhysand wakes suddenly, his eyes wide open and out of breath. He does not want to wake Feyre, who lying beside him seems so peaceful now that she has finally managed to sleep a full night without being woken by Nyx.

He sits on the edge of the bed and sighs exhaustedly. With one hand he strokes his face as if to ascertain that he is real, that he is not dreaming.

He thinks back to the dream. Or what he thinks is a dream.

He never dreamed of his sister. He lets out a snort before getting up and heading to his study. When he gets there, he takes care to lock the room before throwing himself down in his chair with a thud, dead weight.

Why after all these years? Why did his mind have to play such tricks on him?

In the dream she ... was a child, but she spoke as if she were alive, not as in the memory of that beautiful afternoon at the river. As if the memory was just a way of communicating, a conduit.

Rhysand tries to calm his breaths. He has come a long way in accepting the death of his loved ones. In forgiving himself for not being there to protect them. His breaths become labored as he feels that wound in his heart slowly reopen as he replays the dream in his head.

It was so strange, so destabilizing. Selaene begged him to wake up, as if she was alive and knew he was dreaming the same thing. For a moment, a thought flashed through his mind, but he did not allow it to stay, or to think about it. Too many years have passed. She cannot be alive. Azriel himself has heard her die.

A soft knock distracts him from his thoughts. With a sigh he rises from his chair, and he does not like the heavy feeling invading his body.

He opens the door and finds himself facing his mate.

"Rhys... is everything all right, honey?"

Rhysand does not answer her, but throws himself into her arms, leaving her a little surprised.

"I miss her so much, Feyre." He finds himself saying through tears, his face buried in her hair.

Feyre does not respond, but stands there with him on the doorframe and supports him, holds him up and offers him a shoulder to cry on.

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