#maybe ill add more on ao3

[sea-owl]

Been having polleen omegaverse thoughts again.

So let's say the family is enjoying the off-season in Aubrey Hall, and the newly presented omega Penelope has joined them.

Colleen goes into rut sometime they are out there, and she has been hidden away in one of the rooms that is reserved for heats and ruts. There, she can spend a week taking care of her rut and then rejoin the pack once it breaks. Only after a week her rut isn't breaking, and with each passing day, Colleen grows more agitated and desperately wants a release. She has no idea why this rut refuses to break.

Violet is getting worried that her daughter is still in rut. Anthony has called on a doctor who says that it's odd that Colleen's body is doing this.

"Normally, I only see this when an alpha is trying to attract their mate or they've been away from their mate too long. Has Ms. Bridgerton found her mate yet?" The doctor asks.

"No, the only ones here are pack."

For a rut or heat, members of the pack would bring their pack mate food and drink as that was the safest way.

So Penelope was a little confused as to why Eloise was asking her to bring Colleen her food when it was Eloise's turn to do so.

"Colleen's smell worsens when she's in rut," Eloise said with her nose wrinkled. "The stench is truly awful."

That surprised Penelope. She actually quite liked Colleen's ocean and citrus scent. But she supposed an alphas scent could be off during an intense time. Her family was all betas and omegas, so she really didn't have anything to compare it to.

"And Benedict promised me to go to the village today," Eloise added on.

Penelope bit her lip. "But I'm not a pack member, couldn't that upset Colleen?"

Eloise waved her hand. "Everyone here considers you pack Pen. It will be fine. All you have to do is go in, set the food down, and walk out. Plus, if you do it, I'll get you that new book you've been wanting."

Damn, Eloise knew her too well. She knew Penelope has been eyeing that book for a while now. "The book and candies."

Eloise dropped the key to Colleen's room in Penelope's hand. "Deal."

"Oh and remember to lock the door behind you when you go inside. We don't need Colleen escaping!"

Thankfully, Colleen was asleep when Penelope snuck into the room. Keeping her footsteps light as possible, Penelope made her way over to the bedside table.

The omega began to wonder if Colleen's rut was finally starting to break. It didn't smell as bad, as Eloise had described. It was intense, and the smell of ocean and citrus engulfed you as you entered the room, but Penelope found herself enjoying it. If she could, she would have the smell made into perfume. Though it was rather warm in here.

"Omega . . .Pen."

A hand latched itself onto Penelope's wrist, dragging the omega onto the bed. The key she held clattered to the floor.

Penelope squeaked as she came face to face with a half-naked Colleen Bridgerton. Colleen's long chestnut hair fell freely, her skin flushed, and her green eyes were half closed. One hand still held Penelope's wrist while the other pulled Penelope onto Colleen's blanket covered lap. The hand that held Penelope's wrist brought it up to Colleen's face where she began to scent the omega.

"You smell so good, Pen," Colleen moaned out. "Like a dream. Smell so good I could eat you."

Penelope's face burns a brighter red with each passing word. She could feel her body becoming hotter as well. She always thought the female alpha to be beautiful and maybe she has been a little in love with her ever since they met. "C-C-Co-"

Colleen pulled Penelope closer, burying her face into Penelope's neck. "That's Colleen, my omega."

Penelope could feel her omega purr, slick starting to coat her thighs. Oh, that was not good.

Colleen must've smelt it as well because she took a deep breath before letting out another moan. "Pen, please help me. Stay. My alpha needs you, I need you."

The alpha pulled back, her green eyes stating into Penelope's brown ones. Penelope could feel Colleen tracing her fastenings.

Penelope shook her head. "Colleen you're in rut. You-"

Colleen cut Penelope off with a loud whine. "My head is clearer with you here. Please, Pen, stay."

Penelope knew she should leave, but if it helped Colleen break her rut, shouldn't she do what she could to help?

Colleen bent forward to kiss Penelope. "Stay."

Penelope nodded. "I'll stay."

Colleen let out a happy cheer. Quick to undo the dress fastenings Colleen laid Penelope underneath her. Colleen taking her new favorite spot in between Penelope's legs.

[thatsnotmygunflash]

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

Not tagged and not going to tag, just saw it and thought it would be fun. I am going to do my WIPs to give you guys some teasers of what's cooking. If you like any of them let me know and maybe I'll pour some love into them.

1. A Brighter Future

"Why don’t you like them?”

“How could you be so careless Barry? How could you get into bed with a criminal? A murderer? I raised you better than this! No son of mine would ever stoop this low-” Barry shut his eyes tight to try and push away the illusion Sophia was conjuring from his emotions, tears starting to fall from his eyes when Iris’ heartbroken voice joined in with Joe’s disgusted one.

“He’s dead because of you! It should have been you! I lost the man I was going to marry for a future I don’t even want! I wish I’d never met you Barry Allen!”

“Soph-Soph, please stop.”

2. Cause Maybe You're That Thing I Need To Save Me

"Cisco and Lisa-they're engaged now and they were going through a bunch of the Rouge's abandoned safehouse and Cisco-he found an old sweater of yours and he vibed you. He said you were alive but we weren't sure so we uh-went looking. It took a few months but we finally got a lead and I sped here as quickly as I could to see if it was really true and it is! You're alive! The Legends are going to be so exciting to know you survived! Wait, how did you survive?"

"You can't tell anyone I'm alive Barry, you weren't meant to know I was alive. No one is supposed to know."

"But why? Are you retired now or something?"

"I am actually, so having trouble magnets like yourself show up on my doorstep isn't exactly my idea of a good time. You need to leave and tell your friends at STAR Labs that this was a dead end. No one can know I'm alive, and I'm not above killing you to keep it that way."

3. For Better Or For Worse

“Look,” Laurel sighed heavily, lacing her fingers together over the table as she met Len’s cold stare head on. “I don’t know all the details-yet-but your husband is a very resourceful and connected man, whether he realizes it fully or not. He said part of your vows was to get Mick Rory and you out of here. That’s what I’m here to do, if you want the specifics to how exactly we’re going to pull it off I suggest you ask the mastermind behind all of this craziness.”

“If you think it’s so crazy, why help?”

“Because people's lives are at risk and Barry’s not wrong, if anyone can pull something like this off it’s you and him. Quiet the power couple you two are, honestly. Besides, I’ve never met a person who could say no to that boy’s sweet face. Isn’t that why you agreed?”

4. Got A Lot Of Sins, But You're My Favorite

"So," Angie spoke up from behind the register, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand as she smirked wickedly at Len. "When were you going to tell me you had a crush on the Flash?"

"I don't. I just threatened to kill him-he stole my gun!"

"Yes, and he also looked like he wanted to kiss you senseless while you were pointing said gun in his pretty face."

5. I'd Cross Galaxies To Find You

Waking up next to a crying baby and someone sleeply pushing at his bare shoulder had Barry freezing in terror, not wanting to know how he would die next in this world.

“Baby, baby-go get Nora,”

“Nora?”

“Our daughter, Nora, you know the one you begged my sister to carry for us, the daughter who won’t sleep through the night because she isn’t being rocked at superspeed because her father spoils her rotten. Ring any bells?”

6. It's The Second Glances That Ties Your Hands

"What are you doing here, Len?"

"Well, let's just say my lady and your lord don't really get on–she's cleaning house now that she's free of the Time Masters. Speedsters mucking up the timeline were at the top of her priority list."

"You're here for me?"

7. Love Me Silently

"So help me-you are not proposing to me right now Barry Allen-so think before those next words come out of your mouth."

"See! You want the big grand gesture and a huge wedding to show me off! You want to marry me! He said you'd say no, he said you weren't the type-"

"He's a worried father, Scarlet, I'm not surprised.” Len muttered as he pulled the younger man into his arms, one hand rubbing soothingly over his back while the other cupped his neck lovingly. “Look, I don't want to be the reason you never talk to your foster father again-"

8. You Need To Allow Me To Help

“Did you hear that, Cisco? That dying whale noise? I think it was the last shred of my dignity being forcibly removed from my body, so if you’ll excuse me I’m just going to go drown myself in the boy’s bathrooms—” Barry muttered in panicked embarrassment, rushing off down the hall almost too quickly to see, ignoring his friends calling his name to get him to stop.

“Go after him, you idiot,” Mick huffed, pushing Len forcefully in the direction Barry had disappeared.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Len answered slowly, his jaw set in a tense line and his eyes hardening over with realization.

9. You Got This Heaven In Your Eyes

'Keep up the exceptional work, Barry Allen, Central City is lucky to have you on their side. -L.S.'

"What's it say?" Eddie questioned, trying to peek over Barry's shoulder to get a look at the snow-white card, his eyes widening comically when he caught sight of the message.

"Uh-to keep up the good work," Barry muttered in confusion, his eyes drifting from the elegant handwriting to the memorising bouquet, not knowing what to think.

"You ruined the guy's fifteen year long not guilty streak and he tells you to keep up the good work?"

"This is weird, right?"

"Very."

10. Side Effects May Include

“It’s complicated, okay! I don’t know how it works. I just know when I’m not here-near you-it's like there's this overwhelming need to run as fast as I can to this-this pull. It never stops, not unless I wake up with you, when I’m near you-it’s like everything freezes.” Barry takes one look at Len’s face and lets out a drawn-out whine.

“Shut up okay, I know you want to make a joke-but it does! It’s like for the first time since I got my powers I can just stand still or sleep since that’s never exactly come easy for me-”

“Do you have a point Barry?”

“The point is for whatever reason my subconscious is latching onto you. Whenever I’m awake I feel this pull like I’m meant to be running somewhere, but I haven’t had the time to really figure out what it means when I’ve been running around stopping bombs and searching for evidence to get my dad out of jail while also trying and failing to stop the man who really killed my mother! I’ve been dealing with a lot lately okay-I barely sleep more than a few hours a week if I even manage that-and every time I do fall asleep I wake up next to you! I’m having these bizarre dreams you keep popping up in and all I want is to sleep for more than an hour at a time!”

[badtimeswithart]

hii i wrote a oneshot

This is the first time i've written in forever, so feedback is def appreciated!

Words: 1,456 Chapter: 1/1 Pairings: Goodtimewithscar/Grian, Goodtimeswithscar&Grian Characters: Scar, Grian Fandom: Life series (Secret Life)

(hi idk what im doing hope this i what i need to put!)

[alton26916]

Why did things have to turn out this way?

Summery: This is basically the ending part of the battle with Garmantuous where Kenny does his thing.

Everyone held their breath. A couple moments pass, and nothing happens. The bomb failed.

Everyone starts to panic. Garmantuous could wake up at any moment, and there was a big chance they wouldn't be able to beat him again, Even if they did the bomb doesn't work. 

Gus is the first to speak. "What now? The bomb didn't work. " He says loudly, his eyes darting everywhere.  "Yeah, what's the plan here? Keep shooting and hoping for a miracle? Sweezy asks, alarm hidden in her voice behind the snark.

Everyone starts racking their brains for a solution.  Kenny looks around at everyone. Hesitantly he comes up with a response.  " I have an idea." Everyone lights up. "Oh, Fantastic!" Creature responds with relief.  "I knew you'd figure it out Kenny"

 Kenny falters a bit at that as he continues. "The bomb might still be functional. I know a way to detonate it." He sighs, gathering whatever courage he has for his next sentence. "I'll go inside his asshole and detonate it..manually"

There's silence, and the bounty hunter holds him close. "Oh. That's...not good." Creature says timidly. Gus looks at Kenny horrified. "Kenny. That would mean..."  “Yeah, I know" The gatlian answers miserably.

Everyone starts to protest. "Kenny" Sweezy says seriously. "We're not letting you do that, ok? There's got to be another way." Kenny looks at her, dead in the eye. "Can you think of anything?" She glances down. "Well, not right now. Is this really the only way?" There’s silence again. "Kenny, there's a big chance you're not going to make it out alive" Gus says gravely. Kenny sighs. "I know" 

He turns his attention towards his partner.  He doesn't dare to look at their eyes, knowing full well he might break down at the look in their face. "Hey bounty hunter" He inhales, trying to continue. "Fighting alongside you has been, well it's been the best thing that's ever happened to me. Thank you for giving me the adventure of a lifetime." He gasps, tears slipping out. He pushes his head on his partner's chest, trying to get as much physical contact as he can, while there's still time.

His partner hugs him back tightly. After a few moments, he gives a wet sigh and leans away. "Now shove me deep inside that monster slug's dirty asshole." He says. A couple seconds pass. "Bounty hunter?" Kenny asks tiredly. "I need to--" 

A sob racks out. Everyone turns towards the bounty hunter, their eyes widening. It's a bit hard to see through the tint the tinted glass covering their face, but you can still see them. They're sobbing, have been for a while it seems, and it doesn’t look like they’ll stop anytime soon. 

Kenny starts crying too, finally looking up at their face. "Bounty hunter, don't cry. This needs to be done. I need to do this. We'll finally be able to defeat the G3 like we've planned. Everything will be worth it after this." They start sobbing even more. Kenny looks at them sorrowfully. He doesn't want them to cry, but they need to do this before Garmantuous wakes up. "Bounty hunter I--" 

"I don't want you to die." A wailing, broken voice whispers. It stuns Kenny and everyone else. No one in the gang, but Lizzie has heard them say anything, not even Kenny who's their favorite. The bounty hunter always used gestures, or the suit’s hologramed keyboard to say things.  

"Kenny.." They wail out, holding him tightly to the point it almost hurts.

Tears run down his face harder than they have in a long time. This was his partner, his best friend, the person who he could always count on. They've never been apart since the day they found him. Even when he’s told them everything, and everyone was against him, they never left him. They were always there for him. They would be overwhelmingly stoic at times, and yet so affectionate to him.

He should have known that they would take this badly knowing this.

He looks around, and everyone seems heartbroken. Probably feeling a lot worse now that they've seen how badly it's affected them. He peers at his partner again. He blinks quickly to fight the tears away. "Bounty hunter." They look at him, tearfully. "I need you to calm down." They laugh indignantly, as they try to control themselves. Kenny hesitates for a bit, looking around everywhere then at them again. "I know this is hard but we need to do this now. Garmantuous can wake up at any moment now, and I don't think any of us can survive another round with him, despite his injuries." He verbally points at everyone's own injuries

He sees them close their eyes in defeat. "We can do this." Kenny says again firmly. After a pause they slowly look at him again. Their gaze is filled with heartbreak, and an intensity he can’t place. 

They slowly move, and take off their helmet. Kenny studies them one last time, trying to take everything in. They try not to cry, and fail as they position themselves next to Garmantuous. Kenny sniffs and then says his goodbyes to the rest of the Gatlians. He turns to the bounty hunter.

"Ok, ok, I guess this is goodbye." He says, sadly.. "You're the best bounty hunter I've ever met, and you're an even better friend. See ya pal." 

Carefully they move Kenny right in front of them, and give him a single kiss on his head, between his antennas. He wheezes slightly, staring in surprise. They give a watery smile, before hugging him tightly. He breathes in, leaning against them one last time. They finally back up. 

 "Don't forget, I'll always be here with you. I love you.” Bounty hunter speaks again softly, so only Kenny can hear. "I love you too." He smiles at them as they shove him inside the hole.

They quickly move back, putting their helmet on again. Just as they get far enough,  Garmantuous explodes. The bounty hunter weeps as they look around to see if there was any chance of Kenny coming out alive. Everyone keeps quiet, not wanting to say anything that might provoke them.

…

They head home with a dead body. 

[jonny-b-meowborn]

Just letting you know that technically I think I finished my therian fic, now I'm just going through it, fixing mistakes and all that, but like. It's done

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

Phoenix's MHA fics:

Kiribaku:

The Way We Love (one shot)

So Good it Hurts (11 chapters, complete)

Poprocks Vignettes (family au)

Dabihawks:

These Violent Delights (5 chapters, complete)

With a Kiss, Consume (6 chapters, complete, sequel to TVD^)

Take Me Somewhere New (one shot)

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Are You There, Wolf? (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Synopsis: Minho had always deemed himself a bit of a weirdo. In his humble opinion, he’d only become even weirder with time, especially after he acquired his supernatural… condition. He’d never cared much about it, not when you’d always been there for him, and hopefully you would always be. [This is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. You don’t particularly need to read the other instalments related to Minho to understand this, but it’ll add more depth to the story if you do, so I highly recommend it~]. Warnings: Minho’s POV · mentions of shooting guns [it’s an off-handed comment made by Minho, nothing serious, but figured i’d put a warning] · mentions of gambling · mentions of cheating [but no one cheated] · mentions of blood, injuries, and violence · near death experiences · Minho was dumb and in denial for a long while · mentions and depictions of monster fucking shenanigans · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: this originally started as a smutty drabble inspired by an ask from an anon… somehow it grew hands and beat me up and made me black out and now we’ve got a full instalment. a chunk of it is just stuff that happened in other instalments, but with Minho’s input. hope you enjoy ! special thanks to @notastraykid for reading this and letting me know it wasn’t the worst piece of literature she’s ever read.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Minho's previous WereRoomies instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

Smut Warnings: mentions of oral · somnophilia [all acts related to it are consensual] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · creampie

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Minho always believed himself to be a rational man. He was also an animal, yes. But his animal instincts were, essentially, stunted. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was born human and turned into a werewolf when he was very young, or if there was something wrong with him in general–he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.

Jisung–who’d been the first other werewolf Minho ever befriended–believed it to be the first option. He had encouraged Minho to go to a specialist and ask, but Minho never really paid much attention to it.

He figured that, as long as he didn’t feel ill or that he didn’t hurt anyone around him, it didn’t really matter.

However, just how many psychologists and therapists by trade seemed to choose that career path in order to understand their own brains and behaviours, sometimes he wondered if his own inability to understand his animal needs was what fully drove him into becoming a vet.

Sure, he had always cared for animal’s safety, he always knew one too many facts about many different critters, and with all the injured animals that seemed to come his way when he was a kid, he had spent more time at the vet’s office than he did in his own home. He supposed all things combined played a role in his career choice, and that had certainly helped him understand himself a little better… kind of.

Minho was a simple man. A man that, in a sick twist of fate, ended up becoming the dictionary definition of a monster.

He’d admit that for a long time, he blamed himself for what had happened to him. ‘Maybe if I hadn’t taken that detour through the woods that time I wouldn’t have been turned’, ‘Maybe if I had been paying attention to my surroundings I wouldn’t have been bit’, ‘Maybe I did something horrible in a past life or this one to warrant such an event’, he’d always think about these things whenever the pains and aches caused by his condition were a bit too strong to bear.

It took him an even longer time to accept the fact that it hadn’t been his fault at all. Nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the situation. He would’ve never been able to predict that a giant wolf would come out of nowhere and bite him completely unprompted. 

To this day, over ten years later, Minho still couldn’t remember what the wolf looked like.

It all happened so fast… All he could remember was the fuzzy canine shape, the sound of growls and snarls and of his own bones cracking inside his body, along with the searing pain that spread from the gash that the creature had left on his side.

He couldn’t remember the bleeding, or the amount of time he spent laying on the forest ground, or even the moment he was eventually found. One second he was in an immense amount of pain, and the next he was completely fine, as if nothing had happened, laying on a hospital bed with his best friend hugging him and sobbing against his chest.

Minho could’ve never imagined that that event in the woods would change the way he interacted with the world forever.

One seemingly normal evening after what he thought had been ‘an accident’, while he was hanging out in his best friend’s home, doing their weekly watch of Kamen Rider, it was like something suddenly started rattling inside of him. Like an itch one can’t seem to scratch satisfactorily.

He couldn’t breathe, his joints hurt, all his muscles seemed to burn, and before he knew it, he was feeling parts of his body he had never felt before. His vision felt different, his sense of smell was overwhelmed, and although his surroundings were familiar, it was almost like he was seeing them from someone else’s perspective.

Needless to say, he was having a full on meltdown right then and there. Especially when he caught what he thought would be a glimpse of himself on a reflective surface, and what he saw instead was a dog… Well, more accurately, a wolf.

To this day, he was very grateful that it all happened while you, his best friend, were there with him. Minho honestly wasn’t sure how he would’ve reacted had he been on his own. He could still remember the panic he felt, how much he was crying, how much you were crying. Things would’ve probably been very different if you hadn’t hugged him tight and reassured him time and time again that you’d be there for him… That you wanted to figure this out together.

When he had finally understood what had happened to him in the woods, and after many trips to the local library to do some digging on the internet, you both came to the conclusion that the most logical explanation to his newfound condition was that he was now afflicted with lycanthropy… And it wasn’t the psychological kind.

Which was crazy. 

Completely absurd.

But what seemed to be sourced in fantasy and myths was literally the only thing that matched his symptoms perfectly.

Everything was confusing for a long time after that. Everything was too loud, too bright, too intense… His already sensitive senses seemed to be overstimulated all day, every day–even worse than before–and he could hardly cope.

He could hear conversations that were happening metres away from him, he could hear people’s breathing and their heartbeats and sometimes other internal organs as well… It was honestly driving him a little bit insane.

Minho realised very quickly that having a supernaturally enhanced sense of smell when he was starting high school was quite possibly one of the worst things to ever happen to him. Having been turned into a werewolf was hard enough on its own, now he had to deal with teenagers that seemed to hold a grudge against soap.

When it all got too overwhelming, he simply got close to you. As close as he could. He was sure he had memorised the rhythm of your heartbeat at this point, and the constant, familiar sound always seemed to help ease his sour mood.

‘Have you gotten a new perfume? Or a new fabric softener?’ He couldn’t help but ask one day. He’d noticed recently that there seemed to be a scent of lavender lingering around him whenever you were close. He didn’t mind. In fact, it actually comforted him quite a bit.

‘You know I don’t use fabric softener, dummy. And no, I haven’t gotten a new perfume’, your answer puzzled him a bit, but it wasn’t until a handful of months later, when he finally met Jisung, that he understood what that lavender scent was.

When Minho first met Jisung, he was honestly a bit surprised. Mostly because the second Jisung was within his radius, it was almost like he could tell the younger boy was a werewolf, too. There was something about the smell of roses and cotton radiating from Jisung that just gave it away, although Minho didn’t know how, or why.

Jisung quickly became an integral part of his friend group–although, to be fair,  ‘group’ was a big word to use, considering you were the only real friend Minho had, and the one he consistently hung out with. What used to be a simple pair of weirdos became a trio of weirdos, and Minho was genuinely happy about that.

He immediately felt like he could trust Jisung, and in the long run, Minho was grateful for his presence. Not only because Jisung was funny and eloquent and he also enjoyed watching niche TV shows, but also because Jisung helped him understand this unexplored side of him.

‘You’re an alpha, clearly’, Jisung told Minho once. As if that meant something important. ‘Your scent is kind of… Like, you smell of vanilla and a recently lit bonfire. Somehow very alpha-like, but milder than what I’m used to, I suppose…’

Jisung explained to him all these werewolf designations of alphas, betas, and omegas that were based on a werewolf’s inherent nature… He explained what scents were, how to tell what status a wolf had based on their scent, and when he confirmed that humans did, in fact, also have a scent, Minho just knew then that that lavender scent he always smelt when you were close was simply your natural scent. Just like cotton and roses was Jisung’s.

Meeting Jisung–aside from meeting you–was possibly one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to Minho. Not only did Jisung become one of his best friends in this whole wide world, not only did he help Minho understand his newfound nature, but also, thanks to him, Minho was finally able to find a family of his own.

Being honest, in his hometown, Minho didn’t have anyone but you. His mother barely even gave him the time of day–mostly because she was busy working two or three jobs to support them both.

When his now step-dad came into the picture, money was no longer a problem, but by that point Minho had already been turned, and that, coupled with the fact that his step-dad wasn’t really that good of a man, was enough for him to distance himself from his relatives.

Minho also had Jisung for a while, but he eventually left town because his entire pack was moving out. That was fine, he was sure they would meet again eventually. Besides, technology around that time made it so it was hardly possible to not be in contact with someone.

After high school, when Minho finally decided to pursue higher education–to pursue his dream of becoming a vet–the university he wanted to study in was, coincidentally, in the same area where Jisung was living then. And not only was Jisung living there, he was in a pack. A different one from his childhood one.

Back in the early stages of his friendship with Jisung, he had explained to Minho that werewolves usually lived in packs, just like regular wolves did. Jisung’s childhood pack didn’t treat omegas that well, from what Minho could recall. So, being an omega himself, Jisung always felt like a bit of an outcast. The fact that he had found a pack where he was actually comfortable was a big deal, and Minho was genuinely happy for his friend.

Even though the pack was essentially only three young wolves, Jisung always spoke highly of his two other packmates. ‘Chris and Changbin are amazing people, dude. Never met wolves like them aside from, like… you. I think you’d be a great addition to our pack, and Chris agrees! Come meet them, you won’t regret it’.

And he didn’t regret it. Not one bit. If anything, joining Chris’ pack, becoming close to him and Changbin to help them lead it, was the third best thing that could’ve ever happened to Minho.

‘Changbin’s my right hand. Although it doesn’t make much sense to have a second in command when we’re, like, three dudes only, I feel like at any point more people could join us, so I like to be prepared’, Chris, the leader–the alpha–of that pack of Jisung’s wasn’t that much older than Minho, but there was something about him that exuded leadership and comfort. It was so obvious even someone like Minho, who wasn’t that in touch with his wolf instincts, was able to tell this man was a real alpha. 

‘It’s very customary for the alpha of the pack to have at least two other people next to them to deal with all possible pack matters, and Jisung believes you might be suitable for that. He said, and I quote, that you have a heart of gold. He vouches for you, and I trust him, so if you want to join and help me out, you’re more than welcome to. Hell, you’re welcome even if you don’t want to help me lead specifically, but it’s important you know that as a pack, we must always look out for each other’, Chris’ proposal was straight forward. No matter what role Minho would fill in, he was welcome to join them.

Being honest with himself, Minho wasn’t really that much of a leader–not in his opinion, at least–but the prospect of joining a pack seemed to tickle something on the back of his mind. He supposed it was one of those instinctual things he didn’t understand well, but, in a way, Chris made him feel reassured, so he told him he’d be happy to join and help him out however he could. With one condition, though.

‘You see, I’ve got my best friend… Not sure if Jisung has told you about her. She’s human, and she’s very important to me. If joining your pack of werewolves means I can’t see her anymore then I’m not doing it’, Minho loved Jisung, and he had a good impression of Chris and Changbin, but, truly, if joining them meant he had to leave you behind, he’d much rather stay on his own.

He knew from Jisung that the moment you moved into a werewolf den, a lot of decisions had to involve the alpha’s approval, and considering you were human, Minho had a genuine fear of Chris telling him that humans simply weren’t allowed. He’d honestly much rather shoot himself in the leg than have to cut ties with you. You’d been the only constant in his life, and losing you was something he just couldn’t afford. You meant too much to him. Maybe more than he would’ve liked to admit back then.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t seem to have major issues with that. If anything, all he did was ask to meet you before you could stay at his den, and as long as you were someone that could be trusted, he wouldn’t have any problems with your presence at the den. That was fine, there was no doubt in Minho’s mind that Chris would like you and see just how nice you were.

He had obviously been right. Your first time meeting Chris couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Not even fifteen minutes passed and he was already dragging Minho to the side and telling him it was all good. 

‘I think she’s nice. It’s fine by me if your kitten drops by or stays over whenever you guys want’, Chris had patted him on the back, with a teasing grin on his face, taking special care to stress the word kitten–which was a nickname Minho had given you randomly one day years ago while trying to cheer you up.

Giving you that nickname had been a moment of weakness, a moment in which he also had been sad and his inhibitions had lowered a bit. The pet name just fell out of his mouth, it had practically been a perfect textbook definition of a Freudian slip, considering Minho had, quite stupidly, developed a crush on you by then.

Chris was a good person, but he also seemed to enjoy teasing Minho whenever his more than obvious crush presented itself, even when Minho himself was in denial about it.

Minho was convinced you didn’t feel anything other than platonic love towards him, so he always tried to delude himself into thinking he absolutely didn’t have a crush on you. You were his best friend, one of the most important people in his life, and he would never risk losing you over what he believed to be unrequited feelings.

Sometimes, though, it was almost impossible not to think about you in ways that would definitely be considered inappropriate. It was easy in his day to day life, but, twice a year, he had to face the fact that his feelings for you went beyond your friendship…

Minho was well aware that he was a weird guy. Throughout his life, he had only ever cared about animals, Kamen Rider, and you and Jisung. He could hardly hold a normal, civil conversation if it didn’t involve any of those things, he said things and had odd habits that could potentially put off people around him, and that was only on his human side. His wolf side was a whole other can of worms.

He already had a hard time understanding his basic human needs, and that seemed to triple when it came to his animal needs. For a long time he couldn’t tell when he needed to go on a run, or when he was in a bad mood because of a weird scent around him, and no need to even get started on whatever the hell was happening with his ruts…

Figuring out that he now had to go through days of unbearable horniness was by far one of the weirdest experiences Minho ever had to deal with during this whole ‘being turned into a half animal’ thing. After he reached sexual maturity, twice a year, he had a time period of around four to five days when every single one of his instincts and senses pulled him into a trance-like state in which all he wanted to do was fuck.

But not only did he want to fuck… He specifically wanted to breed someone. And even more specifically, he wanted to breed you.

It was awful. The whole ordeal was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausting.

The first time he went into rut, he was sure the pain he was feeling came close to the one he briefly felt back when he had been bit and turned. His body was increasingly warm, he was sweating buckets, his cock was hard for an almost criminal amount of time, and nothing he did made it better. 

Even if he managed to make himself come, it barely helped him feel relieved. If anything, it got him more frustrated, to the point where he would start breaking things around him–both intentionally and unintentionally.

The worst part of going into rut, though, was the thoughts he had throughout those days. He could only think of you. Of kissing you, of tasting those utmost sensitive areas of your body, of bending you over and ramming himself into you until he got tied to you and got to fill you to the brim with his cum…

Logic was something that didn’t exist for him in this time period, so those thoughts ran freely in his mind for the duration of his rut… thoughts that he had to come face to face once his rut subsided and he could think like a human again instead of a horny dog.

Needless to say, Minho couldn’t look at your face for a whole month after he went through his first rut. He was haunted by the images his imagination had produced at the time, and he was convinced you didn’t deserve that, that he had somehow broken your trust. It was something he never spoke about with anyone. Not even Jisung. He made a vow to keep this a secret in order to protect your friendship.

Little did Minho know that his friendship with you didn’t need to be protected from anything…

Many years after his first rut, sharing a bed with you during one fateful trip to the woods with the whole pack, was all it took for the line of your friendship to blur completely. Minho had been in denial about his feelings for so long, he had been completely blind to your feelings.

That night, with his senses enhanced by the moon, with his animal instincts bubbling to the forefront of his human mind, that need for you seemed to be impossible to ignore. While he laid with you on that bed, under the covers, being your big spoon, he couldn’t help but get lost in how fast your heart was beating the tighter he hugged you, he was drowning in your lavender scent, and he genuinely didn’t want to be rescued.

You staring at his mouth for a moment too long while he hovered over you had suddenly ignited a spark of hope deep within him. That, added to your increased heart rate, and what he couldn’t mistake for anything other than arousal lingering in your scent, was quickly making him delirious.

‘Kitten… Why are you… Why are you looking at my mouth?’

‘Just thinking…’

‘About?’

‘Things I should not be thinking about’. 

After the words came out of your mouth, and with all the sensory inputs around him, Minho suddenly felt so incredibly stupid.

How had he never noticed that your body seemed to react to him in the same ways his did to you? How long had it been doing that? He had been blindsided by his own desperate attempts to not drive you away from him with his feelings, he had never noticed you looking at him in the same way he looked at you.

He wasn’t sure if it had been the moon reinforcing his stunted instincts just enough to enhance his questionable sense of awareness, but as he looked at you, as he saw just how blown your pupils were, as he watched you stare at his mouth, all caution flew out the window. For once, he decided to take a chance, and the moment his lips made contact with yours, the moment the tiniest of moans left your mouth with the contact, he just knew he had made the right choice.

Kissing you, after so many years of trying not to think of what it would feel like, was even better than he could’ve ever imagined. Minho was ravenous, desperate to feel as much of you as he possibly could, and you, very clearly, were in a similar state.

You both agreed–while still kissing, if he might add–that you needed to discuss the situation, but, admittedly, neither of you wanted to stop. So you didn’t, but only after reaching a compromise to talk about it later.

Minho honestly couldn’t even tell how many times you both had sex that night. It seemed like he’d entered a time pocket in which the only thing that mattered was indulging in each other’s body as many times as you possibly could.

By the time you were both thoroughly satisfied, he simply hugged you close under the covers, relishing the feel of your bare skin against his, relishing the feel of your head on his chest and his arms around your frame. Hugging you to sleep, especially this intimately, was everything he could’ve ever hoped for.

It wasn’t like he’d never hugged you to sleep. He’d shared a bed with you many times in the past, but doing it after having your lips on his, after knowing how it felt like to be inside you, and the mere idea that you reciprocated his feelings, was enough to make him fall asleep smiling to himself like a fool.

Even the next morning, when Minho woke up, still very much naked, when he turned around to find you already awake and looking at him, he couldn’t help but smile like a fool once again. Especially not when you were smiling so bright yourself.

“Morning”, you mumbled, immediately shuffling closer so you could tuck your head under his chin and hug his waist.

“Morning, kitten”, Minho pressed a kiss to the top of your head and hugged you even closer, slotting one of his legs between yours to further tangle your limbs together.

You just hummed, nuzzling his neck before you started to press kisses on it. Your soft lips on his skin sent a shiver down his spine, which certainly didn’t help ease the effects of morning wood.

Minho was drowsy, maybe even still horny, but he needed to have this conversation with you, or he was sure he’d explode. “Can we talk about it now?”

You pulled yourself away from his neck to look him in the eyes. Reaching forward with your hand, you pushed his hair out of his eyes, and the movement made them fall shut. “What do you wanna talk about?”

You kept playing with his hair for a bit, then traced the features of his face with the pad of one of your fingers, until his eyes opened again.

“I need to know where we go from here”.

You took a deep breath, mulling his words. Finally, you retracted your hand from his face to hold his hand instead. “Minho, I let you do things to me last night that I’ve never let anyone else do. I don’t know about you, but I hope where we go from here is a relationship”.

Minho couldn’t help but wonder then if he would ever stop smiling like a fool after all this. “So you’re my girlfriend now? Is this what we’re doing?”

“Only if you’re my boyfriend”, you chuckled, leaning in to press a brief kiss on his cheek.

Minho hugged your waist, and he pulled you closer into him. “Mmm… Your ex is gonna have a field day if he ever finds out”.

Your ex had spent the last leg of your relationship with him convinced you had cheated on him with Minho. During the big fight that led to your breakup, he had told you how obvious it was that Minho had feelings for you. At the time you just dumped his ass, and Minho, Jisung, and you spent a whole evening just dragging his name through the mud.

That relationship didn’t last long anyway. He was probably, in Minho’s opinion, the worst partner you had ever had. He was insecure, misogynistic, and manipulative. You hadn’t cheated on him, but Minho supposed there was one thing he had been right about… he did have feelings for you back then.

You scoffed at the mention of your ex, rolling your eyes. “Just like your ex probably will, too”.

Ah, Minho’s ex… It had been a long time since Minho had been in a relationship, but how could he forget the ex that made him choose between him and you?

He could admit it was an asshole move to be involved romantically with someone while having feelings for someone else, but back then he was so deep in denial he couldn’t even acknowledge what he felt for you. Regardless, you were still his friend, and he’d never choose anyone else over one of his friends. In his opinion, someone that cared about him would never make him choose in the first place.

“I guess we’ll have to let them froth at the mouth with rage and believe whatever they want to believe. That is, if they still care”, Minho chuckled, rolling you on your back to start pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

That seemingly innocent act of smothering your face with kisses turned into a much less innocent mess of lips and tongues. Minho came to find out that making out with you was absolutely exhilarating, especially when it ended with his mouth between your legs.

Fucking you that morning might’ve not been the smartest move to make when you both were about to walk into a kitchen full of people with enhanced senses, but Minho figured that if anyone commented on it, he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was going to keep it a secret, anyway.

Although, he’d admit that having Jisung scream it to everyone in the room caught him off guard. Just like learning that everyone had placed bets on whether Minho and you would get together last night also caught him off guard.

He figured he deserved that last one, considering he himself had also gotten the rest of the pack to place bets on whether Chris and his girlfriend would fuck last night or not…

In any case, other than the bet, the whole pack seemed to seamlessly embrace this new dynamic between you and Minho. After all, starting a relationship with you didn’t change things much.

You still lived almost an hour away from him, you still encouraged him to indulge in his interests, you still talked every day… If anything, the only major difference was that you met more frequently now. Seeing you weekly instead of monthly was certainly an improvement.

It was kind of amusing to Minho how everything was almost the same. He still took you places, still held your hand and hugged you and brushed your hair out of your face whenever he felt like it, but now he could let his fingers linger on your skin for longer, he could lean in and press a kiss wherever he wanted on your face, and, at the end of the day, he could take you home and fuck you dumb for as long as you’d let him.

There was only one thing, though, that seemed to be a problem… It was something he didn’t really want to acknowledge, but he knew would explode on his face at some point.

Minho was an animal.

Eventually, he’d go into rut, and knowing you, he was sure you’d want to help him go through it.

Minho had never spoken to you about his ruts, but he knew you’d learnt a great deal about it from the other girls at the den as well as Jisung. You’d never brought it up to him before, and he was sure it was because you simply knew he didn’t want to talk about it. 

Now that you were his girlfriend, it was only a matter of time before he’d have to face this problem head on. Because that was what this whole thing was to Minho… a problem. 

Even if during his rut all he could think about was you, he usually got violent. Very violent.

He’d punch walls and break numerous pieces of furniture and appliances, and having you there with him could put you at risk of getting caught in the cross-fire. If he ever hurt you, Minho would never, ever forgive himself. Especially when he just knew you would. You would make excuses for him, you’d enable him and his animal ways like you always did, and he just didn’t want to put you in that position.

Granted, he should’ve probably told you all this, and he had been hyping himself up to do it, but you had been faster than him. The night you finally asked him about his rut he had been severely unprepared to handle the situation.

Minho told you he wouldn’t spend his rut with you. He could’ve probably worded it better, but before he knew it the situation escalated and you were having an argument and he had unintentionally made you feel unwanted, which was just so far from reality…

He wanted to tell you just how much he wanted you, but before he could you’d put space between yourselves and left him there on his own. It was late at night when it happened, but he wasn’t necessarily worried for your safety when you left, because he just knew you’d either go to one of the girls’ flats or to Jisung’s.

Forty minutes after the whole ordeal, he received a text from Jisung confirming his suspicions. The younger wolf told him you were at his place and that he’d take care of you for the night, which Minho was immensely grateful for.

He spent the entire night tossing and turning, wondering how to best word his predicament so he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt you and make you feel unwanted again. Essentially, his reservations when it came to spending his rut with you had nothing to do with you, and all to do with him.

So, the next morning, he made his way to Jisung’s and waited patiently for you to wake up. Jisung had given him a rundown of what had happened the night before, without revealing too much of what you’d told him since he usually liked to keep your conversations as private as possible–just like he kept the conversations he had with Minho as private as possible whenever he spoke to you.

So, when you woke up, Minho immediately explained the situation. He confessed to you how he’d always wanted you, how he couldn’t stop thinking about you whenever he went into rut, and how he got incredibly violent during that time period, so violent he feared he would harm you in any way.

You understood, of course. You always did.

You apologised for jumping to conclusions, and for forcing him to talk about something when he was clearly not ready to do it, which he appreciated. He also apologised for not communicating properly, an apology that you also seemed to accept. At the end of the day, he understood why the whole thing happened in the first place, and he made a mental note to try and not keep things like these from you ever again. 

Funny thing, how the universe always seems to play with people like they were little pieces in a funky little game.

When Minho did go into rut, he was so out of it he completely forgot to let you or anyone else know. You had a tendency to drop by his place unannounced, which he didn’t mind, but that day, it was far from ideal, to say the least.

He was sweating, frustrated, in pain, and the second he heard the beeps of the front door’s lock and the smell of your scent hit him, he just lost it.

It was all a blur after that. He tried to hold back, to tell you to leave, but you didn’t. Of course you wouldn’t leave…

To his surprise, that violence that seemed to seep out of him whenever he went into rut wasn’t there. His thoughts were plagued with only you and your lavender scent and the need to pleasure you and to pump you full of his pups.

When he finally managed to do all that, he quickly realised that he’d only ever been violent because he couldn’t have you. In retrospect, he should’ve known. But he’d proven to be tone deaf enough to not understand what his needs were, and this clearly wasn’t an exception.

Nothing had felt quite as fulfilling as spending that rut with you. It was all he’d ever wanted and more. His almost endless supply of cum, his knot, his insatiable need to fuck and fuck and fuck… You’d taken it all like a champ, and even when he wasn’t that in tune with his inner wolf, he could still feel just how proud it was, how proud he was of you.

The word mate kept repeating over and over in his mind the entire time, and he supposed you were his mate, all things considered.

Forever was a big word, but Minho figured that, at least at that point in time, he couldn’t ever imagine his life with anyone else. Especially not now that you were finally sharing your feelings with each other after years and years of pining.

For all he knew, anything that could have potentially been a problem in his relationship with you had been addressed after that. Minho was happy, you were happy, and it all seemed to have taken its natural course.

Except for one maybe not so small thing…

Minho wanted you to move in with him. He’d honestly wanted it since before you got together. He missed you often, and he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

The distance during the week was starting to stress him out way more than he’d like to admit, and even if he’d been slowly making space in his flat for you, he knew he’d ask you sooner or later. He hadn’t brought the topic up after you got together because he knew your job was important to you, and moving in with him would probably mean you’d have to quit and find something else closer to where the den was.

He could offer to support you financially, but he just knew you wouldn’t have wanted that. The second you’d started working and being financially independent, you couldn’t imagine ever having to rely on someone else–that was what you had told him all those years ago, at least…

You moving in with him made so much sense, though. Some weekends, Minho would go over to your place, but you’d told him several times that you preferred his home over yours. You’d told him it was more lively, that you enjoyed the presence of the other pack members, and that the only thing you genuinely liked about your flat was that Sir Percival was in it.

Sir Percival was your elderly cat that you adopted when you were a child. He was one of the many cats Minho had rescued, and he was probably the reason you ever spoke to Minho in the first place. Back then, the day you met, you approached him only because he was trying to save Sir Percival’s entire litter that had been abandoned by the side of the road.

So, yes. You moving in with him to Chris’ den just made all the sense in the world to him. Especially at moments like these.

Whenever Minho got to lay on your bed like he was doing now, he could certainly understand why you felt that his flat was more homely. You hardly had any decor in your room, and the whole flat was in a similar state. You never particularly liked this place in the first place, but you stayed because it was close to work and rent was relatively cheap.

‘I’ll probably move out soon, so no need to go all in on the decoration’, you’d told Minho years ago when you moved in. You kept putting it off, and now here this place was, void of anything that would highlight your wonderful personality other than the cat toys littering the floor, and the cat tower in the corner of your living room.

Whenever Minho came over, Sir Percival always avoided coming to your room unless it was absolutely necessary. The cat had told Minho that if he ever walked in on them having sex again he’d purposefully ruin the mood by throwing up a hairball, so he preferred to stay in the living room, even if it meant he couldn’t sleep by your feet like he loved to do.

That was fair, Minho supposed. He didn’t feel comfortable having Sir Percival in the room when you were getting intimate, either, so he appreciated the privacy. 

Right now, though, since he had woken up in the middle of the night and hadn’t been able to fall asleep again, he was wondering if he should go out and bring Sir Percival to bed. Maybe his warmth and his purring could help him fall asleep again…

Unlike Minho, you were sleeping soundly next to him, with your back turned to him. If he stood up from this bed he might wake you up, and he didn’t want you to be in his situation… So he settled on focusing on your steady breathing while he waited for sleep to claim him again.

It was just as he was almost asleep again that a minute sound made his body jerk awake. 

It came from you. It was a whimper, barely even audible. But how could he not hear it with his enhanced senses? When you were so close?

It would’ve worried him, had the smell of your arousal not knocked the air straight out of his lungs.

Minho would’ve never imagined his sleepless night would’ve taken him to this intersection, but here he was. He realised he could do one of three things… One, he could ignore the fact that you were right there next to him, presumably having a wet dream… Two, he could wake you up to reenact whatever it was you were dreaming about… Or three, he could use this as an opportunity to indulge in something he hardly ever did…

Since he started a relationship with you, Minho and you had many opportunities to try new things. You were quite open to try any and every seemingly odd activity in the bedroom–be it anal, or role-play, or some light bondage, you were always down to try it. And when Minho brought up his little fantasy of touching you while you were asleep, you’d been more than ecstatic to try it out… To the point where he was sure if he hadn’t brought it up, you would’ve done so eventually.

There was something about the fact that you trusted him enough to let him do things to you while you were unconscious that excited him. Maybe it was a projection of all those nights back then that he’d spent trying not to fantasise about you when you slept together, or maybe it was simply the act itself that he inexplicably enjoyed… Regardless of what it was, your little whimpers had his mind clouding a bit.

Sometimes, before you fell asleep next to each other, you’d turn to him and tell him ‘Maybe I’ll wake up to a surprise tomorrow…’ with that lilt in your voice that just let him know exactly in which way you wanted him to wake you up. That had been the case last night, and Minho had considered doing it a bit later, when the sun was starting to rise at least. But he figured, since you were already having a bit of fun in your dreams, maybe a midnight treat wouldn’t hurt.

Scooting closer to you, his hand found your waist. He held you tight while he pressed his nose to your pulsepoint, right under your jaw. He could hear your blood flowing, your heart rate increasing, and the scent of your excitement had him almost salivating.

Dragging his hand from your waist to your hip, he carefully caressed your body over the fabric of your sleeping gown, just as he pressed his growing erection against your ass. A tiny moan escaped your mouth, but your steady heartbeat let him know you were still pretty much asleep.

Whatever it was you were dreaming about had you shuffling the tiniest bit, enough for your ass to rub against his crotch, and he could already feel a bit of wetness soiling the material of his sleeping shorts. His own fluids, to be precise. It was one of those things that shocked him after he turned, just how much fluid his body could produce. Be it saliva, or sweat, or cum… It was slightly inconvenient, but at the very least, you always seemed to enjoy it, so he supposed it wasn’t so bad.

Minho dragged his hand from where it’d been caressing your hip up your torso, stopping only when he was finally able to cup one of your breasts. He generously fondled and squeezed the flesh, not holding back one bit. If you woke up, you woke up, and if you didn’t, you didn’t. Simple as that.

Dragging the pad of one of his fingers over your stiffening nipple, he relished the way your heartbeat picked up, as well as the way you started to writhe a bit in his hold.

“You’re so soft, baby…” Minho couldn’t help but mumble against the skin of your neck, and you whined, almost like you were reacting to him. And maybe you were. He liked to believe that to be the case.

He pinched and twisted your nipple between his fingers, pressing kisses on your neck and grinding his now fully hardened length against your ass. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about, my kitten… Is it me? I hope it’s me…”

Minho was very quiet, but he hoped you could hear him even in your dreams. He figured you might’ve, considering how fast your heart was beating now.

He was genuinely planning on dragging this out for as long as possible, but when you mumbled something akin to his name, he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He removed his hand from your breast after one final hefty squeeze, only to bring that same hand between your bodies. His digits made contact with your entrance, and he couldn’t help but take in a deep breath at just how wet you were.

He wondered how much of it was your own arousal, and how much of it was his own cum that might’ve remained there from when you had sex last night before going to bed. He didn’t come inside often, but when he did, the thought of you having a part of him within your warmth did things to him, it tickled a secluded area of his brain, and it certainly excited him. He supposed it was instinctual. One of those wolf things he hardly ever paid attention to.

Delaying no further, he freed himself out of his sleeping shorts, just enough to drag the tip of his cock up and down your drenched folds. Minho almost got winded when he heard the moan that came out of your mouth in response to his motions. Your lavender scent wrapping around every single one of his nerve-endings enticed him, and he just couldn’t deny himself anymore.

He usually preferred to make sure you were well stretched enough to take him in, but considering you’d been stretched plenty last night, he figured you’d be just fine. And he was proven correct when he finally pushed himself fully within your warmth, when the wetness between yours legs let him slide in with ease.

Minho couldn’t help but groan at the feeling, just as a moan of your own escaped your mouth.

“You’re so warm, baby…”

He pulled his hips back, only to push them forward to start a slow, pleasant rhythm. His hold was tight on your hip, your heart sounded like it was close to leaping out of your chest, and the second your walls clenched on his length, he just knew you’d wake up soon… You’d wake up exactly to what you had wanted.

“Oh–oh, Minho…”

There was no mistaking it anymore, your barely audible moans had slightly increased in tone, and you’d started to push your hips back a bit.

Minho just hummed in response, dragging his hand from your hip to your lower belly. You placed your own hand on top of his, lacing your fingers together and sighing contently.

The kisses he left on your neck and the exposed skin of your shoulder seemed to spur you on, the movement of your hips increased in pace, and he just increased his in return. He was mumbling nonsense against your skin, tightening his hold on your interlocked fingers, getting completely lost in the feel of your tight warmth around him.

Before he knew it, you had turned your body a bit, and he had pushed your legs apart to get better access to your heat.

With an arm below you for his hand to hold yours, he took advantage of this position by using his other hand to pull one of your legs over his hip and for his fingers to find their rightful place between your legs.

You just kissed him. You kissed him like you’d die if you didn’t, mumbling words of appreciation of your own between each kiss, broken up by moans and sighs and whimpers with every thrust of his hips and every circle drawn on your clit.

“You’re so good to me”, you mumbled, tightening your hold on his hand, moaning so prettily he almost blew then and there.

“And you to me”, he replied simply, picking up his pace, relishing your scent and your warmth and just… you.

Time always seemed to slow down whenever you had sex, especially at these hours of the night, to the point where he could never tell how long it’d been since that first thrust. All Minho could register was how incredibly good he felt, how your heart was thumping fast in your chest, and how hard you were clamping around his cock.

The sounds you made whenever you came undone under his touch and his motions were like music to his ears, they spurred him on, borderline urged him to come himself. And there was certainly hardly anything he would’ve enjoyed more right now than to blow his load while you were still spasming around him, while all you could mumble was his name, while all he could mumble was yours.

Your chest rose and fell with your deep breaths, and while the after effects of his orgasm still clung to every single one of his senses, you pulled him in for a slow, tender kiss. Minho immediately melted, holding you tighter and still enjoying the comfort of your inner walls.

When you pulled back from the kiss, he brushed his nose against yours, making you smile and giggle, and you sounded incredibly sleepy even after all that had transpired just minutes ago. He pulled you into his arms, entangling his legs with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Everything was calm around you. The room was barely illuminated by the lampposts outside your windows, and Minho suddenly felt like humming a random song you’d been listening to earlier in the evening… So he did, all as he caressed your hair.

You nuzzled your face further into his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him tight. Right then, Minho figured that every choice he had ever made, that everything that had happened to him, had taken him to this moment, and if that were truly the case, then he honestly wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“Babe?” You mumbled, the sound slightly muffled against the fabric of his vest top.

“Hm?” Minho kept caressing your hair, your back, holding you close and keeping you there.

“I love you”.

He honestly couldn’t help but smile. Of course he knew you loved him. You’d shown him just how much countless times before. Not only throughout your relationship, but way before that… He’d honestly known since that time you hugged him when he had shapeshifted into a wolf the very first time.

“I love you, kitten, baby… So much”.

You pulled away from his chest and looked at him, with a blinding smile on your face. Granted, he could hardly see it in the dark room, but he saw enough. Enough to know just how much you cared. 

But alas, Minho was first and foremost your best friend, and even if he was melting on the inside with your confession, he just had to be annoying about it. “I can’t believe you beat me to say it first, though. I won’t ever forgive you”.

You gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to your mouth for emphasis. “Here I am? Baring my heart to you? And this is what I get? Fine, I won’t ever forgive you for never forgiving me”.

You were just about to turn away from him, he just knew. So he held you tighter, keeping you in place while he laughed. Your façade crumbled immediately, and you laughed with him, all while he kept pressing kisses on your cheeks.

“Guess I’ll just have to say it as much as possible to get the upper hand”, Minho mumbled against your cheek, just before he started leaving behind an ‘I love you’ after every kiss he pressed on your heated skin.

When your chuckles died down, and he was satisfied with the amount of times he had professed his love, silence enveloped you both once again. Minho simply laid on his back, hugging you close as you laid your head on his chest, right over his heart.

He wasn’t sure if it was the admittance of his feelings, or the hormonal rush of a good fuck, or your lavender scent that seemed to make him delirious sometimes, but, before he knew it, the words were coming out of his mouth with no way to stop them.

“Would you like to move in with me?”

No take-backsies now, he supposed.

You took in a deep breath, but remained silent for a moment.

It was just as Minho was about to panic that you finally spoke. “Do you think Chris would accept Sir Percival into the pack as well? I’m not leaving him behind”.

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. “He’ll have to. Otherwise I’ll threaten him until he does”.

It was all a bluff… mostly.

Minho would respect any decision Chris took, but if it came to it, he kind of knew that if he laid out why it was important to him to take in both you and Sir Percival, Chris would agree, so he wasn’t particularly worried. Sir Percival already respected Chris, from what Minho knew, so he was almost ninety percent sure it wouldn’t be a problem.

You took in another deep breath, pulling yourself away from Minho’s hug so you could straddle him instead. With your full weight on his body and your hands on his chest, you looked down at him, taking in his features.

“I guess I’ll need to start applying for jobs, then”, you just smiled brightly at him.

Minho held your waist, smiling at you in return right before he pulled you down for a kiss. With you and Sir Percival there at the den, his family would finally be complete, and he felt as if his heart was about to burst at the thought.

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General Masterlist Minho's WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

[redfoxwritesstuff]

For Eternity, Chapter 2 of 13

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult - this fic contains content inappropriate for minors. Chapter Warnings: Suggestions of sexual assault

@impulsivethoughtsat2am Was darling enough to beta <3 Many thanks, Dearheart.

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

“Welcome back, Ladies!” Alastor was in the hotel lobby as soon as the doors opened. “How did your ill-fated endeavor go?” 

“Bad.” Vaggie answered, not wanting to talk about any of it. The less people that knew her angelic origin story, the better in her mind. 

“Alastor?” Charlie tried to find the similarities between the man in the picture she had spent most of the trip home looking at and the one standing before her. 

“Whatever can I do for you?” He was in front of her in a heartbeat, leaning into her space slightly, hands planted on his cane as was his way.

“I think maybe I have something for you?” Charlie held out the silver pocket watch. 

“Angelic steel?” He asked as he stepped closer, eyebrow cocked in curiosity. “As a pocket watch? What a silly trinket to bring back. Pocket watches were a thing of the past long before my day.”

“It was given to me. A woman, she asked me to give it to you. At least, I think you’re who it’s for. Maybe there’s another Alastor? Or one who isn’t dead yet. Or one that already had their soul destroyed. Or-”

Alastor bounced the watch in his hand a few times, enjoying the weight of a well made pocket watch in the palm of his hand. Wristwatches had indeed replaced the pocket by in his time on earth. Still, they had an elegance he had favored in life that few knew about. 

They made handy trinkets to fiddle with. In life, he’d run his thumb over the faceplate of the watch his wife had gotten him while he stalked his victims… or while he sat through pointless meetings. 

She had gotten it for him as a gift early in their marriage, upon discovering his rather modest personal collection. It’s weight lived in his pocket during those few short months they had spent together. In the time after her death however, he had wore the faceplate smooth, running his thumb over it again and again as he went about his daily life. 

Alastor froze as he opened the watch. A face he had spent what felt like eternity trying to forget looked up at him.

He had hoped that was where she was. He had feared she had already perished in hell, having been damned for one wrong thought or some childhood action like so many of the weakest sinners in the realm. 

Static jumbled his voice, radio filter going heavy, “Where did you get this?” 

“A woman, she gave it to me.” A shiver ran up Charlie’s spine as Alastor clicked closed the watch and slipped it in his pocket, moving without a trace of the dangerous flair of power he had displayed. “Do you- is she-”

“My wife.” He confirmed. Though they had been separated in death, he wouldn’t deny her. He had spent decades trying and failing to forget her, but he would never deny her outright. 

“You had a wife?” Angel was too shocked to add any quips to his question. Alastor having a wife ment that surely, at some point he had an interest in more than just himself. “Does that mean that you do-”

“I advise you to speak carefully,” Words came nearly lost in static as shadows deepened, lights dimmed and Alastor’s back twisted and his neck turned far more than should have been possible so Angel was faced with his terrifying face. 

“What is she like?” Charlie was eager to settle the mood and learn more of the woman who she had only gotten to meet for a fleeting moment.

“She was sweet as honey. A woman truly deserving of Heaven.”

“How’ed she end up with a fella like you?” Angel stuck his neck out to ask the question on everyone’s mind, not having enough sense of self preservation to keep his mouth shut after the first warning. 

“I was far from deserving of her,” Alastor felt like such didn’t need saying. “We had family connections pushing us together. Is she well?” 

Charlie hesitated, her mind replaying the way Adam manhandled the wisp of a woman. 

“She’s in Heaven.” Vaggie answered, as if that was an answer. 

Alastor accepted it with a nod, “I thank you for bringing me her trinket.” 

“She said to tell you that she loved you,” Charlie blurted out. “No, that’s not exactly it. She would always love you, that was it. I didn’t have a chance to talk to her but she said she would wait forever for you.”

The wide toothed smile on Alastor’s face closed, pulling tight, “She shouldn’t.”

“You can try for redemption.” Charlie felt renewed hope for him. He had someone to be redeemed for!

“No, thank you.” Alastor’s smile grew again, cut wide by his sharp teeth. “I am hardly the man she knew. I thank you again, for the trinket, and carrying my Isabel’s message. Good Night.”

~~~~~<3

Adam was in a rage as he threw her against the wall. Isabel wished for nothing more than to die. If this was heaven, she didn’t want to be here. 

“What were you talking about!”

“I just wanted to find him.” She whimpered in the face of Adam’s rage. He was held up as the perfect man, the first man. If he was placed next to the man she loved though, he couldn’t even live up to his shadow. 

“He’s a disgusting Sinner!” Adam grabbed her again. “Why do you hold out for him? You could have me, the original dick.”

“You’ll never be half the man he was!” 

Adam threw her on the floor and loomed over her. “Take what I am willing to give you,” His hand grasped her ankle and pulled her toward him as she tried to get away. “And I will make you forget him.” 

“You’re as much a sinner as anyone in hell!” She kicked at him, “This is no Heaven. This is but a beautiful blasphemous lie. This is Hell!” 

~~~~~<3

Alastor sat in Rosie’s parlor, teacup of rich warm blood swirling as he was lost in his thoughts. Across from him sat his dearest friend in Hell. Her territory was a refuge for him, somewhere without cameras and where those who would spread idle gossip about him were not eager to wander inside.

“Alastor Dear, As glad as I am to see your face, what troubles you?” 

Rosie had been sitting in silence, watching him. She waited patiently for him to open up before her soft prodding, though she wouldn’t dare push or pry. Maintaining a friendship with her often chaotic fellow Overlord took some delicacy and respect for his many boundaries and walls.

“My wife,” Alastor’s smile was subdued yet ever present even as the weight of his punishment in hell crashed over him once again. 

It was a weight he had long ago gotten used to. He had learned to thrive under but when he was forced to remember this part of his living life, it was a stone around his neck that threatened to try to drown him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he would let it.

He needed to once again cast aside the stone. She was where she belonged and he would never be with her again. So what if she waited for him? So what if she still loved him? She didn’t know the sins he carried. He needed to throw her memory aside, once again, and leave the past in the past. 

There was nothing that could be done to change anything. 

She sat back in her chair, back perfectly straight and empty eyes wide. Sure, she had been privy to the fact that at one time, he had been married but most gave up such ownership over their spouse after a few decades, referring to them as former, ex or late.

It was easy to assume due to his apparent lack of romantic or sexual drive that he had mentally divorced himself from the relationship long ago, shed the shackles that societal expectations bound him with in his life. They hadn’t spoken explicitly about his preferences or desires, it wouldn’t be proper, but she had a way of knowing these things. 

Or at least, she had thought she did.

The idea that taking a wife had been anything more meaningful to him than the socially expected and proper thing to do hadn’t crossed even her mind. All things exist in a spectrum, she supposed, and matters of the heart were rarely anything less than complex. 

Alastor placed a open pocket watch on the table between them after she was all but certain that he wasn’t going to discuss the matter further, “She’s in Heaven.” 

“How did you get this?” She asked, picking the silver watch, gleaming in a way things in hell rarely did, and examining the picture inside. 

It was hand sketched and ever so detailed. Crafting the image clearly took a significant amount of time. Someone had slaved over the artwork inside for a great many hours to produce something that had near photo results. 

“Is this-?” 

“My Darling and I, the day we wed.” Alastor confirmed. “She had always been a talented artist, though I’d say her skills have progressed significantly in the decades since she left my side.” 

“It’s very good,” Rosie said, “You made a lovely couple.” 

“Our Darling Princess delivered it when she returned from Heaven,” Alastor took a long pull from his teacup. “A gift from Isabel.”

“I’m so sorry, Alastor.” She slid the watch back toward him, not sure what the proper thing to say to him in that moment was. 

“No need, my dear friend.” He absently responded as he pocketed the watch, sparing a moment to run his thumb over the faceplate hiding the picture inside. “No need. She is where she belongs, as am I.” 

“Yet it weighs on you,” Rosie pointed out, “You long for her?”

“Perhaps.” Alastor wasn’t fond of the questioning but thankfully, Rosie did so with tact and respect. It was something lacking from the hotel residents who struggled to picture him caring for anyone, let alone as a husband. “She is safe, as she should be.”

“It’s a relief then?” Rosie asked, plucking a lady finger from the plate between them. “To know she didn’t parish in an extermination?” 

It hadn’t occurred to her that he had been looking for, hunting for anything more than the powerful demons he killed as he arose to power. Perhaps there had been a bit of something else driving the events of those days. Now wasn’t the time to ask however.

“To know that she is where she belongs,” Alastor countered.

“Which isn’t with you?” Rosie delicately tried to untangle the complexities of her dear friend. 

“Which is somewhere safe,” Alastor corrected. “You know just as well as I, Hell chews up and spits out those who are not savage enough to earn respect and take power.” 

~~~~~<3

Sulfur stung her nose as the portal to Hell opened. This was her chance, she had humored Adam though it had made her skin crawl to get to this moment. Adam wasn’t an intelligent man but still, it wasn’t easy to allow him to believe that she was finally willing to entertain his advances, his hands on her. 

It was too much to hope for that he would know anything about her husband but he was her ticket to where he was. It was common knowledge that Adam took his warrior angles between Heaven and Hell in order to protect the gates. 

There’s no way she could convince Adam to take her with him. Manipulation wasn’t her strength in the slightest. Just pretending to accept Adams advances was challenging enough. 

It wasn’t for nothing at least. It had gotten her here, standing at the front of the select crowd who would see off Adam and his warriors to the mighty battle as the citizens of Hell once again rose up to try and overtake the gates. This was a war only a select few knew about and being one of those few took work. 

Golden sparks kicked to life in the air in front of the army. Sparks grew, swirling to life into a large portal from what had started as a pinprick. Adam offered her a cocky grin that she did not return before he lead the first wave of his army though.

This was her chance, Isabel knew. It was now or never. If she let this chance pass by, she wouldn’t get another. 

Counting, Isabel prepared herself to do something she knew she could never come back from. 

One. Looking in the distance she saw her Mother-in-law nod her blessing. How she had managed to get that close, Isabel would never be able to ask her. Everything she had learned, everything she had feared, everything she had experienced in Heaven, she had shared with her dear Alastor’s mother. If anyone knew how much being separated from him was torture to her, it would be his mother. 

Two. She fluttered out her wings, tensing muscles and ruffling feathers. To pull this off she needed every feather in place. She needed every muscle to propel her forward before anyone could stop her. Hopefully at least. 

Three. One last deep breath of the cleanest air she would ever breathe as the hot sulphuric air wafted into heaven from the open portal. Just a few more rows of the army were left. 

 Now. She ran, long dress clutched in one fist as she hiked the hemline up to her knees, wishing she had worn the dip hemline she had favored instead of the ankle long hemline Adam liked. She had to manage without getting caught. She had to make it through and out of reach of the angels while she fell. 

One powerful beat after the other allowed her to pick up speed as she ran forward, going as fast as her legs would carry her. Then she was going faster, feet grazing the stone floors as she shot forward into the stream of deadly angel warriors.

Fingers grazed the feathers of her wings in a startled attempt to stop her as she shot away from the army. For a moment, she was disorientated. 

They were supposed to be high above hell, defending the gates from one of the frequent uprisings. She had planned to fall, hoping to miss the battle and fall fairly safely.

Instead, the portal all but threw her out into the battle near the grounds of Hell. This wasn’t right but Isabel had no time to get her feet under her. The air burned her lungs as she gulped  air as her wings beat with all the strength she could manage. 

Dodging out from the army, a black tentacle nearly knocked her out of the air. She had to get away from here, where ever here was before she could do anything else. Flying from rooftop to rooftop, she did everything she could to try and put distance between her and the battle without drawing attention to herself.

Once the fighting was over, she would look for him. First she had to find somewhere safer to wait out the violent fighting taking place around the large building. Surely, everyone would be paying attention to the battle and one lone angel wouldn’t draw too much attention, right?

~~~~~<3

TagList: @catticora, @alastor-simp

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 3

of  this post /  Chapter 2 / read it all on ao3 Here

Steve was warm.

He was also naked in a bath that belonged to Eddie.

It was a nice bath, much larger than the one he and Robin rarely used, and full of bubbles that smelled like peppermint.

Eddie told him it would help keep him awake, but also help him stay relaxed.

He was right.

He was also currently making Steve a grilled cheese (his favorite) and letting him listen to music through his phone speaker (his relaxing playlist that he used for his paperwork hours at home). He’d made sure the bath was hot, but not scalding the way Steve usually had it. He didn’t leave the room until Steve was laying in the bath, head resting against the towel Eddie set up along the edge, eyes closed to keep his senses dulled. According to Eddie, that was really important.

He’d lit a few candles and kept them on the side of the sink, then shut off the light before leaving to make Steve’s sandwich.

Steve was still completely unable to speak.

That was more than a little unnerving.

He knew what he needed and wanted to say, but nothing came out.

But he trusted Eddie for some reason. He’d unpack that later.

Maybe.

Probably not.

For a guidance counselor, he wasn’t that great at giving himself guidance. Or counseling.

“Stevie?”

“Hm?”

Hey! Progress! He made a noise!

“Got your sandwich,” Eddie held up the plate and smiled at Steve, who had opened his eyes, but hadn’t bothered to lift his head from where it rested against the back of the tub. He was too comfy. “You wanna dry your hands so you can eat?”

He wanted to eat, but he certainly didn’t want to move. His hands were so warm in the water. If he took them out of the bath they’d be cold and probably pruned, which was not attractive.

Not that it mattered if he was attractive, but he didn’t want Eddie to have anything else to add to the list he’d titled ‘Why Steve Harrington Is Not A Catch.’

“Sunshine, you have to eat something.”

Steve sighed. He blinked at Eddie in hopes that he would understand what he was trying to say.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to the tub and lifted the sandwich up to Steve’s mouth.

That wasn’t what Steve was trying to say, but he couldn’t really argue since he was still apparently nonverbal.

Eddie had briefly explained that that happened a lot during subspace, and sometimes it happened during a drop.

Steve took a bite of the sandwich and groaned.

It was good.

Or maybe he was just really hungry.

Either way, he leaned in to take another bite before he’d even finished chewing the first. He didn’t even care if it was disgusting or rude, he just needed to eat.

“Good boy. But don’t eat too fast, sunshine. Don’t want you to feel sick.”

“Mhm.”

Steve relaxed again, letting Eddie hold the sandwich up to his mouth to take a bite every minute or so.

It was nice. Too nice.

Steve had never been taken care of like this. Even when he was with Nancy, she would usually leave him alone when he was sick or tired, not wanting to expend the energy it takes to get him through an illness or exhaustion.

He was a little needy sometimes. He covered it up well after Nancy, not wanting anyone, not even Robin, to know he sometimes needed someone to care for him.

He hadn’t even noticed he drifted off again until Eddie was running his fingers through his barely wet hair.

“C’mon sunshine. Water’s getting too cold. Gotta get you in bed.”

And then he was in what he assumed was Eddie’s bed in what he assumed were Eddie’s clothes in what he assumed was big trouble.

He let himself feel safe.

He hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

– – – – – – – – – –

When he woke up, he was alone.

He was used to being alone.

In fact, a part of his brain told himself he would have been more worried if he wasn’t alone.

But he wasn’t in his bed, which meant at some point very recently he wasn’t alone.

And then it all came rushing back to him.

This was Eddie’s bed. Eddie, the tattoo artist he barely knew, who helped him through whatever the fuck he went through yesterday.

He turned onto his side and nearly fell out of bed when he saw that he wasn’t alone. Eddie was asleep, body curled up facing Steve, but keeping some distance between them. His breathing was slow and quiet, and his body looked relaxed despite the uncomfortable looking position he was in.

Steve watched as Eddie slept, thinking through the events of the night before.

Eddie had known what to do, what he needed, and how to make sure he got it even when he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t taken advantage of him, even though it would have been easy to do with Steve so out of it.

Eddie let out a snore and Steve couldn’t help the endeared smile that crossed his face.

Nope, you stop that right the fuck now, Steven Harrington.

He was about to slap himself in the face to prevent himself from actually having feelings when Eddie’s eyes shot open.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Eddie smiled, and Steve was definitely in trouble.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Um. Hi.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can get dressed.”

Steve started to sit up, but Eddie reached his hand out to stop him.

“No rush. Seriously, take your time. I don’t have to be at the shop until 12 today.”

Which reminded Steve that it was Sunday, he had nowhere to be, and he was currently very cozy. Maybe he could stay for a little while. Just until he was more awake.

“I don’t wanna take up more of your time. You’ve done enough I think.”

“It’s fine, Steve.” Steve felt himself make a face at the name and Eddie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I dunno. Just used to you saying Stevie or Sunshine.”

Eddie smirked at him and Steve felt his stomach drop. Where it dropped to, he didn’t know, and he didn’t think he would ever find it again with the way he felt completely hollowed out.

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you, Stevie. That was pretty intense last night.”

His tone was serious, but he kept a soft smile on his face, probably to make sure Steve didn’t run away without talking about some of it.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about everything. I really wouldn’t have even gotten a tattoo if I thought that would happen.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You can’t control it. How would you have known it would happen?” Eddie raised one brow as if to dare Steve to argue. “Exactly. You didn’t know. I’m glad I was around to help. Hate to think what could’ve happened if it was someone else.”

And, yeah, Steve was worried about that now too. Eddie seemed to know a lot about this, so Steve took this opportunity to ask some questions. He certainly couldn’t ask Robin.

It was a long conversation, and Eddie never talked to him like he was stupid. He was patient and kind, and was honest if he didn’t know the answer to something. He occasionally reached out to brush some of Steve’s hair out of his face or squeeze his hand if he seemed like he couldn’t figure out how to phrase something, bringing him back to the present and keeping his thoughts in order.

They went over how he could prepare for it next time, but Steve said he probably wouldn’t be getting another tattoo anytime soon.

Eddie said he would prefer that he come to him if he did or at least have someone who could help him through it if he went somewhere else.

“So, before the drop…” Steve stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Well, he did, but he didn’t know if actually wanted to say it out loud.

Eddie looked at him expectantly, an encouraging smile pointed at Steve in a way he couldn’t resist.

“Before the drop. I really felt…good. Like I was untouchable and nothing bad could happen. Is that always like that? The subspace thing?”

“I’ve never experienced subspace. I mean, I’ve tried a couple times when I first started messing around with people, but it just didn’t happen for me. But I’ve been with plenty of subs when they’re floating and they describe it like that, yeah. Like you can feel everything and nothing at once, but everything is good. It’s a high you can’t even get from drugs. Which is why the crash from it can be so fucking awful.”

It still didn’t make sense how Steve got to this point, how he had ever reached that high from needles pressing into his skin and Eddie being nice to him, and how he’d fallen so far so fast.

But what Eddie said was exactly how he’d felt the night before. He wasn’t really able to put it into words like Eddie had.

“So will I always drop if I end up there again?”

“Not if you’re with the right person and you can figure out limits and what causes it for you. Everyone is different. For you, it seems like pain might do it, but you would have to be in the right mindset to get there no matter what.”

“I wasn’t really in any type of mindset last night.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like it. But it’s hard to really know when you weren’t expecting it.”

Steve bit his lip. How could he have not known? How did he make it to 27 years old not having a clue?

“Hey.” Eddie’s thumb rubbed against his bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth. “You didn’t know. It’s normal for a lot of people to never know. If you weren’t into the scene before, how would you know? But now you do. And now you just have to be careful in the future. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

Steve was gonna die right here in Eddie’s bed. Who the fuck just says shit like that? His heart skipped a beat like in those stupid romance books Nancy used to read.

How dumb.

“Is pouting your natural state?”

Steve pouted harder, bottom lip pushing out as far as he possibly could just to be ridiculous.

It was worth being and feeling ridiculous to hear Eddie’s laugh.

“Listen, I know I just threw a lot at you and you may have more questions. You’ve got my number on that tattoo care sheet, so make sure you call me or text me if you have any questions, okay? And if you want another tattoo and don’t feel comfortable going somewhere else, I’m happy to do it all over again, hopefully without the drop this time.”

“What if I wanted to float again? Without the tattoo.”

Steve should shut his mouth. He really should shut his fucking mouth.

Eddie searched his face, much like he did the night before. What the hell was he looking for?

He glanced behind Steve for a moment and then back at him.

“I’ve gotta get up and get ready. But we have to have a really big talk before I can agree to that.” Steve felt his own face fall, but Eddie quickly continued. “Not because I don’t want to, sunshine. I think you’re at the part of the post-high feeling where you wanna reach it again right away. That can be really bad for you and for me, okay? But I’m done at 7 tonight. You busy?”

Steve was never busy on the weekends unless Robin was dragging him to a club and he’d be damned if he tried to go to a club instead of being with Eddie.

Which is another thing he probably should start unpacking very soon.

“No. I have work at 7:30 in the morning though.”

“Ah, right. Guidance counselor.” Eddie smirked. “Nothing’s gonna happen tonight except talking. You could also…bring stuff to spend the night here if you want.”

Eddie seemed incredibly nervous to even suggest it, and maybe if it was anyone else, Steve would’ve laughed and ran out the door, never to look back at the batshit insane person trying to have him spend the night within 24 hours of knowing him.

But Steve thought about how well he slept in Eddie’s bed with Eddie last night, and he thought about how his bed was pretty lonely, and how maybe waking up here again would make him feel better about having to exist on Monday.

“Yeah. I could do that.”

Eddie’s answering smile was nothing short of blinding.

“Great! Okay. Let’s head on back to the shop so you can get your car. Is Robin home?”

“Probably. She’s probably waiting to see my name on the news with the headline “Dead Body of Idiot Man Trying To Get First Tattoo Found” and a picture of me from the yearbook.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

It was nice.

Usually, Steve got annoyed when people laughed so loudly, but Eddie’s was nice.

Eddie was nice.

“So. 7?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

— — — — — — — — — —

Eddie didn’t let Steve stray far while they got ready to leave.

Steve would never admit how much he loved it.

During the drive back to the shop, Eddie played music Steve had never heard, and probably never would have if not for him. He didn’t exactly like it, but he didn’t mind it, especially when he watched Eddie sing along with a passion Steve hadn’t really ever felt.

They didn’t need to talk and Steve didn��t feel pressured to try.

He hadn’t felt so comfortable around someone since he first met Robin, and he was holding onto the panic he knew was coming when he was alone.

He was still feeling tired. His emotions had been on a hell of a journey over the last 18 hours, and Eddie had already warned him he probably would be feeling the effects of it all for another day or so.

But Eddie also explained that without the drop, it’s worth it.

He wanted to know what that felt like.

And he wanted to know what it felt like with Eddie.

So when they arrived at the shop and said goodbye, Eddie hugged him tightly, holding him against his chest. Steve wasn’t much shorter than him, but he managed to fold himself into him without being uncomfortable, resting his face against his collarbone and breathing in the scent he was already addicted to.

They separated, but neither seemed ready or willing to.

Did Eddie feel this pull the way Steve did? Was Steve just attaching himself to someone who helped him through his most vulnerable time?

As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder to find Eddie staring after him, keeping eyes on him as he walked to his car. He was frowning.

Maybe he did feel as much as Steve. 

Chapter 4

TAG LIST:  @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine

[mercy-love-joy]

Pride Comes At A Cost

A mini summary of an interaction between my Cookie-fied OC and DragonBerry Cookie

Beast Ancient AU belongs to @cuppajj

Main premise:

"Old Caviar" Cookie had a wife who was a family friend of Royal Berry Cookie. The girl was one of the few friends Royal Berry Cookie had growing up in the palace. Sea Anemone Cookie was an author who wrote many different genres of books (romantic comedy was once a favorite of HollyBerry Cookie) and "Old Caviar" Cookie was a Navy Captain before he retired to marry Sea Anemone Cookie.

After the Ancient Heroes became Beasts, "Old Caviar" refused to allow his wife to go anywhere near the "HollyBerry Kingdom" which has now turned into the DragonBerry Empire. Unfortunately, Sea Anemone Cookie grew ill, she was taken to the Creme Republic but was denied due to too many cookies fleeing to the city for protection, so "Old Caviar" Cookie takes her to a smaller village. In hopes that maybe DragonBerry Cookie was willing to help, "Old Caviar" Cookie sent a letter begging the Queen for help. But got nothing in return.

The author passes away by the touch of Saint Vanilla Cookie when the shark cookie goes to sea to find any medicine for his wife but fails. Struck with grief and guilt, "Old Caviar" Cookie stays on the boat where he and his wife live.

Sometime later, DragonBerry sees the old boat and she recognizes the ship. She goes over to see the couple, only to be greeted by an aggressive and distasteful shark cookie who does not like seeing the Queen on his boat.

The Queen demands to see the author but is struck with the reality of Sea Anemone's death. "Old Caviar" Cookie blames DragonBerry for his wife's death and demands she never speaks with him. And the Queen tosses a half-apology before leaving. The memory of the author disappearing as the Beast of Pride leaves the boat and leaving the old shark to wallow in his grief alone until he crumbles.

Some notes to add to the piece:

This was originally going to be a AO3 fic but I lost motivation as I started to press harder on the details for the drawing so I thought maybe this would be more acceptable. Maybe I'll turn it into a fic when I'm not so burned out.

First time drawing backgrounds and spaces. Somewhat proud but I can improve!

My favorite panel is the one with Sea Anemone Cookie floating behind DragonBerry Cookie, that was my favorite panel to draw and my least favorite was drawing that bookcase. It was so tedious to color and draw.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #40] Spinning Bottles

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

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

wc: 14.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unbelievable .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeongguk still stares at you like a lovesick puppy regardless.

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

That last one earns a few groans from the crowd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeongguk calls you a pussy from across the room.

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

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

By the third round, things are getting lairy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin doesn't tell you to drink.

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

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

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

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

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

Probably best.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really has to ask?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You love it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don't wanna know,

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

What kind of dress you're wearing tonight.

But then you stop singing, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You speak quietly to him beneath pandemonium unfurling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The real pièce de résistance?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Body rock; I wanna see your body rock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, it's torture .

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

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

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

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

You're proven right when you're all sitting on the floor, taking a break from the home-noraebang session.

Still drinking, talking about nonsense, Taehyung is twiddling with his empty soju bottle turned noraebang mic on the carpet. He's spinning it without much thought, never really letting it stop - but when it does?

Yeah, Danbi is in one of those moods.

"On Jimin?" Danbi exclaims with a gasp, casting her eyes down to the bottle as it comes to a stop, the cap-end facing a very confused Jimin.

Taehyung looks just as confused for a second. Follows her gaze - and then realises what she's insinuating. "Oh, God. No. Absolutely not!"

He's not about to play spin the fucking bottle - especially not with his friends when his girlfriend is right beside him.

Jimin immediately takes offence, much in the same way he did when Jeongguk refused to fuck him. If even his friends won't get with him, what chance does he have?

"What's wrong with me?! Why wouldn't you?" He wails, flopping down to the floor from his seated position. "First Gguk, now you?"

"I'm not kissing you."

"Why not?" He whines. Doesn't really want to kiss Taehyung, but is offended that Taehyung doesn't want to kiss him. Rude.

"Because!" Taehyung says, hoping that it's reason enough.

For Jimin, it absolutely is not reason enough.

"This is so mean. I'd kiss you if the bottle told me to," he assures his friend.

Danbi, in classic, troublesome, Danbi style eggs it on. Says to Taheyung, "I'd kiss DB."

"Okay firstly," you laugh, looking at her with shock. "Since when the fuck have you ever called me DB ?!"

"It's just your name, now," Jimin interrupts. "Accept it."

"No," you don't bother humouring him, but are still finding the whole thing incredibly funny. "And secondly, we've already kissed a bunch of times, so it doesn't matter."

Jeongguk and Taehyung both chirp in surprise at this. Look at their respective girlies with little confusion, and are both met with a collective, "What?"

"I mean, do guys not kiss their besties?" Nabi interjects from across the circle, which also makes Jeongguk whip his head up towards her. You know the confusion directed at you is now directed towards her, and her bestie.

And it pisses you off - because you're drunk, and thoughts are irrational, and even though Jeongguk is well within his right to maybe be surprised, you think he's stupid for caring about where Hayun's mouth has been.

He doesn't care. Not like that. You know this.

Know that any embers that had still been burning for her when you first met him have well and truly been put out.

You're the one who cares. You're the one who is being stupid.

But isn't everyone a little irrational when they've had a few too many?

Reaching over to the bottle, you turn to look at him, and just say, "It's like, so normal; kissing your friends."

It's not like you ever kiss Danbi when you're sober. Only ever when you're drunk, and not really ever with much thought behind it.

Granted, you haven't done it in years. Was more of a thing you'd do during your reckless uni years.

Once you met Seokjin, your behaviour on nights out changed quite significantly. Matured. And after him? Well, people would be lucky to get a kiss from you, full-stop.

Your words are layered, though. It's so normal, kissing your friends.

He says nothing. Keeps his mouth shut. Tense. Looks at you as you turn away, and refuses to look elsewhere. Knows exactly what you meant.

What we do? It's normal. Nothing special. Don't get it twisted.

Spinning the bottle on the carpet, you're the one asking for trouble, now. Are committed to the bit. Want the thoughts of you kissing someone else in his head, purely cause you don't want the thoughts of Hayun in there instead.

It's a strange sensation that sears through your veins. One that you don't often feel; one that you hate. Makes you feel all green. Bitter.

You don't let it show. Instead, as the bottle slows to a stop, you're a bit giggly. It's the alcohol influencing your behaviour; thoughts not as clear as they usually are. Your intentions differ from the oncoming outcome. The dots of any hurt that could be caused don't join with the dots of your pre-existing sour emotions. The lines are wibbly wobbly.

Jeongguk knows that drinking is a big factor in your boldness, now. Also knows you've got total free will. You can do what you like. He won't stop you.

If anything, he should be proud of this. Of your willingness. Of the fact you'll kiss someone without a care in the world.

Yes, it's different to kissing someone in bed, but it's still a kiss. Still something he thinks you wouldn't have done this time last year. It's progress, albeit at the expense of the progression of whatever the fuck your relationship is these days.

He watches on with a stern gaze as the bottle finishes its final spin.

Directly across from you, it points to Nabi.

Poetic, almost, how you were concerned about Jeongguk's thoughts of Hayun kissing her.

She tilts her head a little, as if to ask, "Shall we?"

You repeat her motion, and remind the boys, "It's really not a big deal."

Jeongguk bites back a remark he could make about you, and kissing, and it being the biggest fuckin' deal he's ever known.

Yet he's silent as the rest of the group egg you and Nabi on. It's juvenile, how neither of you properly stand to cross the circle, but instead both lean forward, supporting yourselves with your hands and knees until you reach the centre.

He's thankful for one thing only, and it's the fact you're wearing a teeny tiny pair of shorts beneath your dress. Would have been catastrophic otherwise. Already kinda is.

There's a subtle curve to your spine. One that Jeongguk knows well. Doesn't notice if Nabi has a similar feline posture, for he's only focused on you.

And even as you and Nabi get far closer than you've ever been before, giggling like a pair of kids getting up to no good, it's the loose grip that Jeongguk has on your ankle that really has your attention.

It's a warning.

Have your fun, his touch tells you. But not too much fun.

You could pull your leg further forward. Could rid it of his grip.

But you don't. You stay shackled to him like a prisoner of crimes you're yet to commit.

There's no build-up, nor anticipation of the meeting of your lips with Nabi's. No trepidation. No nerves.

Admittedly, there's a slight hesitation. A couple of giggles. A little excitement, sure. She's gorgeous after all - the kind of girl anyone would be lucky to kiss. You've thought from the get-go that she's attractive, but have also never spent time with her when Jeongguk wasn't there, too.

No matter how pretty a face is, his will always be your favourite.

Even as she presses down into the kiss, lips gentle and plump, quite unlike Jeongguk's, it's the soft stroke of his thumb over your ankle that cracks through you like a volt of electricity.

Over as quickly as it started, you and Nabi both come away from the kiss with smiles, and coy looks upon your faces.

"See," you tell Taehyung, who is staring in disbelief, as you come to sit back beside Jeongguk. Are sad to lose his touch, but daren't look at him, because you don't want to know how he's feeling. What you just did was selfish, and you know it. "It's not a big deal."

Danbi nods. Takes the reins of the conversation. Agrees with you, but also caught the look on Jeongguk's face as it happened, and realises that maybe she should be careful about what she wishes for.

Decides that Spin the Bottle should remain a relic of cursed high school parties. Has no space at an event like this. Instead, she reaches for the deck of cards on the side table and gets to arranging them in a circle. Bottle still in the middle, she swaps it out for an empty glass.

Jeongguk gets to his feet. Is only going to grab another drink, but doesn't voice it to you. Doesn't voice it to anyone.

Danbi glances over to you - and unlike Jeongguk, she is good at being discreet. Tilts her sharply, subtly. Silently says, " Go ."

You relent for a moment, 'cause you know you're in trouble - but also know that's exactly why you need to follow him.

The lights are out in the kitchen, illuminated only by the lamps pouring in through the arch from the living room. The fridge is open, and Jeongguk is hidden by the door that he opens as soon as he notices you entering the room.

Really did just come for a drink, but also doesn't really wanna talk to you right now. Doesn't really understand the way he's feeling. It's not jealousy. That's one feeling he thinks he's got a good grasp on. It's something, though. Not nothing.

Coming to stand in the corner of the counters, you're also obscured from anyone entering the room. The fridge door acts as a shield.

And so Jeongguk closes it.

Turns to face you, but doesn't walk towards you. Is silent.

The shrouded darkness of the corner you've backed yourself into hides the way your heart is beating a mile a minute. The shadows obscure the look on Jeongguks face but you know him well enough now to know that his jaw is tense.

Shoulder silhouetted, you can see they are, too. Scatches as he finally asks, "Did you have your fun?"

You're silent.

He looks as if he's about to say something, and then just sighs.

Placing the bottle in his hand down on the counter, and there's a clatter that you assume is a bottle opener going with it. His sighs. Relaxes his shoulders.

Shakes his head. Considers for a second, then husks, "Fuck it."

The gap between you both is closed by Jeongguk, his hand cupping your jaw as he presses his liquor-laced lips down into yours. Has your body pressed close to his, then deepens the closeness and he does the same with the kiss. Pulls away, but only briefly. Only to give you a chance to stop it.

But you just pull him back. Needily get his lips on yours. Mirror his body language. Are desperate to feel his desire; begging for him to want you as much as your drunk mind wants him .

His kisses are rough. Aggressive. Assertive.

Until all very suddenly, they soften. The exhale of breath from his nose is warm on your cheek, both of you unable to properly regulate the oxygen you need. The issues had been fast and fleeting, but they'd been a force to be reckoned with. He rarely kisses you like that; without sweetness, or reservation.

He'd kissed you with purpose, and you damn well know it.

Is still holding your jaw as he leans his forehead against yours, noses nudging ever so gently.

"You gotta stop kissing my fuckin' friends, B," he says. " Our friends. You gotta stop."

It's not like you make a habit of it. You've kissed Jimin, like, once - but you know exactly what he means. Say nothing. Just nod. Let him kiss you again. Tenderly, now.

He's slow as he withdraws. Keeps you trapped between his body and the cabinets as he reaches behind you for an empty glass. Remains in position as he twists his upper body to swing the fridge door open, and grabs the filtered water jug.

The light around him from the fridge casts a halo, befitting of a man such as him. Heaven-sent, is Jeon Jeongguk, and you've been blessed to have known him during your time on this earth. You might not get so lucky in your next life. Need to stop taking it for granted.

It's funny, 'cause he's thinking the exact same thing about you.

The refrigerator light gets you sparkling. Puts all those stars back in your eyes. Ones he needs to stop stealing, 'cause you deserve to be as shiny as you possibly can be.

He comes around you like a magpie, and takes your shine, he thinks.

Doesn't realise you've been glowing ever since you met him because of him.

You were dull, before. The glitter was only ever a facade.

Yet it's permanent now - or a least it will be, until your star lover decides chasing a shooting star is a losing game.

"Here," he says as he passes you the water. "You're fucked."

You take a sip, then pass it back and say, "Here. You're fucked."

This does at least make him smile. Alleviates some of the discomfort that had temporarily brewed between you both. He nods. "Yeah. I am."

Pulling himself away, he holds his hand behind himself for you to take. Doesn't wanna fight with you. Just wants you two to be good. Doesn't care for dumb, petty fights. Knows that deep down, you don't either.

"C'mon," he hums quietly, as your fingers lace between his. "Let's go back."

He deliberately leaves the drink he was getting behind on the counter. Has had enough tonight. Doesn't tell you as such, but is pleased that you seem content sipping your water instead of reaching for more drinks during the next game. Just giggle along with whatever is happening, the mood between you both far easier than it had been a few moments previously.

Communication, it would seem, is key. Jeongguk appreciates the fact that you sought him out, even if you didn't really say anything. Knows that it was a way for you to let your defences down, something of which he isn't sure you'd have done a few months ago.

Then again, he's also not sure he'd have felt so irrationally jealous a few months ago, either.

But you're learning. Both of you are. Rome wasn't built in a day, and Jeongguk's just glad you're getting your hands dirty with the rubble and bricks of your relationship traumas, too. Are rebuilding yourself, and in turn, something new. Somewhere he thinks could make for a lovely home, one day.

One by one, back in the living room, yawns spread contagiously. It's Hoseok first, then Namjoon. Across the circle, Jeongguk follows suit. When you begin to yawn, he strokes your back.

"Bed?" he asks quietly, to which you nod.

He nods back. "I'll go get some water to take back to the house. Want any snacks?"

You shake your head, unable to verbalise a response thanks to the yawn taking hold of you. Dawn will be breaking soon, you're sure. Yoongi and Seoyeon went to bed hours ago. All you need is a really good sleep.

As the four of you meander back up to your house, Nabi and Jimin nattering, while Jeongguk hangs back a little bit, you find yourself distracted.

Arms crossed, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and his lips on yours in the kitchen, and how unbelievably reckless it was. Anyone could have walked in.

But perhaps that would have been okay.

Turning to check he's still walking towards the house, a smile settles on your face where a frown once was. Phone held up to the sky, Jeongguk is taking pictures of the moon. Zooming in as far as he can, and getting frustrated every time his still-drunk hands wobble a little too much.

"Tomorrow," you call over softly - and like a dog hearing a whistle, he doesn't hesitate to walk your way. "We can go star-gazing. Get pictures."

He nods. Comes to stand by you. Carries on walking, taking your hand as he does so. Sounds sleepy as he mumbles, "M'kay."

By the time you arrive back at the house a few minutes later, Jimin and Nabi are still nattering in the communal area. With your rooms being on different floors, and both of you desperately fighting alcohol-induced yawns, neither you nor Jeongguk can be bothered with the hassle of sharing a bed tonight.

You retire to separate rooms, and both hate it.

There's an emptiness, you think. One that only he can fill. The room is dark, but a little light sneaks in from the harbour, and the lamps that remain lit all night to keep boats away.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, it's your glitter that acts like harbour lights, you think. A warning to never get too close.

Jeongguk did it anyway.

Thoughts like these plague your mind as you toss and turn, failing to get comfy. There are enough pillows. The duvet is perfectly nice. The mattress is fine. There's just something missing.

Someone .

But fuck- you don't need him. Depending on a man is something you never want to do, especially not for something as simple as falling asleep.

Even though you're trying to rid your brain of his presence, you find yourself thanking him as you hop out of bed and head to your suitcase. If there's one thing that will exhaust you, it's a good orgasm.

Given how sleepy his eyes were prior to you saying your farewells, all puffy and a little bloodshot, you don't imagine he'll hear a peep - and if he does, it'll likely just become a strange addition to whatever bizarre dream he'll no doubt tell you he had in the morning.

Rummaging around a little, you look for that one final thing he ensured you added to the suitcase. Find some lingerie first that you definitely didn't add to the pile - the same ones you packed for Busan just to get a rise out of him - and scoff. Presumptuous mother fucker .

Eventually, you find your rabbit. A dildo-vibrator hybrid, it works wonders. The translucent black silicone is always a little cold to touch - never like the real thing - but it fills a hole, for lack of a better term. Does the job. Does things a cock can't do - but it can never make you feel like he does.

The house is quiet, now. Nabi and Jimin retired to their own beds a good quarter of an hour ago. You know that Jimin will be out like a light, and Nabi is the furthest room from yours. The only worry you have is Jeongguk beneath you - but so what? Nothing he hasn't heard before.

Still, you only dare turn the vibrator on to the lowest mode.

Wearing just your panties, Jeongguk's shirt that you'd stolen now discarded on the floor, you run the toy over your clothed cunt. Let the sensation overcome any other physical manifestation of your feelings.

It hums ever so quietly, a hushed moan trapped in your throat as you work your hips up into the vibration. Other-wordly in how it makes you feel, there's no point trying to keep dignified.

Ridding yourself of your panties, you lie on your back, legs spread. Tease your entrance with the head of the cock-shaped dildo. Sharply inhale as you press against your hole - but you're not ready, yet.

The feeling isn't enough.

You need thoughts too.

Thoughts of him. Of his body. Of the way he smiles whenever he sees you like this. How he'd tower over you. Line himself up. Press kisses to your lips. Down your throat. On your chest. How he'd take your nipples in his mouth, and suck them for hours if he could. How he'd tell you he's still an ass guy, even if sucking on your tits gets him so hard he could cum in 5 seconds flat whenever he does it.

Your dildo now sinks into your cunt with little resistance, the thoughts of Jeongguk seemingly enough to get you ready.

There's a slight burn. Friction. Evidence that you're not totally there yet. The alcohol has definitely affected it. Funny, how it never affects it when you're with Jeongguk. Have fucked him countless times after a few drinks with no issues.

No reason to have them now. The only difference is him.

It frustrates you.

You don't need a man. You don't .

Groaning, you rid yourself of your toy. Flick the switch to make sure it's off. Toss it down beside you and let it land with a thud on the mattress. Stare up at the ceiling and curse.

Reaching over for your phone, you're about to google methods of getting to sleep when you're both horny and unable to get yourself off, when a message pings through.

You wince before you even read it - and when you do read it? Well, you think you'd quite like to simply die.

JK: Round two?

Admittedly, it's better receiving it from him than it would from Jimin - but it's still mortifying to know that he could hear it.

You must still be drunk. It's the only thing that justifies such reckless abandon for your grace.

And it's also the excuse you'll use for the fact you send him back a message that simply says: My door is open.

Not even a minute later, Jeongguk says nothing as he enters your room. He's in his underwear and a shirt, but as soon as he shuts the door, he grabs the material by the nape of his neck, and rids himself of it. Is just in his Calvins, now. Just how you like him.

It's not like you greet him either, a blanket pulled up to cover your dignity, but you're both aware there's a heaviness to the air between you. Something unspoken. Something that will remain unsaid, because you're both scared to lose the weight of your own feelings.

Instead, he just grips the back of the chair by the vanity unit and turns it around. Sits. Is arrogant in how he looks at you, just like he was that night you got far too acquainted with his pull-up bar and favourite tie.

In his hand is something you can't quite make out.

Something about his gaze, and how it holds your own, makes it hard for you to speak. You fear you'll say the wrong thing. Fear he'll look away. Turns out, just as he suspects, you do have new fears - and they all pertain to him, or moreso a lack of him.

You play it safe. Nod towards his hand. Whisper, "Watcha got?"

"You said we shouldn't fuck," he reminds you with an arrogant smirk. Knows that this will drive you fuckin' insane. "Thought I should come prepared."

It's only when he holds it up that you realise he's holding a fucking fleshlight . Clear. Silicone.

"Holy shit," you breathe out. Have never actually seen one in the flesh - no pun intended - let alone see a man bold enough to use one in front of you.

"Remember how we used to watch each other get off?" he asks, unashamed - or just drunk. Doesn't wait for a reply. Just says, "Let's do that."

The way he's so convicted in his wants and desires - how he knows the parameters of your arrangement, yet bends the rules to fit his fucking whims - will never fail to amaze you. He's determined to get you coming undone, and that in and of itself is so unbelievably hot.

His body is hard to make out from the low lighting, but the ridges of his toned chest have you salivating. There's a sheen to his fingers - lube, you assume for the toy - and it spreads over his abdomen as he softly traces his fingertips over his body. Lightly touches himself. His small, hard nipples. Rasps a little.

Arousal, for him, isn't just simply his cock getting hard. He likes to engage his senses. S'why he likes fucking you so much. You're a treat for all five of 'em.

You're too far away to touch. To taste. To smell - and oh god, that's the one that gets him the most. Just wants to bury the tip of his prettily pointed nose in your hair, down the valley of your breasts, in your cunt. Pheremones are a wonderful thing, and the effect they have on Jeongguk can only be likened to a Class A substance. Pupils dilated, body and mind disconnected, he needs the high you give.

For now, he settles on sight and sound. Smirks when you gasp at the sight of what he's doing.

Eyes fixated on him, you watch on as Jeongguk grips the fleshlight and pushes it down ever so gently. He barely penetrates it. Just the tip. Grunts a little. Pulls it back up, so that the crown of his cock is kissing the entrance.

God, how you wish it was you. Want to feel that first intrusion of his cock inside you. How big he is; how well he always stretches you out. So intensely focused on him, you don't even really realise how you're toying with your chest.

Despite the shrouded darkness of the room, enough light is funnelling in through the curtains for you to clearly see his movements; his expressions.

Jaw slack, Jeongguk doesn't give a fuck about looking dignified. He knows there's no point. Doesn't want to pretend like you don't arouse him beyond the point of sane thoughts.

He thinks the same could be said for you.

"C'mon, B," he begs quietly. "Get yourself off for me."

His breathy moan as he pushes further into the toy only encourages you to do the same. Matching his desperately soft moans, you sink your rabbit inside yourself, and find any earlier resistance is gone. You don't need a man, but fuck . Jeon Jeongguk is an exception to the rule.

Filling yourself, it's nothing like the sensation that comes with Jeongguk - the warmth of his skin, the scent of his aftershave, the weight of his body on top of yours - but it is unlike anything else you've ever known as he looks across to you.

There's a smirk breaking on his lustful expression, sinful satisfaction that has you moaning as you penetrate yourself with the toy that he insisted you bring. Not much introspection is given to how you're pleasuring yourself; too focused on the way he's pleasuring himself.

Knees closing together, toes digging into the sheets, your hand is trapped between your thighs. It's a more natural state of being, you find. Gets your walls a little tighter. Feels better, even if it doesn't look as good. Whining a little as you build a pace, you're so wet that you can hear the way you're fucking yourself - and so can Jeongguk.

The lewd sounds of his cock fucking into the toy he's using slow a little. His laboured breaths become controlled. He's easing off the gas - not hitting the break, but definitely doing something.

"Since when have you been shy?" He teases you a little breathlessly. Holds the fleshlight to the base of his cock. Fills it. Keeps himself warm, laboured grunts catching in his throat as he stops himself from reaching the point of release. "Wider, baby," he pleads. "Nice and wide for me."

Pulling your knees apart, you display yourself like a fuckin' exhibition, and Jeongguk knows that you've art for him, indefinitely. Nights at galleries are pale in comparison to the way you put yourself on display for him.

How could he ever appreciate a painting unless it's the same pretty colours of your needy cunt? If the brush strokes don't match the hair that falls over your eyes as your lips part, soft moans escaping them? Music, too, for that matter is ruined for him. You sound better than anything he's ever heard on the radio.

"There you go," he husks as he begins to work the fleshlight up his shaft again. Watches you with no intent of ever looking away. He's fixed to you like glue. "That's it. Fuck. Yeah. That's it."

But you won't be content until he really is stuck to you like glue. Want him so close it's impossible to tell when he ends and you begin; impossible to comprehend how you ever could part.

He's not the only one with demands. Desires. You want him just as much as he wants you.

"Come closer," you say quietly.

"Yeah?" he teases. "Say please, baby."

"Fuck you."

He laughs, now. Finds something about your insatiable need to have him near, and your inability to play nicely at times, just so endearing.

"Cute," he smirks. Knows it'll probably irritate you. Patronises a little more, 'cause he's vying for you to have a reason to shut him up. Thinks maybe you'll choose kisses as a way to shush him. Hopes you will. "Needy, aren't you? Pretty, needy baby."

"Shut up," you laugh, the smile on your lips a product of his compliments, even if he is being a little bitch. Holding your hand out, you encourage him to join you on the bed. Give him what he wants, 'cause you know it'll give you what you want. " Please ."

You don't take your eyes off him as he stands, cock still snug in the toy that he'd really rather swap with your hands. Makes him a little shy.

"Stop looking at me, perv," Jeongguk says in a childish way that really doesn't fit the profile of a man like him - built like a god - as he's pleasuring himself for you for your satisfaction.

"Why?" you ask, pleased and purry now that the ball is in your court. "A little shy, there?"

"Fuck you," he smirks, coming to sit between your legs.

Your illicit thoughts of Jeongguk are always so much tamer than he actually is. You never know what's actually gonna come out of his mouth, and it makes fucking him so much more fun to indulge in.

It's not like he means to be vulgar. His brain is just too distracted by how fucking good this shit feels. His lips get loose and so does the concept of dignity. Has him mumbling all kinds of shit.

"God, I'll fuckin' die if you don't let me fuck you," he whines, one of his hands stroking up your thigh while the other wanks the toy up and down his thick cock. He's slow in his movements, wrist flicking gently, not wanting to himself up too much. Wants you to get there first.

Shaking your head, you knead one of your tits for his viewing pleasure as you continue to fuck yourself with the toy he insisted you bring.

"Told me to bring this for a reason, Gguk," you remind him. "No fucking."

"But you're so fucking wet," he moans. Wants to touch you. Know he can't.

You nod - then decide to cut him a little slack. Reach for the hand of his on your thigh. Bring it to the base of the rabbit, and let him take the reins.

"Fuck," he curses, as he pushes it up into you. Holds it in place. Flicks the switch that makes the little rabbit ears vibrate. Angles it just right so that they're fluttering against your swollen clit, the pleasure incomparable to anything else.

"Oh, shit," you whine as your body begins to writhe.

"You like this so much, don't you?" He confirms, and is pleased when you whine and nod your head. He pulls the toy back slightly, but angles it so that ears stay pressed against you before he fills you again. The lewd sound of it filling you is enough to drive anyone insane, he thinks.

"Pretty cunt," he says fondly, then leans forward a little. Gathers spit in his mouth, then slowly lets it drip onto your pussy. He knows you well. Has it landing just north of your clit. Grinds the ears up a little, and spreads it across your already messy pussy. "Pretty girl."

Gently fucking the dildo into you, Jeongguk can't help but feel a little jealous. He wants to know how you feel. How warm you are. How tight you'll get when you cum.

Instead, all he can do is watch as pleasure takes hold. You whine his name - "Yeah, baby?" - and push your head back into the pillows. Toes pointing, your legs begin to shake, and Jeongguk knows better than to change anything about what he's doing. Keeps the speed. Lets the ears flick against the clit that he so badly wants in his mouth.

"That's it," he keens. "All over this cock. Cum all over it."

Oh, how you wish it was his instead.

Because even though you do come, it doesn't satisfy you fully. Not how his cock does. Still amazing - but Jeongguk has ruined you. Is the only thing capable of making you cum how you deserve to cum. His cock, his mouth, his hands - doesn't matter what. Just matters that it's him.

Tapping his wrist as you shake a little, you tell him you're good. In all honesty, all you want now is to make him feel good.

Shutting off the vibrations, Jeongguk keeps you plugged. Is scared that you'll both let your stupid desires get the better of you, otherwise.

You're thinking the exact same thing - so reach down for his fleshlight. Want him to feel as good as you he made you feel.

Holding it flush against the mound of your pussy, you'll give him the next best thing to fucking you. A little simulation, almost. Basically the exact same.

Except it's not, 'cause Jeongguk is far too aware of the fact that he doesn't get the luxury of your cunt.

"Fuck it," you instruct him. "Fuck it like you fuck me."

There's something erotic about the way Jeongguk lines himself up with it at your request. Zero hesitation. Wanks himself, once, twice. Presses his tip against the tight entrance, and looks at you as he pushes into it. Grunts. Fills it. Begins to thrust a little. Picks a rhythm. Finds the position is perfect for letting his balls slap against your swollen clit, and is obsessed with the way you whine for him.

With you holding his toy in place, his hands are free - so they snake around your thighs and pull you closer with every thrust of his hips, as if he really is fucking you.

"Is it good?"

"Yeah. It's fuckin' good," he nods, leaning forward, resting an elbow on either side of your head as he continues to pump into the toy. "You're better, but it's good."

There's a simplicity to the way Jeongguk describes how he feels. It's straightforward. Honest.

"Pretend it's me," you encourage. "Is it tight? Wet?"

He nods. Practically filled the thing with lube before he ventured up to your room.

"Real fuckin' tight. You're wetter, though. I miss that. Fuck . Just once, baby. Once ," he begs, forgetting the fact that he very much knows fucking you is a bad idea. Presses wet, insatiable kisses to the underside of your jaw. Can barely string his words together. "Let me - fuck - feel you. Please ."

Funny, how his fear of rejection doesn't seem to exist when he's a few strokes away from an orgasm.

Or maybe it just doesn't exist around you. Either or. At the moment, they're one and the same.

Shaking your head, you pull him in for a soft meeting of your lips, his tongue sinking into your mouth, because he needs to be inside you in at least some capacity if he can't have your pussy. Hips thrashing in a bid to chase his high, Jeongguk knows you're not gonna give him what he wants. Knows that this is the closest he'll get.

Plausible deniability when your friends - or moreso just Jimin - ask, did you fuck?

Well, no, you'll be able to say, without lying. We didn't.

But as your body is moved in tandem with the timing of his thrusts, Jeongguk's grunts vibrate into your mouth as his body begins to tense, you know that you can't really describe this as anything other than fucking.

"Cum," you tell him - and then realise you still want it to be you he cums over. Cums for. Cums because of.

But Jeongguk takes that permission and runs with it before you can make any further bad decisions. Whimpers as he lets the walls that have been keeping him restrained come crashing down. His teeth find your neck as he grunts against your skin; his breath hot, the cum he's unloading in the silicone fuck toy even more so.

"That's it," you encourage, legs wrapping around his stuttering hips. "Fill that cunt for me, baby. Fill it up like it's mine."

He nods, his laboured breaths lost in your hair as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, as the final few spurts of his desire pump into the toy. The weight of his body is heavy on top of you, rising and falling with every contraction of his lungs.

Stroking his hair, you press a kiss to the top of his hair, and let out a soft giggle. It's too soon for post-nut clarity, and yet Jeongguk already doesn't wanna look you in the eyes after nutting in a fucking fleshlight.

Figuring as much, you make sure to praise him in the same way he usually does for you. "So hot, Gguk. So good. So cute ."

He smiles, now. Laughs a little, body spent. Grumbles into your neck. "Fuck off, B."

"What?" you tease, knowing that he's embarrassed. He needn't be. It's just a sex toy. He's the one who brought it along with him - surely he didn't think you'd have enough willpower to resist him over the weekend? Surely he had been anticipating this? "It's yours . We both know you've fucked it, like, a hundred times."

"Fuck offffff," he moans again, rolling off of you, the fleshlight slipping somewhere between you both now that no one is keeping it held in place. "That never happened."

Turning onto your front, you scoff. Reach down the bed to find the offending object. You want it for a reason - mainly 'cause you've never seen them up close, and are curious about how much it actually looks like a pussy, but also 'cause you have an idea that will make Jeongguk equal parts needy and disgusted, which honestly is what you're aiming for. You like it when he's conflicted over his desire. Makes his self-denial and subsequent weaknesses so much hotter.

"Put it down," he whines, as you bring it to the pillows. His forearm is covering his eyes, a pretty smile on his darling lips, piercing catching in the jetty lights that are intruding on your privacy.

You don't do what he tells you to do. Instead, you rest on your elbows, tits cushioning your body as you inspect it a little.

"Huh," you hum in surprise. Admittedly, it's not too far off. The silicone tube is clear, with ridges and grooves in the central canal for his pleasure, but the entrance is particularly inspired. Despite the clarity of the material, the shape isn't too far off from your own, especially when it's all pretty and puffy and aroused for him. There's a sheen to it; evidence of Jeongguk's lube, as a trail of his white cum leaks from the entrance.

Glancing over to him, you find his eyes on you. A little further up in the bed, he's looking down, and yet you're in the position of power. Whatever you do will only serve to make him want you more.

He doesn't tell you to put it down again. Just waits, breathlessly, to see what you'll do. Already has an idea. Knows what he wants to see, but won't ask for it 'cause it feels almost too vulgar.

But you know him well. Knows what gets him off. Know that even despite the fact he's just finished, there are ways to get him hard again - and as your tongue slowly flicks against the desecrated entrance, you know that this is one of them.

"Fuck," he husks quietly, not even meaning to do so. Lets one of his hands reach over to squeeze at the flesh of your ass as you get a little deeper with your exploration. Lick into it. Collect his cum on your tongue.

It's been a while since you've eaten pussy, too busy with Jeongguk to seek anyone else out, but it's like riding a bike. You never forget - and truth be told, you're not really doing anything that requires too much thought. You're putting on a show. Eating his cum, 'cause he deserves it.

His grip on your ass is hard, as he grunts, "You're fucking filth, b. So dirty ."

You giggle, pleased with the effect it's having on him - but then he's pulling you across to straddle his lap, toy discarded on your side of the bed as man handles you into position on top of his body.

Jeongguk pulls you in for a meeting of lips, teeth, tongue; all-consuming. Doesn't care to be neat. Doesn't care to be sweet. Wants to taste himself on your tongue - and when he does? Oh, he's celestial .

He moans. Curses. Accepts it when you hold his jaw, and encourage him to open his mouth. Nods as your lips purse. Lets his tongue flatten. Whines as you spit his cum onto his tongue - then decides you've had enough time in the driver's seat. Sinks his tongue back into your mouth; swaps his cum with you until it sort of just becomes obsolete.

He's not gonna fuck you, but he does get you positioned on top of his cock, pussy spread over his thick length as he ruts up against you. One hand on your hips, the other clasps your hands behind your back. Looks you dead in the eye as you whine for him.

Husks, "You're only in control when I let you be in control."

And then to prove his point, he gets you grinding against him until the point of another climax. Gets your body shaking as your pussy rubs over the top of his cock, without it ever penetrating you. The sensation is euphoric; skin on skin, just how you like it.

"That's it," he praises as your orgasm washes over you. Holds you as you come down a little breathlessly. Teases. "So cute. You love to cum for me, don't you, B?"

It's your turn to tell him to fuck off, now.

Rolling off him, both toys fall from your side of the bed and onto the floor with a soft thud. Neither of you cares for the noise. Jimin is out like a light, and Nabi is too far away to have really heard anything.

Breathlessly, you both look up at the ceiling. Jeongguk swears he can see stars - but it might just be the hangover that's already kicking in.

As he holds his hand out, you laugh. Give him a high five. "Nice work."

But you both agree that it never happened. Snuggle up, and adamantly stand by the fact you never fucked. That technicality is still true. You also didn't both become all weak and needy for each other in the most pathetic of ways - or so you tell yourselves.

"We're super drunk," Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, as if you aren't both totally sober after that. Hugs you close to him, your back pressed to his chest. Doesn't even consider return to his room. He's home, now. Would make no sense to leave. "Won't even remember it in the morning."

And the way that you behave together come sunlight, without a care in the world, laughing and joking, both together and at each other's expense, it would seem like things are totally normal.

You're able to separate who you are after dark and the people you are during the sunlight hours. Can look at him, without feeling the need to jump his bones (although when you see him cooking breakfast, your eyes do linger for a little too long on the veins in his arms as he flicks the pan).

None of your friends are aware of your illicit affairs; how Jeongguk worships your body like a devout follower of a religion only he knows.

None of them... and also all of them.

They all see the way he looks at you first when he makes a joke to check that you're laughing. They're all aware of the way you ask him what he's gonna be wearing that morning when deciding what you're also gonna wear. Small, inconsequential encounters that are exclusive between the pair of you, never to be shared with anyone else.

Well, almost no one.

"Is it just me, or did you-" Nabi begins, eyes on the pair of you as she neatens up the sitting room with Jimin, but is almost instantly interrupted.

"Yep."

"Last ni-"

"Yep."

"They-"

"Yep."

Turning up her nose, she shudders a little. "Gross."

"Yep," Jimin nods. Thought he'd escaped ever hearing you and Jeongguk at it, but woke up needing water in the night. Ended up needing a punch to the face five minutes later when he realised the squeak of the floorboards wasn't from him walking around, but from your bedroom instead. Heard things in the minutes that followed that'll his nightmares forever .

"Are they, like... a thing?" she tries to clarify, but Jimin knows no more than anyone else.

"No one knows. Don't even think they know."

Which is true.

But you're currently looking at Jeongguk's big brown Bambi eyes while he explains the rules of boxing to you out on the front lawn. He wraps up your hands to 'train' you, and you giggle as he jokes with you about how you'll be a champ in no time, a stupidly love-drunk smile on your lips.

Quite unexpectedly - though not really at all, when you think about it - you realise you know .

You know, you know, you know.

How you feel; how much you really do like him; how you want things to be.

You just know.

Simply, and completely; Jeongguk can never be just a friend. Not now. Not anymore.

And it terrifies you.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Fic Request: Kid Philip is sick from the mold, so Caleb, Evelyn and her parents are taking care of him. Maybe add a moment of Kid Philip not wanting to take the medicine.

Common Mold Medicine

Summary: Kid Philip won't take his common mold medicine unless...

Ao3 version

Thank you for the help, @talisman975!

Enjoy!

"Little sips, Philip," Mrs. Clawthorne gently instructed the unwell boy as the mother held a straw to his lips.

He was currently dealing with a case of common mold while laying down on the guest room bed inside the Clawthorne household.

After sipping his water, he murmured a soft thank you when Mr. Clawthorne wiped his chin with the corner of his blanket.

After slipping a bowl of pre-cut flesh and blood fruit into Philip's hands, which the sugars in the sweet, exotic fruit would help his human immune system out, Evelyn changed the damp washcloth on his forehead.

Philip closed his eyes and snuggled into his blanket once his brother finished fluffing his pillow, and he felt the elder's hand gently pat his head.

"Don't worry, Philip," Caleb whispered with the softest of reassurance.

"I know things seem to be unpleasant now, but you're going to be okay. This illness is something you can overcome."

Everyone was making every effort to lower Philip's fever.

...

Philip turned his head away from the spoonful of cloudy brown-colored medicine being held to his lips.

"I don't want to take it," a stubborn and stuffy-nosed Philip pouted as he crossed his arms in defiance.

"It smells icky," he huffed.

"But, Philip, it's crucial that you take this," Mr. Clawthorne said calmly and carefully as he pulled the spoon back, not wanting to rile up the brunette.

"It will aid in your recovery," Mrs. Clawthorne tried to persuade with a sweet smile.

However, Philip frowned and shook his head.

"Caleb...," Evelyn whispered as she and her parents looked to the blonde in hopes that he could convince Philip to take his medicine.

"Oh, Philip, won't you please take your medicine?" Caleb asked with a small smile as he took a seat on the side of the bed, his tone lively.

At first, Philip wouldn't budge, but then Caleb proceeded to bring out the overly pleading puppy dog eyes.

"Pleaaaase? For me? For your big brwother?" he implored in a sticky-sweet voice, his eyes big and full of sparkles.

After some silence, Philip finally sighed.

"... Fine," he agreed with another huff, frowning about the fact that he had given in so easily as Caleb and the Clawthornes released breaths of relief and smiled at each other.

"But," he continued, developing a giant smirk on his face as he was about to make a deal, pointing a finger at everyone.

"You all have to take it with me."

Those certainly weren't words that Caleb, Evelyn, and Mr. and Mrs. Clawthorne were expecting to hear.

"But, Philip, we're not sick," Mr. Clawthorne gently stated with a tender yet visibly nervous smile, which only made Philip return to crossing his arms.

"I won't take that medicine unless everyone else takes it with me!" he declares assertively and adorably, causing everyone to sigh.

It looks like they didn't have a choice.

...

"... Mmm!" Philip hummed in delight as he sucked up and swallowed all of his medicine, removing his spoon from his mouth.

"Wow, that actually tasted really good!"

The medicine possessed both a sharp burst of tartness and a sweet, apple-like flavor.

"More, please!" Philip politely requested as he held his spoon out, smiling an innocent, closed-eyed smile at everyone with cheery, flushed cheeks.

Meanwhile, Caleb and the Clawthornes had extremely exaggerated puckered faces as a result of taking the medicine while healthy.

They appeared as though they had all sucked on the sourest lemon ever for a considerable amount of time.

[lostelfwriting]

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns (Prologue)

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Death & Dream, Dream & Hob, Dream/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Jessamy, Matthew, Corinthian, Lucienne

Additional Tags: NO Major Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Terminal Illnesses, Thoughts about death and dying, Decaying Health, Refusing Treatment, Strong Language, Unrequited Love, Enemies to ?, Past Minor Characters Death(s), Protective Death of the Endless, Doctor Human!Death of the Endless, Alternate Universe - Human, Tattoo Artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Flower Shop Owner Hob Gadling, Blood, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 32k

I'm posting the whole work here on the 1st of March, but I strongly reccommend you read it on AO3, where I will be posting one chapter per day. Either way, click Read More or go to AO3 to read the Prologue!

Written for the event @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang. With beautiful art by @five-and-dimes!

It is a slow day at the studio, so while he is waiting for his next appointment, Dream is – like he does almost all of his free time – sketching new tattoo designs to add to his portfolio and listening to music loud enough to completely shut out his own thoughts. He is sketching a snake, having no doubt that it will catch someone’s eye. There is always someone who wants a tattoo of a snake. He pauses to look at his progress and ends up snorting in disbelief.

The drawing is truly a snake, but the reptile is weaving among the stems of flowers instead of a dead branch like Dream had intended. And they are ugly flowers at that. He is pretty sure that he gave a pot of those flowers to his secondary school teacher, who always called him Murphy, even though he hated that nickname. He can’t resist snapping a picture of the flowers with his phone and trying to look up what they are, but once he finds the name – cyclamen – he refuses to look up their meaning. It would surely be something stupid, like forbidden love, or maybe hopelessness.

Even the snake’s scales seem to actually be made of flower petals, and Dream rolls his eyes as he flips the page of his sketchbook. The downside to trying to tune his mind out is that he doesn’t notice when his subconsciousness begins to interfere with his process, and it has led to many flowery paintings in the past months. With a sigh, he starts copying the usable parts of the design onto another page until an insistent thought makes him pause mid-movement.

Just a few weeks ago, he would have been furious if this had happened. He used to tear those ruined sketches to pieces and then go outside into the late winter chill and glare at every passing person who dared to look his way. He wished they all felt as bad as he did, and most of all, his neighbour with his shop opposite Dream’s studio, with its bright, flowery logo.

Today’s drawing incident feels like just a small inconvenience. He feels zero anger, though he might still opt to destroy the sketch later, just for the miniscule satisfaction that the action will bring him. Or maybe he will keep it. Pin it to the wall next to his bed and look at it every night. He will look at the ugly flowers and realise with wry amusement and aching hollowness that he has finally accepted his fate.

He, Morpheus Endeles, is going to die.

He thinks about it and waits for anger or grief to appear, but they don’t. Good. He was getting sick of the self-pity. It has been months since he noticed the first symptom – the occasional cough – as something seemed to tickle his throat, easily blamed on a bit of dust. And then, a bit later, when he lay awake late at night and everything around him was quiet, he heard the soft rustle of leaves as he breathed. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that he had the Hanahaki Disease. He tears the ruined sketch out and shreds it into tiny pieces, enjoying the bit of satisfaction that it brings him. Maybe he is still harbouring some badly suppressed anger. He doesn’t need a fortune teller to tell him that he has no chance of getting affection from the person he hopelessly loves. Because it is his neighbour, the owner of The White Rose, Robert Gadling, a straight man who rightfully dislikes Dream.

+*+*+*+*+

Cyclamen: resignation and good-bye

[puddle-nerd]

Healing Warmth

Summary: When you’re sick, Spider makes a great cuddle buddy.

Prompt #10 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Human Reader, Established Relationship, Sick Reader, Spider loves cuddles, Spider radiates heat, Change my mind

Author’s Note: A long time ago, my first ex did this while I was sick, and I felt so loved despite being a sick mess at the time that I wanted to share this with you all. Also, remember, Spider is a sixteen-year-old boy who doesn’t know the healing arts of the Omatikaya so he’s trying his best.

AO3 Link

“I’m fine,” you protested vehemently for the fifth time in thirteen minutes and twenty seconds before a round of violent coughing stormed malevolently up from your lungs and sliced your throat from the inside to add insult to injury. You doubled over beneath your many blankets, curling in on yourself as you choked and gasped and coughed some more until your body was trembling and you felt weak to the point of wanting to pass out. You refused to meet Spider’s knowing dark chocolate gaze and huffed weakly as you slowly slumped back onto your bed. Unfortunately, this – your terrible illness, what usually went by the term ‘head cold’ around the human encampment, which was stupid because you felt it throughout your whole body and not just in your head – was expected because you always without fail got sick annually for, like, two and a half to maybe three weeks when the weather of the Omatikayan forests turned cooler. And you’d already been feeling under the weather for at least a week, though this was the worst of it, so far.

It wasn’t fair.

Spider hardly ever got sick. Not even when he spent time around you while your fever was high, and you felt like you were dying. And even when good ol’ Norm tried to cheer you up at your bedside by explaining that Spider had different chromosomes and genetic makeup that was a little more effective against human ailments than you did, you would just groan and toss a pillow at your adoptive uncle. Good naturedly, of course because the tall human male was a nerd, but you loved him dearly anyway.

“Wanna try that again, my silly little girl?” Spider smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and raising a brow at you.

You flipped him off, your arm trembling when you raised it in his direction.

Spider just laughed, knowing you didn’t actually mean it and uncrossed his arms, coming towards you and crawling up onto your bed until he could flop beside you on top of all of the covers. You groaned at the sudden weight pressing against your over sensitive body but twisted onto your side, anyway, allowing the tall boy to curl up behind you. Your body soaked up the heat radiating off of him like a sponge and it did make you feel better… a little. Of course, that could have also been wishful thinking, too, wanting to spend the day with the boy you cared for deeply, even if you were ill. Still, you knew he had plans today, like most days, and you decided to remind him, just in case he had forgotten. That’s what a good girlfriend did, right?

“You’re gonna be late… Lo’ak’s gonna come looking for you soon if you don’t go meet up with him soon,” you murmured to Spider over your shoulder, “and he’s gonna be upset if you cancel.”

The younger Sully son hated when you took Spider’s attention away from him, but you weren’t sure if it was because Lo’ak didn’t have many friends or because of something else…?

You suddenly started to cough again, though not as violently as before, thank Eywa, and curled in tighter on yourself, your lungs temporarily itching deep within your chest cavity with each ounce of air tickling their insides. Spider, unable to do much, hugged you through the blankets and rubbed at your back before reaching over onto your nightstand and handing you your water bottle. He helped you take a sip, encouraging you to continue to suck up the liquid until you moaned in protest. Carefully, he put your water bottle back and eased your body back down onto the mattress, cuddling up into you once again.

“Lo’ak can survive without me for one day,” Spider muttered. “You might perish this time and I refuse to let my girl die on me.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. And really, you actually did love cuddling with him, whenever you could. Your bedroom door opened and – instead of the blue skinned teenager you were expecting – your mother carefully strolled into the dim room with a small medication bottle and a steaming cup of tea, not even blinking when she noticed the sixteen-year-old boy at your back. “Drink this and take these,” she said before looking at Spider, who helped you sit up once more. The older woman commanded him, “Make sure she drinks lots of water whenever she's awake, please. Whenever he comes around, I’ll tell the Sully boy you’re occupied today.” The blonde teen nodded his head, replying, “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” Your mother smiled and took the empty cup from you, adding, “Try to get some sleep – both of you. Sleep will help you heal faster, baby girl.” “Thanks, Mom,” you nodded, and your boyfriend helped you lay down again. “Thanks, Spider,” you whispered as your mother closed the door about 50% of the way. You pulled his arm around your middle and intertwined your fingers together, adding “For taking care of me.” Instead of answering, he hummed and kissed the hinge of your jaw, snuggling closer to you with a soft sight, holding you tight and secure. With his heat seeping into you, and his arm around you, you drifted off as the medication attempted to get your body back to normal, feeling safe and well loved.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 10 February 2024 Word Count: 900

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee, @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

[indelicateink]

fellow friends deviants and aficionados, there is an Interview with the Vampire anonymous kink meme!

one million million thank yous to @vampire-dove for hosting this anon kink meme for us.

i'm going to share some of the prompts going on over there. please go add more. please fill prompts. PLEASE COME BE FERAL AND DEBASED.

-- Prompts [1/?]:

Armand/Daniel Molloy

"I would KILL for some more Devil's Minion fics where Armand is still masquerading as Rashid. Preferably with some serious guilt from Daniel's side, but not necessary"

--

Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Intimacy, Grief/Mourning

"Cairo, London, New York, New York, San Francisco, Dubai: five different kinds of sex louis had with dreamstat over the years, and one time they just held each other and talked

"i need all the dreamstat/louis that the show never gave us??"

--

Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Armand/Daniel Molloy, Claudia/Madeleine, Armand/Lestat de Lioncourt Seduction to the Dark Side, Somnophilia, Hypnotism, Career Ending Injuries, Laughter During Sex, Saving the World, Forced Orgasm, Love at First Sight

"mirrorverse/dark parallel universe au. Children of Satan covenmaster Armand de Romanus and his devoted consort, the powerful Lestat de Lioncourt, arrive in 1910 America to spread the word of Satan. Gentleman vampire killer Louis de Pointe du Lac and his charge Claudia are not amused. Armand's right-hand woman Madeleine Eparvier thinks they could be persuaded with the right kind of incentive. Reporter Daniel Molloy thinks it makes for a great story."

--

Nicolas de Lenfent/Lestat de Lioncourt, Nicolas de Lenfent Lestat de Lioncourt First Time

"I would love to see a first time between Nicki and Lestat. Maybe it's their time in general or the first time after Nicki is turned. (Maybe even some canon divergent reunion sex?) I'd just like it to be very fluffy, those men deserve to be in love. (Bonus points for laughing/giggling/joking around during)"

--

Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Human/Monster Romance, Size Kink, Body Horror, Enthusiastic Consent

"monsterfucking au. Lestat manages to restrain himself to le petit coup with Louis after Lily passes out, but once they’re upstairs he cannot contain his transition to his beastly vampiric form in the heat of the moment."

--

Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Lestat de Lioncourt/Other(s) Promiscuity, Pansexual Character

"college AU. top!lestat. everyone wants to be able to say they got a piece of gorgeous lestat de lioncourt but no one actually wants to get to know him, let alone date him. lestat pretends he’s okay with this. he’ll even have sex with people he doesn’t like if they’ll give him attention. then he falls hard for his latest hookup, commitment-averse louis de pointe du lac; lestat is determined he can persuade this one to stay?

"louis de pointe du lac does not have time to blow up his studies and family for an identity crisis just because he didn’t know sex with some basic white foreign male-model-looking village-bicycle mentally-ill himbo could make him feel like his life just started.

"how is “post-nut clarity (other people’s)” not an ao3 tag."

[b1zmuth]

The Mishaps of SITE: DD (Obey Me! X Reader) 

SC \\ Monsters, gore, the SCP foundation, you date everyone ig… slight angst but with a happy ending, fluff, sci-fi, experimenting, mentioned suicide, everyone is a little off their rocker, you are NOT innocent!! I'll add more tags later..

TL;DR - Think the SCP Foundation, but you are the researcher who unfortunately gets assigned to Seven Keter classified objects. 

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This fanfic was inspired by: Goldfish in a Bottle by Lucky_Fluffy (AO3) & Uncontainable by JayWrites23 (AO3) <<< this fic was the shit in prime MCYT 

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There you sat, illuminated by a blaring red light- in your desolate office, hunched over a stack of papers that you occasionally set aside after writing some confidential sentences, glancing towards a steaming cup of coffee that practically had your name written all over it- ‘’Can't. I have to finish this first..’’ after all, that stack of confidential papers wouldn’t sign themselves up to upper management. 

Only you would, after all. 

And this is how it would be for eternity, or until you finally took your own life from ‘’mental illness’’ (as they say) like the others.

This place operated like a fucking mental institution gone rogue, having researchers and workers fling themselves off of the concrete balconies to escape the neverending mind-fuck of a concrete complex this ‘’job’’ masked itself as. 

You’ve been working here for six years now, becoming a loyal and compliant worker that the higher-ups could depend on. 

Workers killed themselves again? You’ve got it covered. Another containment breach that killed nearly everyone in SITE: [REDACTED]? You're the one shipped directly to the nearest prison to get more subjects. The higher-ups need someone silenced? You're on it immediately.’’

It's safe to say, you are not innocent. You're just as bad as the next. 

If it wasn’t for them dangling the golden shimmering light of freedom over your head constantly, maybe you would have defected and saved just a couple of more lives…but god, the slight chance of freedom sounded better than certain death. 

Now that you think back on the chance of freedom, this red light was getting really fucking annoying. 

The telltale sign of a containment breach- following a loud and annoying blaring alarm that mentioned the highest class that could be roaming around the facility, scaring the everloving shit out of you when you were nothing but a rookie researcher in your original facility... To the present you who sat in your uncomfortable office chair, furiously clicking a hidden button under your desk- totally unphased by the current event that put you in imminent danger of being brutally mauled- but in reality, you couldn’t be more safe. 

Hiding in front of your chair really fools the anomalies into moving on to the next unfortunate soul- or really, letting the rookies scream and wail for help while you continue writing on those damned papers, because as you said- those papers won't be writing themselves anytime soon, and you’ll be damned if you get pink-slipped over one late paper like Thirteen did- and getting pink-slipped was bad, like extremely bad for off-fielding-researchers; getting transferred to a subject and your position being changed to on-field for months at a time.

You remember a time when you got pink-slipped, and got assigned to a misclassified anomaly… You're pretty glad that Thirteen doesn't want to build a bond with hers.

.

.

. 

Speaking of Thirteen, you were seriously starting to worry about their safety- stopping your pen from writing the last few sentences and rising from your seat. 

You can't recall what the highest class in the facility at the moment was, especially since the newest anomaly that had been identified and completed its pending status was classified as a Thaumiel- which generally meant that nobody had a clue as to its danger status or WHAT it even is, except for the high, high, HIGHER ups, and the 05. 

And you turned off the siren in your room long ago, just so you could avoid having your ears ringing for the rest of the work day- so you would just have to gamble with your own life all over trying to check up on Thirteen. You're oh so compassionate. 

But it wouldn't be all in vain, she WAS working with that Thaumiel class anomaly who, according to her, was a complete pain in the fucking ass and purposefully did things just to get on her nerves- and that bare annoyance was probably out and about roaming the halls, most likely dragging a battered up and beaten Thirteen along with it! 

Now that was crossing the line, the only person that you got along with being potentially dead really fired up your ‘’heroic’’ nature, and had you sprinting down the hallway, which was unusually dead and quiet- save for the dying breaths of some class-D workers and researchers and the gut-wrenching metallic smell of dried and fresh blood, and intestines littered throughout the hallway, plastered across the walls, smeared all over the floors, and your slow realization of how you let your emotions get the better of you once agai- oh, would you look at that- Thirteens door is sealed shut with claw marks.

‘’Fuck.’’ you muttered under your breath, noticing a small-but-crawlable hole in the door- but you were already out here in a straight-shot line of fire from any roaming anomaly, so that hole was the only way you were going to be able to start pushing 26…

So you sucked in a breath and squeezed into the hole, cutting yourself lightly in the process before you emerged on the other side of the door- only to be greeted with the sight of Thirteen warming a hot pocket in her microwave, who looked baffled at your sudden appearance- ‘’Am I tripping balls or is there like NOT a containment breach going on?? The actual hell are you doing warming up food while people are dying outside?’’ you jokingly pointed a nagging finger at Thirteen who just crossed their arms and snickered back- ‘’I could ask you the same question, we work pretty far apart in the block… and there IS a containment breach going on, so how did YOU get here? 

You just rolled your eyes and plopped down on the nearby couch, waving off Thirteen with some dismissive motioning of your hand- “For your information, I was incredibly worried about you since you have to deal with your subject, especially in an active CB.” 

Thirteen scoffed, stopping the microwave right before it started to beep, taking out her hot pocket- ‘’Really, MC? Cmon now, I'm working with a Thaumiel class- and as much as I loathe the fucker, he’s pretty smart, even got himself a name.’’ she responded, taking a bite out of her hot pocket before she spoke again; ‘’but, the cocky lil’ shit keeps on telling me his name is ‘’Solomon The Great’’, so I guess it's a win/lose situation here?’’ she shook her head whilst tossing you a pair of sunglasses and motioning for you to follow- ‘’It’s not like this CB is going to last any longer anyways; too many precious valuables at risk, y’know?’’

As you followed Thirteen deeper into her laboratory- watching as the lights slowly got dimmer and dimmer before becoming almost pitch black, except for an unnervingly yellow light shining brightly somewhere in the distance- catching your attention almost immediately. 

Now that you look more closely at the light- you can see some faint strands of hair slowly moving around, turning towards your direction once you and Thirteen made it down to the bottom- ‘’And to your right, my precious tour’ee, is the famed attraction- Solomon The Great!’’ she said, enthusiastically waving her hands towards the direction of…nothing? 

‘’Solomon The Great? More like Solomon The Escapee Artist! Thirteen, we are quite literally in an active containment breach and you're waving about your hands up, down, left, right, and center towards a MISSING anomaly?!’’ you groaned, your breathing getting more and more frenzied with every nervous look Thirteen flashed at you as she desperately typed into the nearby keypad- her nervous laugh slowly dying more and more with every incorrect passkey she typed in. 

‘’Ahahah…’’ Thirteen grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into Solomon’s enclosure- making you yelp before she covered your mouth with her hand, forcing your head to look upwards towards the white-haired mass that was slowly crawling backward on the- ‘’IS THAT THING CRAWLING ON THE FUCKING CEILING? IS THAT THING SOLOMON?!’’- well, way to go you! ‘’Solomon’’ was now staring directly at you with a look of complete distaste and hurt! We’re officially fucked! 

You smacked your lips at the sight of Thirteen and….whatever that thing was doing up on the ceiling, looking at you like you just kicked a puppy- ‘’Don't even look at me like that! This motherfucker is full-on CRAWLING on the ceiling and yall are acting like this is just a normal daily occurrence!’’ you gestured over to the reversed spider who was HANGING from the ceiling now and got an unamused sigh from Thirteen and an even louder sigh from the albino monkey above you- ‘’MC…Solomon is a creature- of course, he’s going to be doing weird shit all over the place, not that even if he was a human he would cut the shit with all of these lame PRANKS!’’ Thirteen yelled the last part while throwing a rolled-up newspaper at Solomon, who just responded with a broken ‘’What gives?!’’ after catching the newspaper and falling back to the ground.

‘’What gives is you pulling pranks during bad times, again! We’ve been over this- god who knows how many times I've had to beat some sense into you! I’ve even forgotten myself!’’ And the white-haired-turned-stone-male suddenly stopped in an accusatory pose- ‘’some shit straight out of Ace Attorney’’ you cringed at his god-awful pose before Thirteen tapped you on the shoulder, motioning towards her covered eyes.

‘’The shades I gave you? They weren't just for decoration, MC!’’ she crossed her arms and huffed, eliciting a groan from you as you slipped on the shades she gave you and saw Solomon finally resume his original state, human-like, it seemed- ‘’You're just like Barbatos! So caring for me, even though your extremely small heart cannot display your affection through your facial features…’’ he dramatically twirled, landing his hand over his eyes as if that borderline pathetic display was going to stop Thirteen from threatening him with ripping off her shades and sending him back into his catatonic state. 

And you watched them bicker and duel it out on the floors of Solomon’s enclosure for a good fifteen minutes before the alarms started blaring- signaling the All-Clear. 

---------------------SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT-----------------------

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL ON SIGHT: THE ALL CLEAR HAS BEEN REPORTED, PLEASE RESUME PAUSED WORK. 

---------------------SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT-----------------------

‘’Well, that means I can go back to my office and finish my work! Good luck Solomon!’’ you 

shouted back at the still-bickering-duo who were still going at it…fifteen minutes later.., throwing up your hand as a goodbye as you ascended back up the stairs and paused in front of the forcibly reinforced door. 

‘’Damn.’’ you muttered under your breath, shaking your head at the absurdity of the situation, and the whole idea of just crawling back through that hole you came in flying out of your head, as you decided if you should go all the way back down and get Solomon’s help or just drop to the floor and start working on your two-week notice and a will- well, that was right before the alarms started blaring, again.

---------------------SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT-----------------------

ATTENTION: DUE TO THE CONTAINMENT BREACH OCCURRING AT 14:32, A GRACE PERIOD HAS BEEN INSTATED; ALL PAPERWORK IS NOW DUE AT 15:15.

---------------------SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT-----------------------

And just like you mentioned before, this place is a fucking nightmare. 

‘’Well, at least when you're an On-Fielder you don't have to worry about being pink-slipped, your paperwork gets cut in half.’’ Thirteen who randomly appeared right behind your ear said, motioning for Solomon to get to work on the door- ‘’you have eight minutes to write like a bat out of hell, better hurry up and go before your stuck with someone as annoying as Solomon over there.’’ she patted your back and ushered you out of the newly made gaping-hole in the wall. 

Maybe being the next red splatter on the concrete floors of the cafeteria WASN’T such a bad idea, because this was just god awful- having to play Bollywood Subway Surfers throughout the hallway all the way back to your office isn’t as fun as it sounds. 

But luckily enough for you, you made it back with 5 minutes left to spare, and one last paper..wait, no two…three? 

Oh isn't that just great. The last paper you had managed to leave unfinished- to reveal itself as three papers stapled into one- all conveniently long enough to keep you sitting at your desk reading through all the material for fifteen minutes- you could just…sign the papers and worry about the consequences later… after all, it's not like taking one little risk would kill you! right?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

‘’Oh godfuckingdammit! Give me a break! A COW! A COW!! A DEMON COW AT THAT! You’ve got to be joking- seriously! If I walk in that THING’s enclosure I'm going to be not pushing 26 but fuckin’ DAISIES!''

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A/N - yello! biz speaking, i havent wrote for some days since I went on an trip to Florida with some schoolmates, and I really didn't feel like writing so I wasn't able to force myself to write.. this is a chapter story although! and I love writing chapter stories <3 so this will most likely be frequently updated and such!! also please go show some love to the inspo credits I mentioned in the beginning!! they are very talented and I loved reading their works!!!

i really hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

<<< ''You cant go back.'' || ''Are you sure you want to return?'' >>>