#oh also before I forget I also connected your eyebrows to your horns because of how expressive you draw them

[bittysteam]

turning my mutuals into dragons >:] first victim: @zus-a-fungi

Zus-a-fungi the ink blooded dragon >:]

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[the-melting-world]

Strength | Side B: "The Lily"

Art by @ ligiawrites

~ In which a secretive barhand sacrifices a dream...

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Lucio | Valdemar

Track Origins: “The Lily” by Blanco White

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: Strength

Khleo is Non-binary and uses she/they pronouns interchangeably

cw: language, alcohol, mild violence, blood, hostile work environment, pregnancy (*For clarification, themes of pregnancy are not connected to themes of blood or violence*)

~ 5k words

While Lucio waits outside the basement of the Chandrian Tavern Hall, he’s approached by Khleo’s familiar, Hefe. The lioness has a few questions for the former Count…

Lucio was well aware that there were certain familiars that could communicate with people aside from the humans to which they were bonded. Still, he never thought that he would be holding a conversation with a lion in the back alleys of Center City.

Hefe, as she introduced herself, had joined Lucio on top of the pile of crates, which whined considerably as she settled on her haunches.

< You smell like Death. >

Hefe spoke the last word as if she knew the Arcana personally. Lucio took one glance at the lioness’ great paws and chose not to deny it.

“You’re right,” he said thickly. He struggled to maintain eye contact with her steady, amber gaze.

< If you mean to bring my cub any harm, you can take it elsewhere. >

Lucio’s naturally blond eyebrows lifted an inch. “Do you mean Khlee?”

She nodded slowly.

He shook his head and huffed, “Death’s ties are to me and me alone. Trust me, I’m not trying to drag anyone else into it. What I have to go back to…” he thought about the dank cellar of the Lazaret and its shelves full of outdated medical instruments. He thought of pale green skin and carefully mummified horns. Lucio turned his head and shuddered. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

Hefe was silent for a moment before a purr trilled low in her throat.

< Good. >

When Lucio looked back up, the familiar was gone.

Commotion trickled in from the other side of the door. Lucio could hear members filling up what sounded like a spacious area. Greetings rang out. Equipment was dragged off of shelves and out of boxes. Whatever this club meeting was about, it sounded like there was something physical going on.

The former count waited a few more minutes before taking a deep breath, standing up, and letting himself inside.

About two dozen people were crowded around some kind of pit. The pair locked in were definitely fighting. Lucio could see over most of the heads taking up the space. He picked up on the challengers’ bare feet and how they sparred bare-knuckled. Except, they weren’t sparring. The blows were connecting. Solidly. Intentionally.

Lucio’s game was swordplay, but he had some training in hand to hand combat. He used what he could remember to try to pinpoint the style. The closest he could figure was kick-boxing, but that didn’t seem quite right. The punches looked too strange for that — too curvy. And the blocks were absorbed more by the elbows. When the opponents were locked, grasping for the back of each other’s head, no one broke it up. The lively spectators only watched while the challengers tried to climb up each other, knees first like excited apes.

“Monty. You came.”

The new presence at his elbow startled Lucio. Just like their cat, Khlee had managed to easily sneak up on him. Lucio noticed that her suspenders swung below her waist and her shirt was unbuttoned a lot lower than would be appropriate for serving customers. They didn’t seem to care.

Khlee gestured to the energetic knot of people.

“What do you think?”

Lucio glanced back at the fight and grimaced. “Is no one going to break them up?”

Khlee smiled. “Doesn’t work like that. They’re looking for the clinch. Makes it easier to lay in some knees to the more vulnerable part of the body.”

Lucio grunted like he knew what the hell they were talking about.

“And they’re okay with getting so… bloody?”

The barhand nodded. “They look forward to that too.” They looked up at Lucio and hooked their thumb over their shoulder. “Come over here and I’ll show you the basics.”

The fights went on in the background while Khlee led Lucio to a quieter spot closer to the minibar. Finally working up the courage to comment about them, Lucio waved at Khleo’s arms.

“I bet fights are over for you pretty quickly.”

Her eyes widened a bit before she realized his meaning. “I mean, sure, I throw punches, but there’s more to it than that. Speaking of arms.” She explained that he would only be allowed to block with his gauntleted arm in order to minimize injury. After that was established, she started to show him how to properly stand and defend himself.

Lucio never even agreed to fighting in the first place, but this barhand seemed to know what she was doing when it came to instruction. Sport and the physical challenge that came with it was always something that resonated with Lucio no matter the playing field. And it had been ages since he learned something new. So he swallowed his doubt for the time being and absorbed Khlee’s crash course in this unorthodox style of combat.

The way of eight limbs, she called it.

Lucio learned that the “clinch” Khlee spoke of earlier referred to the series of standing grappling techniques that he witnessed when he first walked in. Despite how important this was to combat, Lucio made it very clear that he did not want to get caught in one of those. Especially not against someone smaller and scrappier than him like Khleo, whose shorter limbs and concentrated muscle gave her all the advantage in this sport.

“What? Afraid your skin will bruise too easy?” Khlee teased right after she was done showing Lucio all the ways he could disengage himself from a sudden grapple.

Lucio, who had discarded his top layers a while ago, gently caged his alchemical arm over his abdomen and said, “Uh duh. Besides, I just ate. Forgive me if I’m not looking forward to losing my dinner all over my opponent.” Then he blushed and added sheepishly. “Thank you, by the way. For dinner.”

“Focus,” Khlee reminded him as they squared his hips and elevated his arms. They spent the next few minutes guiding him in strikes, many of which were concentrated not so much in the fists or feet, but in the elbows, knees, and shins.

“Can I be honest?” Lucio spoke up after forgetting to engage his hips on the last kick.

“Go ahead,” Khlee huffed right before punishing Lucio for his mistake with the proper form. Her shin met his ribs in a clean, controlled strike. Lucio knew that she was holding back, but he grunted all the same.

“I don’t like having to adjust to this style at all,” he whined. “Can’t I just fight the way I know how? Because really, this,” he exaggerated his hip movement and popped up his knees like he was bouncing a ball on them, “is all really stupid if you think about –”

Lucio felt his mouth pool with something gooey and hot before he tasted the iron. He doubled over shortly after his ribs started screaming at him.

“Oh. Look at that,” Khlee noted, “you just took a stupid elbow to the face and a stupid knee to the gut.”

Lucio waited before turning his head and spitting a wad of blood off to the side. “You almost made me lose a fucking tooth.”

Khlee came over and clapped him on the back. “If I wanted to do that, I would have. Now, Monty. Are you done insulting my way of fighting or is there something else you want to add?” They smirked at him in a way that appeared good natured and unoffended despite their sudden outburst of violence.

Before Lucio could answer, a handful of voices called both of their attentions towards the ring in the middle of the room.

“Khleo! Bring his green ass over here!”

“Yeah. You’ve had him long enough. We’re itching to break him in!”

The very last thing Lucio wanted was to get broken in by the scrappy-looking bunch that beckoned him over. But he also didn’t want to appear spineless in front of all of these people, so he didn’t protest as Khlee guided him to the center of the ring.

Lucio found comfort in her heavy hand resting on his shoulder as she looked out at her club members and recited a few rules. The first two were the same. Don’t talk about the damn club. A few members chuckled at that. Khlee reminded them that if someone tried to tap out, said “stop” or went limp, that meant that the fight was over. Lucio was relieved to see the members take this one more seriously. They all nodded in grave understanding.

To Lucio’s disgust, one of the rules was no shirt, no shoes. Biting back his groan, he removed his boots and handed them off to one of the members on the sidelines.

“And finally, rule number eight.” Khlee gave Lucio’s shoulder a squeeze. “My friend Monty here, it’s his first night, which means,” she dropped her hand and backed up into the throng, smiling broadly, “he has to fight.”

Many were eager to take Lucio on, but since it was his first time, he got to decide which of the volunteers he would go against. In the end, he went with someone of his similar height and build. He didn’t want the smaller fighters using their advantage against him. He only hoped that his challenger lacked about as much flexibility as he did.

After they assumed their stances and touched knuckles, the challenger said something Lucio didn’t expect.

“I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”

Lucio hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he swung quietly, but with all his might.

The rest of the fight was a bit of a blur.

Lucio forgot everything that he learned. One minute he was blocking with his elbows and keeping his opponent at a distance with well timed foot jabs and the next, his arms were flailing and he was losing all balance.

The bystanders acted as the ropes to a real boxing ring. Whenever he staggered, they pushed him back into the fight. He ate a lot of blows. Some hands. A few elbows. His head was spinning and his blood was on fire.

Sound warbled in and out of his ears like he was underwater. His eyesight was lost to the sweat. His blood ran down his neck, his chest, and made the floor slippery. Both he and his opponent lost their footing and came down hard. Then they laughed together.

Lucio knew he couldn’t fight blind on unsteady legs, so he asked them to stop. They did and many hands came to help Lucio onto his feet. He was given towels, water, and a kiss on the forehead, no doubt by his challenger.

Since Lucio’s was the last fight of the night, the crowd retired around the broken picnic table by the wall. Khleo served them up a round of bread and ale so flat and diluted, it was practically water. But no one complained.

Lucio didn’t have much to say amidst the group of companions, but they made him feel at home. A few of them asked about his arm and showed off their own prosthetics to compare.

Later, after everyone had gone, Lucio left the table covered in empty beer glasses and joined Khlee at the minibar.

“You in the mood for a real drink?” She asked, already pouring something amber and smoky into a crystal tumbler.

Lucio sighed. “Usually, I would, but I think my blood has had enough excitement for one evening.”

Khlee added a couple of ice cubes and chuckled, “No such thing.”

While she took her first sips, Lucio tested his swollen cheek with the blunted fingers of his alchemical hand.

“At first I couldn’t really understand why you all would fight hard enough to draw blood. If it was for some money or a prize, it would have made more sense to me, but…”

“But you realized that we’re all just perverted little piggies looking for punishment.” Khlee rested her empty glass on the wood.

Lucio laughed. “Yeah. That.” He shook his head. “But then I got in there and I get it now.” Listening to the patrons talk, he caught on to what they did for a living. They were the chamberlains, the couriers, the nurses, the gondoliers, the construction and sewer workers. Khlee’s club was full of the people who pulled the most weight to keep this city afloat. They were the ones who needed to let off the most steam from what Lucio could tell.

“So, Montag…” Khlee said, breaking Lucio from his line of thoughts, “Did your mother give you that name?”

Lucio raised an eyebrow.

Khlee added, “I was just thinking, why Montag? Wouldn’t it make more sense to name you Donnerstag – Thursday, after the god of thunder?”

Lucio scoffed, “Why would that make more sense?”

She started buttoning up her shirt. “Well because, you know. No offense, but everybody hates mondays.”

“Is this your strategy to keep your patrons coming back?” Lucio snapped. “By hacking their birth names to pieces?”

The barhand didn’t appear ruffled by the other’s outburst. “Just trying to make a little conversation.”

Lucio leaned back some. “Alright, then. What about your name? Von Heine. I know that village. The Heine.” It was a little hamlet nestled on the edges of the Scourgelands. Lucio’s people and Khlee’s shared the same language, but different histories. “It’s where you all dress like snaggle-tooth toddlers and spend every waking hour grinding wheat and growing yeast for your bread or your booze.”

The barhand rested her forearms on the bar, leaned on them and smiled. “Based on the stories Papa told me, that sounds about right.”

The distant look in her expression made Lucio soften his voice. “You don’t remember?”

She waved at nothing. “I’ve never been to the Heine. Only heard stories growing up. My folks found me in the coliseum when I was just a kid. They raised me.” There was some silence.

Khleo cleared her throat and straightened up a little. “As for the tracht,” She looped her suspenders back on and gave them a light snap. “You can blame the owner. He wanted the tavern to appeal to tourists. So while I might look like a toddler, remember that I can still kick your ass, Monty.”

Lucio snickered. “Noted.”

Still grinning, Khleo asked, “You got yourself a place to sleep tonight?”

Lucio looked elsewhere. “Uh. Not this time.”

Khleo pointed at the fireplace. “I know it doesn’t look like much from here, but it’s pretty cozy in the hearth. And Hefe can keep you warm.”

Lucio briefly considered the idea of sleeping in an empty fireplace with someone else’s lion for a blanket. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that had happened to him in one evening. Once upon a time, the thought of going to sleep somewhere like that would make his skin crawl. But like many things that had seen that day, he experienced it through a new lens. He trusted Khleo.

Besides, he really, really didn’t want to sleep out in the cold street.

“Thank you.”

Before Khleo could respond, their privacy was broken by the sound of a door opening.

“Shit.”

Quick and without making any noise, Khleo hoisted herself over the minibar and dragged Lucio off of the stool. She pressed a finger to his lips when he tried to protest. One look at her dark expression told him now was not the time to argue. Lucio tried to keep his steps soft as Khleo guided him to the hearth. She gently bent him over and pushed him inside, tugging the curtains closed behind him.

Hefe growled dimly as Lucio tumbled over her. There was some awkward movement as the lioness made room for him. By the time Lucio was semi-comfortable, he tuned in to the heated conversation that already started in the basement.

“Overheard one of your idiot friends on their way out. You don’t charge admission?” The mature voice must have belonged to the person descending the stairs.

There was no answer from Khleo at first. Then she murmured almost too low for Lucio to hear, “No, but they’re welcome to leave donations.”

Lucio listened to heavy footfalls making their way to the broken picnic table.

“And you’re giving away our food?”

In a voice that suggested this wasn’t the first time they had this argument, Khleo finally spoke up.

“You never said I had to charge for entry into the club. You only said I had to pay rent, which I do. I’m never late. And that’s just bread left over from today. We can’t sell it tomorrow. I don’t see the problem if we have to throw it out anyway.”

Something pounded once on the wood, rattling the glass mugs.

“This is a place of business, Khlee. Not a gods-fucking food bank!”

“Are you done?”

“Am I…” The wood creaked. “Am I what now?”

Khleo sighed. “Nothing, Otto. We’re good. I’ll start charging for the damn bread.”

The silence that followed was tense, uncertain. Lucio longed to see what kind of looks were being exchanged between them, but he wouldn’t dare move aside the curtain. Hefe seemed to sense it too because she kept her head leveled a few inches off the ground and her ears at alert angles.

“Oh no, I think you forgot something. You definitely forgot who the fuck you’re talking to.”

Crash.

“Didn’t you?”

Crash.

It took a moment for Lucio to register the sound of glasses being flung and breaking against the minibar as well as the wall behind it.

The barhand’s voice had lost its cool indifference.

“Otto, come on. Don’t. I’ll pay for it, okay? Just put it on with the rent. You don’t have to–”

CRASH.

“Wait!”

CRASH.

Hefe lowered her ears, but she didn’t move. Lucio pressed his back against the brick in an effort to steady himself and quiet his breaths.

“Stop! Stop! Why are you doing this? I’m sorry, okay? Uncle – hold on!”

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

Lucio leaned forward, but Hefe used her shoulder to shove him back.

< No. >

“Onkel, bitte.” Khleo’s voice came from somewhere low. Like she was squatting on the floor. “Tut mir Leid… . Es tut mir Leid. It won’t happen again. I promise....” She inhaled a ragged breath and whimpered as if in pain.

The man’s breath came out a little labored from all the effort. “You said you take donations?”

“… Ja.”

“Where?”

Khleo sniffled. “Unter da.”

Glass crunched and broke underfoot as the man went about his search. Eventually, he gave a contented sigh. “That should cover all this mess and the bread. Now... clean this shit up.”

More glass popped under his weight as he headed towards the stairs. The sniffles died down a few minutes after he left. Lucio sat frozen, unsure how he should proceed.

Finally, there was movement and Khleo’s voice came out dark and choked.

“Hefe… just do it.”

Khleo’s voice and the sound of Hefe’s hypnotic purr was the last thing Lucio remembered before losing himself to total darkness.

*

*

*

Basil seethed in silence while he listened to his boss get on Samira’s case yet again. This time it was about her uniform.

“Mr. Otto, I told you, the ones you gave me when I started working don’t fit me anymore.”

Otto snorted. “I missed the part where that’s my problem. Those uniforms don’t grow on trees, girl.”

The afternoon shift had just ended, so they were all tired, but still had their stations to clean. Khleo was taking her break from deliveries under a quilt in one of the empty booths. Gabe had started his delivery shift a few minutes ago. The bar was empty except for Samira, Basil and of course, their boss. Currently, he was enjoying his afternoon snack in front of his employees.

Samira shook her head and surrendered her hands. “I didn’t even know the uniforms were mandatory. Basil and Gabe never wear theirs.”

Otto swallowed a spoonful of oatmeal. “Last time I checked, you weren’t Basil or Gabe.”

Samira’s glasses started to get misty the longer she looked at her employer. She waved at Basil without looking away from Otto. “But if the uniforms are mandatory, why don’t you ever say anything to them?”

Without missing a beat, Otto punctated the air with his spoon as he explained. “They’ve put in their time here, while you… Lass, you haven’t been here but a minute.”

“Mr. Otto, I’m sorry, but this is not fair.”

It’s more than unfair, Basil wanted to add, but he bit back his tongue. He shot a glance over at Khleo’s sleeping lump, wondering if they could hear this right now.

“Fair.” Otto dragged out the word. “What about if I cut my losses with you and hire a new barmaid?” He studied his bowl as he scraped the oats off the edges in a way that set Basil’s teeth on edge. “All you do is look pretty at the front of the house. Anyone can do that, Miss Kaba.”

Samira’s garnet eyes went wide and then narrowed suddenly. Her lip trembled. “That is not all that I do.”

Finally, Otto looked up and sighed. “I don’t have time for the tears today, Samira. Here’s the key for the costumes in storage. You and Khlee are dancing tonight. Now, the waistlines on those dresses are all adjustable, so I don’t want to hear anymore excuses about your fitting issue. Understand?”

Samira looked like she had something else she wanted to say. Instead, she blinked rapidly as she took the keys from Otto and practically broke out into a run.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Basil let Otto have it. “Did you really have to give her the whole ‘you’re replaceable’ speech?”

Otto narrowed his eyes at the barhand. “I pay you to make drinks, Jebeles. Know your place.”

Basil replied, “You’re always going on about how the barmaids bring in the most customers, yet none of ours stay for more than a few months. Think you should lighten up some? Just maybe?”

Otto rolled his eyes. “If the lass doesn’t have the backbone to work here, then she should find herself another bar.” Then he grunted as he stood up and wandered over to the booth where Khleo was resting.

Otto used his foot to jostle Khleo awake. She poked her curly head out from under the quilt and scowled in her usual way.

“You’re dancing tonight,” He said without a hello. “Go get dressed.”

Basil expected Khleo to give at least a little pushback. She wasn’t a fan of wearing the dirndl unless it was for the annual beer festivals. Otherwise, she chose to perform without it. But to Basil’s surprise, Khleo set her jaw and didn’t meet Otto’s eyes as she climbed out of the booth. She rolled up her quilt, tucked it under her arm, and wordlessly headed towards the basement. After she left, Otto floated back to the bar, smiling smugly to no one in particular.

Basil wasn’t sure what he just saw, but he didn’t like it.

***

The costume chest was already opened by the time Khleo got there. She changed mostly in the dark until it was time to lace up the bodice of the dress.

Figuring Samira couldn’t be far off, she left the costumes and wandered further through the storage space.

“Mir,” Khleo called out, her voice still raspy from sleep. “Can you help me with this? You know I always forget how to…”

Khleo found her coworker off in some corner, sitting on a prop used for talent shows. She was hunched over a bit, her arms resting palms up against her thighs, almost as if she was waiting for something to fall into them.

Samira looked like she had gotten halfway with putting on her dirndl when she had given up. Even in the low light, Khleo could detect the wet shine clinging to her cheeks.

“Sorry, Khleo. I was on my way to help you, but I... kind of lost track of time.”

The sound of water rising up her throat drew Khleo closer. It wasn’t the first time they had shared a room during costume changes, so neither had much of a reaction to Samira’s state of undress. As Khleo came closer, her eyes wandered past the barhand’s bra and down to where her stomach interrupted the costume.

“Don’t laugh, but I can’t get it over my tummy.” Samira snorted, almost like it was a joke.

Khleo reached out her hand and arched a curious brow.

Samira sniffed. “It’s okay.”

The barhand took a deep breath before grazing the skin over Samira’s navel with her fingertips. She felt a flicker at first. When she pressed her entire palm against the warm bump, she felt something more.

< Ask her how long it’s been. >

“Six and half months, I think.” Samira answered when Khleo voiced Hefe’s question aloud.

Khleo withdrew her hand. “You think? You haven’t seen a doctor yet?”

Samira closed her eyes and sighed. “No, but… I haven’t had the money or the time. Have you seen where I work?” Then she opened them and glared a little at Khleo. “Plus, I’m not an idiot. I haven’t had a drink or a cigarette since I first suspected. I can take care of myself.”

“You need to see a doctor, Mir.” Khleo was pacing now. “The father?”

Samira’s face twisted as she mumbled something dark and negating.

Khleo stopped. “Right,” she sighed. There were so many other questions she wanted to ask. But when she looked at Samira, who seemed like she was already regretting trusting someone else with this information, Khleo inhaled again and approached her friend.

“What do you want to do next? If you could?”

Samira blinked, gratitude and relief filling her eyes at the question Khleo had settled on.

“I have a half sister in Nevivon. She would take me in, but she’s got kids too and she works. If I could just get to her.”

Khleo grunted in understanding. Trips across the sea were not cheap. And Samira couldn’t just stop paying rent.

While Khleo was still thinking, Samira curled on herself and whispered, “I was trying to take more shifts so I could get out of here as fast as I could, but Otto… he’s going to find out, Khlee. He’s going to figure this out and then he’s going to fire me. I know he is.”

“No he’s not,” Khleo replied calmly as she unhooked her keys from one of her inner pockets. She held out the one to her apartment. “Here. My place is in the Flooded District. Hefe will help you. Go there and wait for me.”

Samira sat up a little straighter. “What? I can’t just leave. My shift is nowhere near over.”

Khleo took Samira’s hand and pressed the key in her palm. “Don’t worry about that. Just trust me. I can explain everything tonight.”

To Khleo’s relief, Samira relaxed her hand around the key. She hesitated once more before sighing and nodding. “Okay. Let me help you tie up your dress and then I’ll go.”

As soon as Samira and Hefe were out the back door, Khleo put the next few hours out of her mind. She entered a sort of trance as she walked up the stairs and made up an excuse for Samira’s absence. Otto wasn’t happy about it, but that wouldn’t even matter after tonight.

Khleo put on a smile, danced, served, and entertained the patrons. Whenever Basil tried to get her alone and ask his questions, she dodged him with the grace of a feyling determined to remain elusive.

Otto, thankfully, went home early and left his barhands with the responsibility of closing up. Khleo pulled some favors and managed to free herself soon after her boss left. She skipped changing out of her dress and just jogged briskly through the lanterned avenues until she made it to her apartment.

When she came inside, she found Samira asleep on the couch. Hefe lay on the floor, guarding the space. Khleo avoided her familiar’s gaze as she quietly walked past the couch and down the hall. When she entered her room, she closed the door behind her and shut her eyes.

There wasn’t time to think about what she was going to do. If she gave herself even a moment, she feared she would lose her nerve.

Moments later, Khleo was back in the common room, gently helping Samira onto her feet.

“Khleo?”

Khleo hugged her. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Here.”

Samira blinked a few times and put on her glasses before accepting the glass jar that Khleo offered her. She briefly took note of the contents before asking, “What’s this?”

Khleo cleared her throat. “It’s enough to get you to Nevivon and set up with a doctor until you have the baby.”

Samira turned the jar over in her hands. “What, you just had this lying around? What was it for?”

“Please.” Khleo couldn’t look at the jar, so she locked eyes with Samira instead. “Please, Mir, just take it. Take it and go.”

Whatever Samira wanted to say, she held onto it. Then she opened her arms and held onto Khleo.

“Thank you, Khlee. I was so afraid that… just. Thank you.”

Khleo was out of words. She hugged Samira back, staring wide-eyed at the walls of peeling paint in her apartment as she nodded in understanding.

After Samira had left, Khleo noticed that Hefe had disappeared too. She had no desire to look for her. Instead, Khleo drifted back into her bedroom and came before her antique dresser like it was some kind of altar.

Soon she was on her knees, bowed before the very last drawer, where she kept the dreams of her father, her mother, and her own.

Khleo seldom opened the drawer. She knew that if she wanted to take out and admire her dreams, she would have put them back and close them inside the wood. Tonight she looked down at her dreams and they looked back at her.

A tight moan escaped the barhand as she dragged her palm up her face and dug her nails into her hairline. With her other hand, she tried to close the drawer. Like always, it was stubborn and would not bend to her.

And so Khleo fought with the drawer until it gave in. She shut up her dreams so she wouldn’t have to look at them anymore. Tears and sobs consumed her until there was nothing left but thoughts. The low and bitter kind.

[thiswasinevitableid]

5, sternclay, nsfw? 👀

Here you go

5: Incubus

“Buddy, I promise, you can come in and cuddle in like, ten minutes.” 

The whining at the bedroom door stops, replaced by a big, wet nose, just visible through the crack at the bottom of the door as it snuffles back and forth. It’s very cute, but Barclay is not about to let his dog deprive him of a much needed jerk-off session.

He’s ready for bed, so it’s just a matter of pulling down his pajama pants and getting to it. Closing his eyes, he pictures that cute customer who gets black coffee and a croissant every morning at the Lodge. It takes a few tries to find a fantasy he likes, the one about the back counter and the new uses for a spatula.

Outside the door, Sass starts whining again, scratching frantically at the wood. There goes his deposit. 

God, he can practically feel the guy up against him.

The bed dips on the outside of each thigh. Opening his eyes reveals a man wearing nothing but deep blue boxer briefs and a smile. 

“Holyshitwhatthefuck?” He clambers back, banging his head on the wall in his hurry to sit up, “what the fuck man, how’d you get in here?”

“A portal between dimensions.  That’s the, um, simplified version. But don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. The opposite really. I’m an incubus.”

“Why the fuck is a fucking sex demon in my bedroom?” Barclay yanks his pants up. The incubus looks sad at this development. 

“I feed on sexual energy, and to do that I follow trails of that same energy to their source. You have a lot of it.”

“Yeah, year-long dry spell’ll do that.”

“Consider it broken.” The demon leans forward only for Barclay to hold up a hand.

“Nope. This is not how I want to break it. Sorry.”

“Is it my appearance? I can look like anyone--or anything--you want.” His features morph, eyes going from brown to blue to green, hair from honey-blond to fire red, “if you’re shy, my powers let me see into your deepest fantasies and make them come true.”

“No that’s not the problem, I wanna fuck someone I have some kinda connection to, not some guy who dropped into my bedroom. And would you please knock it off with that face-changing? I’m not gonna fuck you, so you can just look like yourself.”

The incubus starts, surprised by his sharp refusal, features landing on short, black hair, blue eyes, and a face that’d make a movie-star insecure. 

“I said you don’t have to try and be hot.”

“...This is how I look.” 

“Oh. Uh. Cool.” 

The demon smiles, “Having second thoughts?”

He takes a deep breath and lies through his teeth, “Nope.”

With that, he stands, grabbing the nearest shirt and pulling it on. Sass wiggles when he opens the door, takes one look behind him, and runs the other way.

“I wish I knew why earth canines react that way to me. I have a hellhound named Mother Leeds who adores me.”

“Jersey Devil reference?” He pads into the kitchen, starts the kettle and rummages in the cabinet for the most soothing tea blend he owns. 

“Yes!” The demon grins from his new position by the fridge, “when I found her she was pregnant with a litter. Most people don’t get it. Demons don’t either.”

“Friend of mine likes Mothman and all that kinda stuff. Uh” He takes a cup down, reaches for a second one automatically and then stops, “are you gonna hang around? Because my answer isn’t changing and if you keep pestering me I’ll just leave the apartment.”

“No, I’ll drop it. You’re not interested and sexual energy only works if it’s from something consensual. But, um” he toys with a magnet, “could I ask a few questions before I go?”

“About?”

“Humans. How things work up here, what your daily lives are like, that sort of thing.”

“Uh, sure.” He gets down the second mug, “is this so you can better seduce them or something?” Turning, he finds the incubus sitting at the table, producing a small notebook and pen from the air.

“No, this is my own research. I’m, um, more curious about humans than the average demon. I basically ended up an incubus because at my last job I kept trying to talk with humans or spend more time around them than was wise and, well, my supervisor got sick of it. So they offered me a reassignment to a role where the whole point was to be around people.”

“You fuck people just so you can, like, interview them afterwards?” He sets the two mugs on the table, notices that the notebook is crammed with questions in neat, elegant handwriting. 

“Technically, I also need the energy from it. But, um, yes” he blushes, “I know it’s a sort of silly hobby.”

“I don’t think it’s silly to wanna know about other worlds and people. But this doesn’t seem like the most, uh, effective way to do it.”

A sigh as the demon picks up his mug, “You’ve got that right. Sometimes I can get a few questions in during ‘pillow talk’ but mostly it’s in and out. Literally.” He snickers at his own bad joke, which further kindles the inexplicable, protective impulse Barclay feels towards him, “Don’t get me wrong, I like my work, and being a good incubus takes skill and dedication. It just...isn’t quite what I thought it’d be.” He sips the tea, brings the mug away from his mouth to study the liquid, “what kind is this?”

“Mostly chamomile.” 

“Chamomile…” he flips through the book, which contains more pages than should be physically and spatially possible, “that’s a plant, one that humans thing is calming, right?”

Barclay can’t help but smile, “Right. You want me to sit here and quiz you?”

“No, there’s too much to discover. What would you say is your area of expertise?” 

“I’m a cook, so food.”

“Food, food, ah here it is. Let’s see, why do humans persist in eating things that could kill them?”

“You mean things like rhubarb or are we in, like, Fugu territory here?”

The demon smiles, “I have no idea, please say more.”

They sit at the table until two in the morning, at which point Joseph ,the incubus, excuses himself to go collect energy from a willing participant. Before he disappears, he takes a chance and tells Joseph that he can come back if he has more questions. The demon thanks him and, out of what Barclay suspects is a habit more than anything else, blows him a kiss goodbye. 

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

“Y’know, I kinda figured you’d look more demonic. Do incubi just get human forms?” Barclay shakes red pepper flakes onto his pizza while Joseph finishes a filled breadstick. 

“This isn’t my ‘true’ form. When you asked me just to look like myself when we met, I figured you meant the least alarming version.”

“As long as it’s not, like, a beast with a thousand eyes, we’re good.”

Joseph wipes his mouth and by the time the napkin reaches the other corner of his lips, Barclay is gasping.

His nails turn sharp and silver, his eyes pure black, but it’s his skin that’s most noticeable; it’s swirls and swoops of blue and silver, dancing down his arms and blooming out from the neck of his  “Museum of Anthropology” souvenir shirt. He stands, giving Barclay a fuller view. Short horns sprout from his head, doubtless the perfect size and texture to hold him in place with your dick down his throat. His tail is that same mix of royal blue and silver, the right length to wrap around your hand and tug while you fuck him. Every inch of him is made to be pinched and pulled, groped and fondled, and Barclay will not be standing up from the table any time soon.

“It’s the color that gets people.” Joseph smiles with pointed teeth as he sits back down.

“It’s incredible, Joseph.”

The demon smiles, mischievous, “I’m glad you like it. Now, where were we?” He uncovers his notebook from a stack of parmesan packets and clicks his pen, appearance fading back to the human one Barclay is used to. He mourns his loss for a moment, before Joseph draws him into an animated conversation about movie theaters. 

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

“Come on Sass, it’s okay. Look, I even have your favorite.” Joseph holds out the treat, still fresh from the oven, while Barclay puts the rest of the batch out of range. The dog no longer runs from the demon, but will not come within arms reach of him. 

Sass whines, looking from Joseph to Barclay and back. 

“Here” Barclay settles on the couch next to him, resting his arm along the back of it, “see, buddy, he’s our friend.”

Sass creeps forward, still on his belly, plucks the treat from Joseph’s palm, and retreats to his bed. 

“Progress.” Joseph leans back, pleased. Their positions mean he comes to rest with Barclays arm around him. Barclay doesn’t move it, and the demon stays put until the end of the episode of Hells’ Kitchen

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

The newest Agent X is so engrossing that Barclay doesn’t register Joseph until his friend slumps onto the bed. 

“Hey, you’re early.” He sets the book down on the nightstand, scooching to where the demon sits rubbing his forehead.

“I’m, um, I’m having a bit of a problem.” When he looks up, silver and blue peeks through the skin on his face, “I misjudged how much energy I was going to get from my last two visits. I’m so weak I don’t think I can make it back home. I, um, I came here because if I’m going to be stuck and without powers I” his horns appear and he scratches them awkwardly, “I want it to be around someone I trust.”

“What’ll happen if you can’t get more energy?”

“I’ll get sick, and if the worst happens I’ll have to signal for someone to come get me. Which’ll get me demoted for sure.” He tucks his legs up onto the bed. He’s wearing the UFO socks Barclay gave him as a surprise last week, and the cook sets a hand on a flying-saucer covered ankle. 

“You can stay as long as you need, okay? And if there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.”

“Unless you feel like taking me door to door to ask your neighbors if they want to fuck, a safe place to rest is what I need most.”

“What if, uh, you recharged here?” He draws a finger up and down the side of Josephs’ calf.

The incubus raises his eyebrows, “Barclay, are you forgetting how we met?”

“I didn’t want to fuck you then, but now...now you’re you, this handsome, clever, dorky guy who also happens to be a sex demon who hangs around my house most nights. I, I didn’t ask about sooner because I was afraid you’d think it was fuck me or lose our friendship, but if I can help you in a kinda self-serving way, I’m down.”

Joseph shakes his head, “That’s sweet, but you’re not the only one with concerns. How can I be sure you actually want me, and you’re not just offering because you want to help?”

Barclay snaps his fingers, “You can read my deepest desires, right? How about you take a peek and tell me what you see?”

Joseph closes his eyes, tail twitching as he concentrates, and Barclay gets the distinct pleasure of watching his face as he learns the truth. 

“Oh. OH. Um, you’re not kidding about how badly you want me. And some of this makes the reaction you had the one time I showed up in a suit make way more sense. But we can explore that later.” His eyes, now-pitch black, snap open, “right now, big guy, I’ll do whatever you want, however you want it.” 

“In that case” Barclay catches Joseph just as he tries for a kiss, “how about you tell me what you want?”

“Barclay, I’m an incubus, I want whatever the person I’m feeding on wants.”

“Nuhuh, I don’t buy that, babe. You’re telling me there’s nothing that’s your favorite, or that you’re curious about?” He teases their lips together.

“N-no?”

“You’re not getting any kisses until you tell me the truth.”

Joseph narrows his eyes with a “hmmph.” Then, as if it’s his greatest secret, he whispers, “I want to know what it’s like to get a massage as foreplay. No one’s ever wanted it or offered, and it sounds so nice.”

Barclay rewards him with a kiss. The demon melts against him, slides a forked tongue into his mouth to tease it. Clawed fingers tug at his shirt until Joseph remembers he can do magic and renders them both naked with a wave of the hand.

When they part, Joseph licks his lips, “Holy hell, Barclay, that kiss was enough to make me feel better than I did this morning. Tastes nice too, like coffee with lots of cream.”

“So, coffee the way you like it.” Barclay nudges him backwards, rolls him over as the incubus keeps talking. 

“Usually it’s a neutral sweetness. I wonder, hmm, maybe it has something to do with the fact you’re attracted to me, as in the actual meOHohhhhhhh” he flattens into the bed like a cat on a sunny floor as Barclay digs his thumbs under his shoulder blades. 

“You can theorize later babe, I promise. Right now, all you gotta do is let me rub you down. Uh, can you magic up some oil or something? It’ll feel better if--great, thanks.” Barclay sets the lit massage candle safely on the nightstand, waiting for it to melt. 

“Should I put my human form back on now that I can hold it?”

“Nope” he traces his hands up parallel patches of silver, pinches one horn playfully, “I love that version of you, but this one is so, so, fucking hot. Now” be kisses the base of his neck, “relax.”

Drizzling liquid wax down his spine makes the incubus moan, but the sound is nothing compared to what happens when he starts kneading him like dough. It’s a yowl, rough and inelegant in a way Joseph never is, and Barclay dedicates the next fifteen minutes to finding new ways to trigger it. He’s so beautiful, it’s like touching a painting, a galaxy, a miracle.

By the time he reaches his lower back the incubus is grinding on the bed and Barclay is half-hard from touching him. He grips Joseph’s ass, parting it enough to grind between the cheeks. 

“Don’t tease” his tail delivers a scolding thwack to Barclays cheek. The cook growls, turning his head to capture the offending appendage between his teeth.

“OHholyffffffuckinghell.” Joseph rips the blanket as he flails, “no one’s ever thought to do that before and now I really wish they had.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He ignores his growing hard-on in favor of nipping and kissing his way down Joseph’s tail. It’s velvety, feels like nothing he’s ever experienced as it twitches and trembles under his tongue. The base gets an extra-hard lovebite and Joseph moans, rolling over so fast he nearly catches Barclay in the face with his cock. And what a cock, on the narrow side but covered in swirling ridges.

“Holy shit, you just get hotter and hotter.”

“Th-thank you, big guy, now for gods sake pleeEEEase fuck me.” He whimpers adorably when Barclay licks up his shaft. 

“Okay babe, we can fuck. But I think…” he grabs the incubus, flipping them so Joseph straddles him, “I want you to fuck me.”

Joseph registers his words and his eyes glow deep blue. 

“Uh, is that a good thing?”

“Yes, big guy, it’s the closest I get to having my pupils dilate when aroused. And since you look so good underneath me, I’ll expedite things” he snaps his fingers and Barclay inhales in surprise; his ass is dripping lube and stretched like someone just pulled three fingers away from it.

“Fuck yeah” he spreads his legs, “c’mon blue eyes, don’t make me wait anymoreOHFUCK, fuck, yeah, like that.” He hooks his legs around Joseph as the incubus thrusts all the way in. Joseph kisses in precise shapes up and down his face, even as his hips keep a rapid, erratic rhythm. 

“Shit, shit, Barclay you taste so good, feel so good, please, please don’t stop touching me.”

“Not sure I could ever keep my hands to myself again, babe, god you’re so fucking handsomeAH, hah, someone got a praise kink?” He gasps out laughter as Joseph fucks him harder with each kind word. The ridges on his cock are solid enough that Barclay feels them with each drag, and it sets his toes curling.

“Maybe a little one” the incubus smiles against his neck, “though kink is a distinctly human concept and a complex one-SHITfuck, fuck please do that again.” He kisses Barclay hard as the human obligingly pulls his tail with one hand and smacks his ass with the other. Teeth catch Barclay’s lower lip on the next tug, a moan spilling from Josephs’ mouth down his chin. 

“That’s it baby, fuck me while I rough you up, fuck, Joseph, your dick is fucking perfect, never gonna want another one, c’mon please, I’m close.”

Joseph sits up, grinning joyfully, and grips Barclays cock. It’s a masterful handjob, because how could a sex demon give anything else, but what strikes Barclay most is how happy and relaxed Joseph is. The incubus admitted once that even when he was having sex, he constantly worried about fulfilling the fantasy to earn enough energy to feed. Yet here he’s laughing and smiling, eyes aglow as he works Barclay up to the best orgasm of his life. 

It means something; Barclay only hopes Joseph will stay in his life long enough for him to figure out what. 

He’s too busy with the sparks behind his eyelids and the pleasure coursing down from his head to his toes to note that Joseph managed to make them cum at the same time. The incubus pushes a hand through his fair, swooping it back and off his face, as he notes this accomplishment. 

“I want to run a marathon. Or maybe go hiking, or swim the lake. I have so much energy. Barclay, it’s amazing. You, it’s never been like that before. It’s felt good, but that was fucking transcendent. 

“No fucking kidding.” Barclay shifts onto his side, nestling up against him so his head is under Joseph’s chin. He yawns, kisses a blue shoulder, “but you might have to burn off some energy without me. You wore me out, blue eyes.”

Joseph adjusts his arms so he’s holding him, “If I stay the night, can I walk Sass with you in the morning?”

Barclay nods, already falling asleep, safe in the knowledge that Joseph is okay and, better yet, so fond of him that his eyes are still glowing, “You got a deal, babe.”

[untaemedqueen]

SandB Series

Alpha Werewolf!Taehyung x Mate!Reader

Chapter 8.

Genre: Some Fluff

The trip from your forest home to the dock to get on the boat was roughly around four hours but it felt like one hundred with the wolves. Like a never ending road trip that made you want to throw yourself out of the car and just say fuck it, goodbye. You've always hated being in a car for long periods of time, hence why you never went on college camping trips even when Namjoon and Namhyuk begged you to go.

In this Audi, as spacious as it was, you still felt suffocated. Something Taehyung had become aware of within the first hour, he could smell the annoyance and nervousness radiating off of you. Once his hand was snugly intertwined with yours, he never let it go. Jeongguk, Jimin and Hoseok had taken up the spaces in the back with each pup they protect. Although, putting those three together, it was like a laughter bomb was thrown into the back of the car. They were voraciously loud, and yet, they never woke up a single pup as if the babies were comfortable with the horrendously loud noise. 

Your attention would sometimes fall to your mate if you weren't staring at the scenery out the window of fast moving trees and waterways. Taehyung in the driver's seat, laughing at something one of the guys had said or singing along to the music on the radio made him seem so different. You've always just seen the Alpha in him, always protective and iron willed. The image of your man, his hand thrown casually up on the steering wheel; silver mullet blowing in the breeze, it was a beautiful sight to take in. He would look over at you when the car stopped from time to time. Squeezing your hand or kissing the back of your hand, trying to reassure you that everything was going to be just fine and you were grateful for that. 

The other boys made up for it in the back too. Every so often, stopping their chatter to mewl at something their pup was in the car seat next to them."Noona! Noona! Look! Hyera is gripping my finger!" You could feel the love for the new youngest pack members and it made your heart sing.

"Tae. You gotta pull over man." Hoseok murmured from the back, your mates eyes flickering up to the rear view mirror. "What's wrong?"

"Oh fuck." Jimin whispers before putting his face mask over his nose. "Rina shit, a lot."

The laughter that sputtered from both you and your mate had the boys in the back stiffening. Your body clung to his as you both wracked with giggles. Taehyung's eyes even began to water from the laughter as he pulled over to the service road. He wipes his eyes with his shirt before turning off the car and hopping out. You opened your door finally, happy to be able to stretch and the sight that greets you is a welcome one. Tae opens up the car door before pulling out his second born daughter. He picks her up before sniffing her back and grimacing, his face scrunches up eyebrows wrinkling before looking around to a picnic table closeby. "Guk, bring me the diaper bag, please."

You lean against the car, arms folding as you watch your mate press sloppy kisses to his daughter's cheek. "Did my Rina eat so well? Hmm? Thanks to mommy?" Your heart feels light as Jeongguk jumps out of the car to attend to his Alpha. You can hear Taehyung whispering sweet nothings to your daughter as she writhes around in his arms. The sky catches your attention, perfectly cerulean with small wisps of grey clouds coming in to litter the Earth with rain. It’s with a sigh as you watch your mate change your daughter that you realize how perfect your life has become. All from a simple run in at a park.

“I can’t believe we’re going home.” You hear Jimin mutter as he rubs Baekhyeon’s chest. Your head turns to him as you catch the dock up ahead. “You’re from Summit?” 

Everyone in the car nods before your best friend speaks up, “You remember when we first met and I told you that we were chaebols?” You somewhat recall the drunken night at the forest party when you were first introduced to all of the wolves. 

“What do you do?” You ask gaining that liquid courage you’re happy to have with you at the moment. 

“I’m also a college student, all of my friends are. We don’t really need to go to college but it’s fun.” He says before downing his cup of his alcohol in one shot. 

“You don’t need to go to college?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not really. We have to take over our parent’s companies.” Jimin says with a shrug. 

“You’re a chaebol?” You ask fingering at the plastic lip of your cup. Jimin rolls his eyes at the word.

“Yeah, I guess. I hate that word.” He says before waving at incoming figures. 

 You nod to your best friend as your arms dangle over the passenger’s seat. Jimin leans back in his seat before shrugging, “The ‘companies’ that I was talking about are all in Summit. We come from High Houses, all blue blood wolves through and through. All our families are prime members of the FWWA and we’ll take their places someday.”

You can’t help but think of Taehyung, his parents were in this Lunaris Chamber. Would he even have a place to stay? Out of the corner of your eye you can see your mate smirk and you turn your attention to him.

“I can hear your thoughts baby, don’t forget that. Even if it’s random, sometimes your mind is screaming,” You blanch at his words, a rosy tint gracing your cheeks as you clear your throat, “My aunt is the head chairman of the FWWA. We’ll be very welcome.”

“He’s like royalty.” Jeongguk whispers enthusiastically and you find yourself raising an eyebrow. Royalty? Why have you never known this before?

“Because it wasn’t important.” Taehyung mutters to you as you pull up to the dock, “Stop doing that, stop reading my thoughts.” 

You shove his shoulder as he chuckles. He lowers his window before hooking his hand behind your neck and pulling your body closer to his. His lips find your forehead before connecting his forehead to yours. “Stop thinking so loud then.”

It was on the boat that you got the rundown of Summit and everything it entails. You can’t say that you were nervous to get there once learning that Alpha wolves don’t find their mates in humans almost ever and the wolves in Summit might see your children as tainted blood. 

Taehyung kicks back his driver's seat as you sail toward Jeju island, his seat presses against Jimin’s legs and he growls gently at the Alpha who only smirks before closing his eyes. “Y/N, when you get there, just be yourself. Be bold and strong like always and no one will fuck with you.”

You turn to Hoseok who looks at you sternly which is a vast contrast of how he normally is. You swallow thickly before nodding and looking at Taehyung who, even with his eyes closed holds up his hand for you to take it. “What else do I have to know about this place? I mean, okay, I know about this Lunaris Chamber and it was opened releasing really dangerous peopl-”

“They aren’t people, they aren’t wolves. They’re fucking mongrels.” Taehyung cuts you off with a whisper before opening one eye, his blue irises steeled over with venomous grit. You nod slowly rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand before continuing, “Okay, mongrels. Got it. Your families are super important. What else?” 

“Once we get to High Ground, our family neighborhood. You sit your pretty little ass in that house for protection until all of the mongrels are put back in their pretty little cage.” Taehyung mumbles before the boat horn sounds off. 

“Oh, and try not to eat anything out of the Amaranth Forest.” Hoseok pipes up from the back of the car before Jeongguk hands you your daughter for feeding time.

“Amaranth Forest...Got it.”

The drive from the Jeju Island dock to where you were now was relatively short, only about a half an hours drive to this forest tree line. The other Audi pulls up beside yours and you look at Seokjin in the driver’s seat who stares ahead. The car was riddled with tension, no one made a sound for the last fifteen minutes. You can tell Taehyung is strung up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing tall as he looks over at you. “Take a deep breath and hold it. You might feel sick once we enter.” 

You look out at the trees in front of you before raising an eyebrow. “You’re going to drive into those trees?” 

“They aren’t actually trees. It’s a barrier of fae magic. You’ll see. Take a deep breath, baby.” You do as told, filling your lungs up with oxygen, your cheeks puffing up making your mate wrinkle his nose. “Hand.”

Your hand goes into his before he revs the car engine loudly. “We’re home.” Jeongguk’s voice comes above a whisper before Taehyung is zooming into the trees, your eyes close as an immediate reaction and your stomach hitches within your body as you whimper. Your body tingles before going numb and you feel your mind reel before snapping back into place. The pups let out a short whinge before being comforted by their protectors and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut tighter, the edges crinkling deeper as your mate grips your hand.

“You can open your eyes, my love.”

“Wah.” Is the first thing you mumble as your eyes open. This was a town nestled in a bunch of trees, although now seeing it you’re well aware that there was not a tree in sight. It was a civilization hidden away from human eyes. Taehyung pulls your face to look at him quickly and the first thing you do is realize just how handsome he is. Your body feels alive at his touch, his fingers sending jolts of what feels like electrical currents over your skin. Your heart rate picks up and all sense has been thrown from your mind. “She’s got it.” Hoseok whispers with a laugh. You feel your loins begin to coil, arms shooting up to your mates before trying to cross the middle console.

Your fiance’s face radiates a certain glow that entices you towards him. He looks practically ethereal as your body begins to warm within the glow. “Baby. Hey, baby.” Taehyung whispers gently as your body scrambles to jump on him. “Fuck you’re so hot.” 

He chuckles gently before pushing you off of him as you lick your lips. His shove is ignored by you as your body begins to move towards him on its own. Your mind screams out with lust, eyelids drooping as you go to cross the console once more. “I love you.”

His smile is breathtaking, one that makes you want to jump his bones even more as he pushes against your shoulders with an iota of his strength. “I love you too, baby girl. Jeongguk, hold her to the chair.” You gasp gently as hands grab at your arms before pressing you into your seat. Jimin’s hand shields your face from looking at your mates and within seconds you feel your mind relaxing. You almost feel drowsy as your stomach uncoils, head sluggishly lolling to the side.

“Well, now we know for absolute certainty that she was made for him.” Jimin jeers, the laughter that emits through the car makes your eyebrows wrinkle. Trying to jump his bones feels almost as if it’s a distant memory now as you look at the buildings that begin to pass as Taehyung continues to drive. 

This civilization is absolutely stunning, buildings made out of shiny grey material, streaks and hard edges define each stone and you can’t help but think that you’ve never seen this material before. “What is it?” You ask Jeongguk as his chin hooks over your shoulder keeping you pinned to the passenger seat. “Wolframite. It was found here and it’s our biggest export.” 

The pun doesn’t go unnoticed and you snort before the car stops short. Your attention is drawn to a woman with almost iridescent skin and purple eyes. Her attention turns to you and you gasp at the beauty of her outfit. It looks as if she is almost wearing nothing but a sheen wrap of silk around her body. Jewels cascade from her white hair down around her shielding her nipples from view. Her purple eyes narrow at the car before bowing her head. “One of the fae.” Taehyung notifies you, the sound of his voice makes your heart pick up. Your eyes hooding over before you try to scramble out of Guk’s touch.

“Don’t speak, it’ll drive her insane.” Hoseok chides the Alpha only to be greeted with a growl.  “It’s at least nice to know that she wants more babies, hmm?” 

His voice is deep, bass dropping an octave as he teases you and you struggle against the youngests grip as he tries to whisper calmly into your ear, your head thrashes wildly and you feel your mind become hooded once more. You could feel your gut twirling and coiling with every word uttered from your mates lips. “Wouldn’t you like that, baby? Get pregnant with more pups already?” You whine loudly and he laughs gently before continuing to drive. 

The roads are dirt, there doesn’t seem to be anything incredibly industrial about this place. It was perfect and you find yourself wondering in your sluggish state why they would have left it in the first place. “That’s the Amaranth Forest, don’t wander in alone. Fae are ruthless creatures that love to pick fun with others.” It wasn’t a forest per se, more like a vineyard that seems to lead to a flower garden. There was a statue in the middle surrounded by a fountain and the water within it was a shade of light purple. It looks inviting and you find yourself wanting to shove open the car door and enter it. Jeongguk holds you down as you shift towards the door before whining again.

“Man, she is just so susceptible.” Your best friend giggles and Taehyung pushes his hands out of the way. “Look at me.” 

Your head snaps to his and you lick your lips before struggling against the youngest. “Her eyes are gold.” Your hand reaches up to touch him and he smiles gently at you. His hand caresses your cheek before winking and you feel a fresh wave of arousal sweep over you before leaning over and biting Jeongguk’s arm. 

“Ow! Noona!” His arms recoil from you in pain and you jump over the console. Mind somewhere else as you kiss over Taehyung’s jaw, he hums gently before putting his hands on your sides. “I know. I know. I love you, too.” 

You straddle him, fingers carding through his silver hair as your teeth nibble along the skin of his neck. You can feel his chest rumble gently before putting both hands on your face and kissing you gently. “I know, but you gotta stay still baby. You’re too worked up.” 

You pout against him, hand reaching down to his crotch before you get hauled off of him. You thrash around with a scream before being planted back into the passenger's seat with a huff. “God!” Jeongguk whines as Jimin sits on the middle console to shield your mate from you. “I’ll take care of you soon, baby. I promise.” You whine loudly as the car begins to drive off.

The car finally stops in front of a gated community. Large houses all made of wolframite sit in a semicircle. The gates are made of iron with wolves embossed in the middle and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat to look at everything. Each house was almost the size of a mansion, with cobblestone steps leading up to the fronts. Long pillars of wolframite hold up the front of their structures and you can’t help but drop your jaw at the utter richness this place exudes. You take in similar looking folks like the ones that stopped in front of your cars tending to plants or cleaning the outside of the mansions as they fly around. “Wow!” 

It feels almost as if you’re in another universe, something straight out of a storybook. The gates begin to open and you find yourself lowering your window to peek your head out. There’s a scent on the breeze that catches you, lavender and you find yourself becoming enraptured with this place. Your mind reels and yet, at the same time you feel comfortable, like this is the place you were always meant to be. 

“We’re home. Welcome to High Ground.” 

[themockingcrows]

Home Run Movie Night

Davepetasprite/John This is NOT SFW! AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25475938 cw: nooks and bulges, nook eating, nook fingering, anal sex, interspecies sex, First Time, bodily fluids, sloppy makeouts

After a delightful first date (Second Base Desserts), the plan had been made for a movie night. Though now that the movie is playing and the scene is set, it's not nearly as important as the attractive sprite that's already got a plan of their own in mind!

     Popcorn? Check.

     Soda? Check.

     Movies? Double check, he had them in spades thanks to his previous years of collecting only the finest in cinematic entertainment.

     Comfy spot? He’d made a blanket fort earlier, encasing the television area in sheets and blankets and pillows aplenty so it was soft and cozy to cuddle up in. And probably to make out in, if he was being honest and hopeful.

     Everything else…? A bit of a tossup. While John didn’t want to be presumptuous, his time in the scouts as a young child and being his father’s son had entangled within him a strong sense of preparedness. After the intensity of his date with Davepeta before, the grinding, the making out, he had no idea when the time would be right to go further beyond that. Supposedly when the time was right he’d know, but what about being prepared? He had some lube, and some condoms but there was a problem.

     What kind of genitals did Davepeta even have…? Did they need something special for them? What anatomy was going to be worked with? Did they both need condoms? Were sprites able to get pregnant or anything? To add to the mystery, there was bird DNA and troll DNA at work as well, so who the fuck even knew what all there was in play. Maybe, just like the rest of the sprite, it’d be something one of a kind and special only to them. Which was all well and dandy but it really fed into his lingering anxiety about what to anticipate. It was like a really sexy Christmas present lurking under his tree, waiting for the eventual day that he might get to peek inside of it and see what had been teasing him for so long.

     Would it be like his daydreams of the last few weeks since their date? Though even that data was limited. He registered warm and soft and wet but as soon as he tried to see what he was dealing with down there his mind blanked out and focused on remembering their face instead. Which was nice, considering it had been what had driven him crazy to begin with, but not the nicest when he was trying to think of different things while getting himself off. Fap fodder was plenty with his imagination normally when he needed it, but the specifics of the sprite eluded him as much as a fae on a summer’s night.

     John paced his living room double checking everything for the fourth time before the doorbell rang, making him jump out of his skin and scramble around the corner at breakneck speed. He froze in front of the door, collected himself, smoothed his hair back, checked his breath and finally opened up with a grin.

     Perfect.

     They were absolutely perfect, even dressed down casual, and John couldn’t wrap his fucking head around how it was even possible. Davepeta was wearing some basketball shorts that hung loose around their muscular thighs, flip flops, and a baggy tie dye t-shirt that complemented their opalescent skin. They also, John realized after the initial hug of greeting, weren’t wearing a bra this time. Absolute comfort was in mind here obviously, yet John couldn’t forget the feeling of their breast from their date or the way their lips tasted.

     Today they tasted like iced mocha and caramel sauce when they kissed him, taking their time in the greeting before pulling back with a curled grin.

     “Thanks for having me ofur today, John. I’m sure we’ll have an ameowzing time!” they said excitedly, wings ruffling in excitement before folding against their back.

     “If I’ve got anything to say about it, it’ll be ama- uh. Ameowzing,” John said, gesturing grandly for his datemate to enter. Datemate? Were they dating now? He’d never officially asked, and Davepeta never mentioned it, but this was two dates in now so… probably? Maybe?

     Fuck, why did he overthing so many things at the worst possible time.

     “Ohhhh shit look at this, you really purrpared didn’t you!” Davepeta said, kicking off their sandals before racing to the pillow fort, leaning down to peer inside. “Wow, there’s even light inside…”

     “Yeah, I don’t want to toot my own horn here but I’m a pretty much a pillow fort master,” John said, thumbs hooking into the front of his own t-shirt as if he were holding suspenders. He caught side of Davepeta’s tail disappearing into the canopied space before dropping the act with a laugh and following them inside. Davepeta had already secured a comfortable spot near the snacks, curling up on their side in view of the television while leaving plenty of space for John to nestle good and close. Presumably, based on the fact one hand was patting the pillowy ground invitingly, he was indeed meant to be that close.

     The first movie was selected by John, Davepeta too busy giggling at all the choices and saying they sounded terrible to be of much assistance, but they didn’t wind up watching much of it. Ten minutes in and there was a hand on John’s thigh, kneading at the flesh rhythmically and distracting him. Fifteen in and Davepeta had crawled onto part of his lap, resting their head on his thigh. Twenty, and Davepeta was settled on their back on John’s lap like a cat who’d successfully snuck onto a comfy spot, and at some point after that they’d started to kiss and he lost all track of time. Who needed time when someone this attractive wanted to lock lips with you? They could always watch the movie over again, but for now it made for a nice background noise in the cozy nest he’d made.

     “Did you miss me?” they breathed against his mouth.

     “Of course I did, it’s just not the same without you around,” John admitted, stroking at their bright hair, the strands aglow with neon hues. 

     “Did you think about what we did before?” they teased, that predatory grin sliding so easily across their face that John had to flush and bite his lip. Of course he’d thought about it. He’d thought about it daily. Nightly. It was impossible to not hyper-focus on, being a first of its kind for him.

     “Yeah. A lot,” John said, trailing a finger from their hair to their delicately pointed ear, stroking along the point and the length of it till he was stroking the side of their face instead.

     “You know I’m not wearing a bra,” they said matter of factly, almost out of the blue were it not for the distinct link to their previous encounter. “But do you want to know a secret?”

     “Sure,” John said, throat feeling a bit tight. Okay, they were being pretty bold already, maybe more touching was in his future.

     Davepeta perched on their elbows and curled their long body upwards towards John’s ear, whispering a warm breath into it.

     “The panties match.”

     John’s throat ran dry. He swallowed once, twice, three times before he had enough saliva to do it properly, and then pulled back to look down at Davepeta on his lap. They were grinning and waggling their eyebrows playfully before breaking out into a laugh like bells, pushing up from their comfy spot on his lap to rise up onto their knees. Their palms soon rested on John’s knees, keeping him from adjusting his position as they leaned up to kiss him gently once more.

     “Do you want to see…?”

     “I.”

     “You?”

     “I uh. Y-. ...Yeah,” he finally got out, kicking himself mentally over and over for stammering. Stupid! Stupiiiiiiiid! You’re supposed to be suave and in control of the situation, or at least participating better! Where did all the preparedness go?

     “Let’s have some snacks and watch some of the movie, and we can play it like a game,” they suggested. “Every so often, I’ll ditch a piece of clothing, and you have to do the same. Eventually the whole kittenkaboodle’ll be gone.”

     “Wait, what?”

     Davepeta grinned that same calculating grin again, fangs glinting. “John, my end goal is to both be naked and the only reason I’m not taking it all off in one go is to see mew squirm a bit.”

     “Th-! That seems like cheating!” John said, mind racing. They weren’t wearing much to begin with. Naked. Both naked. Oh, God, was this really happening?

     “Seems pretty fair to the person only wearing two pieces of clothes. Here, I’ll start,” Davepeta said before reaching back behind themselves to tug at their shirt. John could hear the gradual give of velcro before the shirt was loosening and coming off. They held the loose fabric in front of their chest for a moment, eyeing John closely before letting it drop.

     Though John had only felt them previously, seeing was an entirely different prospect, and his hands dropped immediately to his lap to quell the response it invoked. Davepeta’s breasts were lovely, really, better than pictures of normal humans John had sneaked peeks of online. Part of it was because of the pearly sheen their skin had, highlights brighter and shadows softer, nipples perky in the cool air of the living room. Or were they like that because of what they were doing together...? The thought that, somehow, John was responsible for that perkiness was appealing.

     “Well?” Davepeta said, setting their shirt aside.

     “Well what,” John asked. Fuck, was he supposed to do something? His hands lifted and hovered as if he were going to grasp both breasts at once, but went no further. Something wasn’t connecting properly in his brain and he knew it, think think think Egbert come on!

     “Your shirt…?” Davepeta said. “Mew need to ditch yours too meow. Follow the leader, remember?”

     John’s face flared red before he scrambled to tuck his head down into his shirt like a turtle, hands rushing to the bottom to rip it up over his face and toss the bundled fabric aside. There wasn’t nearly as much of interest on John as Davepeta, thin chest flat, edges of his ribs visible. John had always hoped that someday he’d be as strong as his father, as wide, yet so far he hadn’t filled out like that. Muscle mass just wasn’t in the cards yet.

     Davepeta seemed comfortable being shirtless, which made sense considering half of their makeup was someone who’d been able to be shirtless any time he wanted in his life. ...Was Nepeta able to do the same? John didn’t understand a lot of things about trolls, maybe troll girls were able to go shirtless all the time too on Alternia. Was that a weird thing to ask? It was probably a weird thing to ask. And probably weirder that he couldn’t help but keep gawking over now and then at what rested above the popcorn. It was boobs John, grow up. It’s not like he’d never seen boobs before, he’d even felt them before!

     …

     Boobs.

     “Can we start the movie over?” Davepeta asked, reclining leisurely onto the blankets and cushions beside John after grabbing the popcorn bowl. They took a handful and fed a kernel at a time into their mouth, crunching idly. “I wasn’t paying attention before. Whoops.”

     “Uhm. Yeah,” John said, taking a few seconds too long to go and fetch the remote control, clicking back through the scenes to the beginning. What movie even was this? He had no interest in the film anymore, not so long as the sprite lay beside him half naked and tempting.

     What would happen if he just moved the popcorn bucket and rolled over on top of them for a kiss? Would they be happy? Annoyed? Would he ruin the mood, or make it even better? Augh, Davepeta was being a tease and this was so confusing to decipher! It didn’t help that every time he peeked over seemed to be the time Davepeta was casually eating popcorn and looking right back at him with a grin. They knew the power they held, and they were using every inch of it for evil it seemed.

     John reached for some popcorn, though he wasn’t in the mood for snacks anymore. All he wanted to do was kiss Davepeta again, and lose himself like he’d started to earlier. Or did he? After all, the sprite was only wearing shorts now. There was apparently nothing on underneath them. When those came off, Davepeta would be naked, and he’d be stuck in his underwear a bit longer unless he could man up enough to yank them down too. Or had Davepeta planned that as well?

     With thoughts running through his head, John barely even noticed at first when Davepeta’s hand crept back to his thigh and began to knead as the movie played. They spread their fingers out, feeling along the fabric of his pants now and then before curling up to squeeze repeatedly, working from his outer thigh to his inner thigh and-

     That was a hand on his dick. Oh, God, that was a hand on his dick and one glance down at Davepeta proved that it was entirely intentional and holy shit it felt nice. John bit his lip to keep quiet, not wanting to groan immediately, and closed his eyes instead. Don’t pop a boner. Don’t get a boner immediately. Come on, John, don’t get a boner immediately. Don’t. Do not. Resist. RESIST.

     He failed, and Davepeta’s grip grew gentler, a fond stroking through the fabric of his pants instead of the heavy kneading of before.

     Mercy?

     No. Not from the look on their face, it wasn’t. Davepeta was glancing at him from beneath hooded eyes, calculating, gauging his reactions to different pressure up till he started to softly pant. Only then did they remove their hand and set aside the popcorn bowl.

     Dry mouthed, John watched as Davepeta hooked their thumbs into the hem of their shorts and tugged downwards, exposing the flat, muscular plane of their stomach and abdomen, the crest of their hips, and…

     What was that.

     John squinted a bit, confused. At first glance, he thought he was dealing with a normal human vulva, albeit tinted shades of green and orange. Yet… the longer he looked at it, the more it appeared that something down there was moving.

     “Like what you see?” Davepeta asked, striking a pose as they dangled their shorts off one foot showily, the angle of their leg and thigh drawing John’s line of sight before it reverted back to the focus point of his interest. Yes, something was definitely moving down there, gently peeking out of their body as if it had a mind of its own before withdrawing once more.

     “I uhm. Well. Yes, just. ...Uh,” John stammered, not sure what to say. Davepeta was naked, of course he liked what he saw. He just. Didn’t know exactly what he was liking in that moment.

     Grinning broader, Davepeta suddenly rolled and settled half atop John’s torso, hands fussing at the front of his pants. “Your turn!”

     Wait, he was still hard. Oh, God, wait, he was still hard!

     A tussle, half wrestling half resisting later, and John was left in his underwear with his pants around his knees. Davepeta was settled astride his thighs proudly, tail whipping left and right over his shins, the top of their head propping up one of the droopier blankets of the fort. This wasn’t ideal. Or maybe it was, considering John had breasts in his face and a clearer view of what he’d been gawking at before.

     A tentabulge, he thought it was called. It sounded familiar at least. A slim tendril was shyly peeking out and feeling around Davepeta’s skin before sliding back into its bodily sheathe the longer John looked. A part of him had expected a humanoid dick considering Dave was involved, and he’d steeled himself for that, but this was definitely new. Prehensile and new. Intriguing. Shyly he reached a finger forward and watched as the reaching tendril wrapped around it for a moment before retracting again. He felt Davepeta shiver on his lap and bit his lip anxiously.

     Holy shit, this was really happening wasn’t it. His first time and it was going to be with some fairly alien equipment. A glance up towards Davepeta’s face made any apprehension disappear though. They were smiling at him lovingly, apparently glad that he approved of what he saw. Maybe even relieved. Had anyone else done anything with the sprite…? Was this a bit of a first for both of them?

     Without thinking, John reached up and hooked his arms around Davepeta’s narrow hips, resting his hands square on their ass for stability and for the chance to give a knead of his own. They hummed throatily and shuffled their wings before leaning forward, resting their arms around his neck.

     “Do mew have any idea how long I’ve wanted you to see me like this…?” they asked. “The only reason I didn’t jump you in the forest was because it felt better to wait. And look now! We’ve got a fort all our own!”

     John’s cuddle cave was apparently going to be used for much lewder purposes tonight, and all he could think in the moment was to praise himself for the lights and the television placement that kept the pale, pearly flesh in front of him in perfect lighting to savor and enjoy. They were warm beneath his hands and against his chest, and when they kissed him again it was sweet and tender.

     Shit, they’d really wanted this hadn’t they. Well. At least the feeling was mutual. Davepeta sank down so they were sitting on John’s thigh and he blinked in confusion when he felt something wet against his skin. Apparently the bulge wasn’t the only thing Davepeta was in possession of, though it took John an embarrassingly long time to try to remember the name he’d heard before for it. If this was a part of troll anatomy and not something entirely different, it was a nook, right? Was that the same as a vagina? Or entirely different? It was at an angle that John couldn’t exactly see it, only feel it against his thigh, which wasn’t enough.

     Davepeta seemed to read his mind, and kissed against his nape for a moment.

     “Would mew like to see what you’re dealing with…?”

     John swallowed briefly before giving an excited nod. Yes, he wanted to get a clear look. And maybe a touch. And maybe more. He’d seen porn before, yeah, and he had some ideas of what he wanted to do already on his own, but it all would depend on what there physically was on the field. What would feel good and what wouldn’t to them?

     If he could make Davepeta feel good, he’d call it a successful night.

     Scooting backwards and freeing John’s legs, Davepeta glanced to a free space on the pillow fort’s floor and took it, reclining carefully to avoid damaging their wings. They propped up on their elbows to watch John’s face before parting their legs and giving him a full view of their genitals, the bulge unfurling further than before in excitement. It coiled against itself, a shimmering green with orange highlights here and there along its length, and spread some kind of a liquid that John could only assume was similar to lubrication or pre-come. It had to be something after all, right? The nook rested below it, a much more benign and inactive opening that seemed to have traces of the same fluid from the bulge that restlessly coiled and reached above it. For a brief moment it looked as if the bulge was going to probe that nook on its own, and it was enough to snap John out of his stupor.

     This was real.

     Davepeta was naked in front of him, showing their most intimate parts, and he’d not even commented. Jesus, where were his manners. Fascination aside, he was grateful to be gifted like this in the first place. John cleared his throat and shucked his pants the rest of the way  before crawling closer to Davepeta’s legs, tracing a hand over their shin and calf a few times.

     “You’re gorgeous.”

     That seemed to be the right thing to say, judging from the neon glow of a blush that dusted their pearly cheeks.

     “Can I uhm,” he started, then took a breath and let it out. “...Can I touch you?”

     “I thought you’d never ask.”

     With permission obtained and Davepeta already parting their legs a bit further to accommodate him, John sank down to his elbows and scooted closer. He pressed a kiss to their thigh a few times, spangling their skin with it, before approaching the focus of his interest. The bulge was even larger than before, more of its girth emerging even as John drew closer, till it finally stopped and stood proudly on display.

     Davepeta was bigger than him, and while part of John was a little embarrassed about it, the realization was also… kind of hot? What would that feel like inside of him? Oh, fuck, was he honestly thinking about tackling that monster tonight? He reached a hand forward to gently grasp the bulge, taking in the slick texture of it, the tense coil that was all muscle grasping at him, feeling his fingers and palm. The sprite shivered again and curled their toes. ...Hmm, apparently he didn’t really need to do all that much to make it feel good.

     Yet, not satisfied with that alone, John leaned forwards bravely to give the bulge a lick. Oral was standard as foreplay, right? Touching and tasting was what he’d seen in porn, the fact it felt like something was trying to taste him back was just a bonus apparently. Whatever fluid coated it had a neutral flavor, the scent being entirely Davepeta in origin. It was kind of addictive really. John held still as the tentabulge stretched and reached for his face, feeling around wetly before he tipped his head and opened his mouth in offer.

     “A-ah!” Davepeta twitched harshly as John closed his lips, giving an experimental suck on the appendage. Eager, he tried to figure out how to allow more into his mouth, before having to yank back with a cough as the bulge headed straight for his throat.

     “Fuck,” he hissed.

     “Sorry,” the sprite mumbled, biting their lip. Shit. They looked almost shy like that, so different from their normal in-your-face attitude and existence. Loud and proud.

     “No, no, it’s okay. Let me just…” he murmured, wrangling the excited bulge with one hand and giving an experimental squeeze before dipping his head down lower to explore the nook with his tongue. A lick to the outside, a few flat lathes of his tongue, and he was pressing harder to breach the opening.

     Sweet. Sweet and moist and pliant, and oh God he could feel Davepeta’s thighs against his ears as their legs swung closer, squeezing at him encouragingly. He felt hands in his hair, combing gently, petting at him. He didn’t need to be told twice. Closing his eyes, John busied himself with Davepeta’s nook with his mouth and fingers of one hand while his other fist dealt with the muscular bulge, alternating between squeezing and just letting it explore and rub against his fingers.

     “John,” they crooned, voice sweet and higher than usual, breathy. “John, John, John, John…!”

     Apparently just feeling the situation out was the right thing to do. And honestly? He could get used to this. Every time he licked or probed with a finger, the sprite twittered and convulsed against him, squeezing his head with their thighs. Every time his fist moved they were trying to spread their knees apart, winding up in this rhythmic writhing motion that felt so natural John couldn’t imagine anything better.

     Eventually though, he pulled back to look up at Davepeta, up past their flat stomach and beautiful breasts to their upturned, breathless face. He just sat there a moment, taking it all in. Savoring it. Stamping it on a part of his brain that would never forget how that pearly skin looked with multicolored lights from a long forgotten movie flashing over it, how his name had sounded coming from their passionately parted lips.

     Beautiful. Handsome. Striking.

     Perfect.

     ...Mostly perfect. The situation did have one down side John realized, shifting till he was on his knees. His underwear was in the way, and by now was uncomfortable. A damp spot at the front of the tent showed the amount of restraint he’d had till now, finally wiggling them down and off. The relief he felt was immediate, making him wonder why he hadn’t ditched them sooner to join the sprite in the nudist party.

     Wait.

     Shit.

     Preparedness.

     This was the moment, wasn’t it? This was that moment where things went even further that he’d been warned he’d recognize, and now that he recognized it John didn’t know what to do. He looked from Davepeta to the makeshift doorway of the fort to the table drawer where a few things lay inside in waiting. Did he need any of the things in there? That bulge wouldn’t fit a condom, and it seemed to be making its own lubrication, but-

     “John,” Davepeta suddenly cooed, drawing his attention back. “You look like a deer in headlights.”

     “Sorry, I’m just… I don’t know what I need next,” he admitted. “I mean. Condoms and stuff. I don’t know.”

     “I can’t get pregnant,” Davepeta said. “At least I’m pretty sure I can’t. There’s too much blended up inside of me to manage that, especially when you add the game code in there. And trolls don’t work that way either. So I think we’re good on that front,” they promised, shifting their legs. John hadn’t noticed it till now, but the fluid the bulge was leaving behind had a faint green tint to it, as if a tiny drop of food dye had been placed in a bucket of liquid. “As for me needing something… all I need is mew.”

     Davepeta was up and moving again then, coming closer to John and placing a hand on his cock, hand giving a few strokes till he shuddered and twitched, more than willing to lay back when pressed. Their bulge snaked forward and wrapped around his length once they removed their hand and shuffled even closer, squeezing it like a python before beginning to wiggle excitedly, tip probing here and there to try finding a waiting nook instead of testes and a taint.

     “How uh-,” John started, only to be cut off when Davepeta kissed him, pressing their bodies against each other warmly and tangling their legs. There already seemed to be a plan in motion, he just needed to catch up with it and try to think of anything other than the bulge that was continuing to squeeze and writhe against his dick.

     Oh.

     Oh, okay, that was something he could think about.

     Being braver, John deepened the kiss and rolled Davepeta to their back once more, pressing them down. He felt their knees against his hips tighten and hold on, bulge squeezing harder along his dick. This might work. The bulge was long enough that it could probably reach his ass while he was exploring their nook. They could both enjoy themselves at the same time, right? Or would it have been easier to have them be reverse cowgirl..?

     No.

     This felt good, this felt right. The squeeze of legs at his hips, the encouraging scratch of nails against his upper back and between his shoulder blades, the warm press of their tongue against his own and the way they were already trying to grind together without words felt natural. John’s hips hitched briefly when the bulge unfurled from his length and went lower, squeezing at his testicles before slipping between his legs and probing at his entrance.

     “Take a breath,” Davepeta murmured softly when they felt John tense up, kissing him again till he relaxed.

     It wasn’t as bad as he’d worried it might be, not by far. Thanks to the gradual increase in size, the slickness, and the gentleness of the appendage, what started as a few slick passes over his hole soon gave way to what felt like a small finger, expanding upwards into something more arousing as he adjusted bit by bit to the intrusion.

     Davepeta moaned softly against his lips again, and John decided to make his move, hips rocking gently as he blindly probed a few times, missing the nook by a mile. The sprite reached down to grab hold of him and adjusted their bodies together, aligning him smoothly. The situation sank in again. A forgotten movie played in the background, some heroic line or another being said to an audience that had much better things on their mind. Popcorn rested in its bowl on a cushion nearby, clothes lay abandoned in piles, and two naked bodies rested in the center of a blanket fort that had been made with care.

     John held his breath and sank forward… and groaned with bliss as warmth enveloped his cock, the bulge pressing deeper at the same time and stiffening reflexively. They were plenty wet, allowing him to slide in bit by shaking bit as they continued to lazily kiss, the entire affair leisurely and sweet. When they were flush together, John went still to let the bulge probe deeper, giving a jerk when he felt the firm brush against his prostate. Radio static ran down his spine in a harsh tingle.

     “Keep doing that,” John gasped urgently against Davepeta’s lips as he shakily pulled his hips back and pressed forward again. A few steady times of this and John felt confident enough to start thrusting in a pattern, pace staggered occasionally as the bulge began to imitate him, withdrawing and thrusting deeper before squirming in place wetly.

     For all the times that John had imagined his first time, it had been nothing like this. He’d always imagined he’d wind up with some girl or another, that his first time would be in a bed, that he might even be married first in some cases. The living room floor was never going to be the same for him again. 

     Davepeta had begun to make needy, throaty sounds whenever the kisses broke, gasps and moans, soft cries. Begging. Their voice split occasionally, sometimes a bit lower like Dave’s and sometimes higher like Nepeta’s must have sounded like, sometimes two at once before blending back together properly to Davepeta’s usual range.

     John braced his legs and did the best he could do, hammering forwards and pulling back, trying to keep his movements smooth despite the assault against his prostate, fucking hard enough that Davepeta’s breasts bounced against his own chest hypnotically. They kissed messily, wetly. They bit. They scratched.

     Salty. Sweet. Bitter.

     “Horns,” they begged, rolling their head till John reached up and caught hold of them, bracing his weight on his elbows to accommodate the grab and hold maneuver, rubbing his thumbs along the ridges.

     The sprite tensed and babbled a warning against John’s mouth, too many words and not enough breath, but John couldn’t stop even if he wanted to right then. He bowed his head and thrust harder and faster, giving a guess as to what was coming.

     He wasn’t prepared.

     No sooner had John come with a strangled cry, Davepeta did the same. ...And they came. ...And came. ...And came.

     John felt fluid down his thighs and against his dick, felt Davepeta biting his lower lip and their knees squeezing his hips to trap him in place. No worries there, he was too sensitive to move anywhere fast, and even though the bulge had stilled it was still a firm presence in the back of his mind until it slowly withdrew. More wetness on his legs had John shakily propping up on his hands to glance down, taking in the green tinted mess on the pillows and sheets before he lay back down atop his datemate and sighed.

     “Is that normal? Like. Does that happen every time?”

     “It’s normal,” they promised, breathless, hands reaching up to toy with John’s messy hair, the tufts winding up even more wild thanks to their ministrations.

     He felt… the same. Somehow, John had assumed that losing his virginity would make him feel different. Instead, he just felt sticky and tired and warm and so full of love for the person beneath him that it felt like his heart was going to explode. John rolled to his side and pulled Davepeta with him, pulling one of their long legs up over his hips to stroke at while they lazily kissed at his face and lips, basking in afterglow together.

     The movie had reached its own climax apparently, but it was just noise. The popcorn lay abandoned, forgotten, the soda untouched. They had the entire night to themselves, with nobody to interrupt them.

     “...Wanna do it again?” Davepeta purred, smirking wickedly despite the tiredness.

     “Already?”

     “Yeah. I’ve gotten a taste of mew and I’m purroud to say I want more,” said the sprite, licking their lips. “Though this time… I want to be on top.”

     Dazed and still more than a little out of it, John could only nod. 

     Yeah. Sure.

     Why not.

     Sex was nice, he’d like more when his dick cooperated with him again.

     “You’re not letting me get any sleep tonight, are you,” John said, realization sinking in.

     “Nope.”

     “I’m gonna be sore tomorrow, huh.”

     “Purrobably,” they said, shifting their weight to get John onto his back, hands sliding along his chest and arms till they reached his wrists, pinning them down easily.

     “...Will it be worth it?” he asked, lips parting as the sprite leaned down for a kiss, licking his bottom lip playfully.

“Absolutely.”

[melyaliz]

The Yellow Umbrella pt.5

Masterlist 

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: Eating cookies and whip cream -NOT- off each other 

Pairing: Demon Lord! Loki x Reader

Notes: I’ve been struggling with this story. Like I have the outline and everything but… I feel just a little lost with where I am going. So I may take a small break. Idk.  I think it’s more I want it to be funnier but I don’t think it is. Then again I’m reading it over several times. 

Or it’s just me 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

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

Loki sat up looking around the bedroom, curled up in a soft blanket and cuddled up with a stuffed pig. His new friend. His pig was getting more action with him than his secretaries at the moment. He had been here more in the past few days than his own bedroom really. 

Maybe he was acquiring a taste for cotton over silk. 

Getting up he noticed the fluffy pink robe laying on the floor. Picking it up he gracefully wrapped it over his body. Sadly there were no slippers. It did, much to his delight, have a hood with bunny ears.

“Well don’t you look adorable” the lady of cotton said looking up as Loki walked into the living room. She was scrolling on her phone as the tv played. A plate of cookies and can of whipped cream on the table in front of her. Loki just nodded, pulling the hood over making the bunny ears flop in front of his face. 

“I felt like I needed some sugar this morning,” she said, noticing him looking at her place of sugar. “If you want some you will have to risk Mr Mewoly”

“For those cookies, I will take the risk.” Loki’s pink ears bounced as he made his way to the kitchen. A pot of coffee sat on the counter as well. Opening the cabinet where he remembered seeing Yue pull out a mug he was greeted by a line of cream cups all etched with dark lettering  “Coffee, Hot chocolate, Tea” as well as some bowls that said soup pasta, and cereal. 

Pulling out an appropriate Coffee mug and helping himself to come coffee before risking his life grabbing a few cookies from the demonic cat’s body. Was it just him or did it’s eyes look even eviler than he remembered? Maybe he should get one of those, to guard his office when he isn't around. 

“I like your informinate dishware” Loki said, flopping onto the couch next to Yue who smiled at him. 

“It’s so I don’t forget.” she said as Loki grabbed her feet draping them over his lap before,“By the way, these cookies are amazing. Totally worth the risk.”

Loki nodded as he added a healthy amount of whip cream to his cookie before taking a bite, “Jeff, my assistant, got them for me.” 

“Oh fancy you have an assistant.”

“That I do.” Loki said, taking another bite of his cookie. His free hand gently stroked her ankle as he studied the TV. The two twins were battling some crazy puppets or something. He wasn’t totally paying attention, still waking up.  

“So your assistant’s name is Jeff huh. Do you also have a name?” Yue asked. Loki paused licking sweet cream from his lips as she flashed him a cheeky grin, “See what I did there, smooth.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, She was as cute as her choice of robes and dishware, “Very” taking the last bite of his cookie he savored the taste for a moment before speaking again,  “Loki… and you?”

“Loki?” she let out a light laugh “what are you some norweedic god or something? Did you parents hate you? Like Thor I could see but… Loki? Wasn’t he like… the bad guy”

“Not bad necessarily… more like... smarter than everyone else.” 

“Still, Loki? Why not just say Hades, at least that bitch was loyal.”   

“Laugh it up, what’s your name?” 

“Yue”

He tried, but really he didn’t have much to say to that, “it fits you.” he said nodding. It did. It fit her like everything else in this apartment. It was just so… her. 

“So…” she said settling back into her couch of comfort, “Please don’t take this the wrong way but, I like this…. thing we have going.”

“Speaking of loyalty.” Loki said, raising an eyebrow, “I don’t really do relationships… I mean this has been fun, don’t get me wrong but, I’m not about to feed you some pomegranate seeds or whatever.”

“No, that’s what I mean. I like THIS” she motioned between the two of them, “No strings attached. Feeling like we don’t own anything to the other person.” 

“Well in that case I’m all for this thing we have.” 

“So you’ll keep stopping by?”

“I’m only a text away.” 

Nodding Yue pulled out her phone handing it to him, “I’m here for texting. I like to do things with my friends.” 

“Never want to get in the middle of that.” Loki said taking the phone entering his number, “I can always meet after if you're down.” 

“Deal” 

Her hand was still out so Loki took it and shook. Making it officially official. His slender fingers wrapping around her own. 

It felt like the beginning of something. But the fact was it kind of was.

The beginning of nothing. 

-----

“So you guys basically shook on being hook up buddies?” Sammie asked as she took a cookie from the plate that was on the table. 

“I think it’s cute” Riley said, “did you get him some snacks or are we special?”

“Well he actually got us those cookies,” Yue nodded down the now demolished plate of cookies. She had brought over to Sammie’s apartment for movie time, she would say night but it was more early evening. They were watching clueless with a bowl of carrots. And cookies because Yue refused to spend the whole night eating only healthy food even if it was for the memes. 

“He’s hot AND he gets your amazing sweets!?!” Riley moaned, “Are we sure this guy isn’t fake?” 

“Like what?” Sammie shickred, “Is he a cardboard cutout?” 

“Yes, he’s just got a cutout of Brendon Urie and I have been carrying him around pretending it’s my side piece.”

“I like how this cardboard cutout isn’t even your boyfriend. He’s a side piece which means you can sleep with other cardboard cutouts.” Sammie picked at the hole in her sock that had been slowly growing since the movie started. 

“I have Paul Rudd bringing me cake for lunch and Frank Sinatra delivering pizza for dinner.” 

“Living the dream” Riley chuckled, “Oh I have an idea! After this movie  let’s find you something to help him eat your cookie” holding up the image of a local sex shop on her google maps. “They close late like a good sex shop too.” 

“Really Riley?” Sammie said looking up at the shop skeptically. “We have like 6 other movies planned.” 

“We could always watch them after. Go on a quick adventure.” 

“Adventure!” Yue giggled, “Come on Sammie maybe we can find you something tasteful for your presentation on Monday.” 

“Yes I’m sure the Magic Cherry will have JUST what I need to help me pitch my website design on Monday.”  

“Something Leather maybe? I’m sure the party planning company will be super into it.” 

“Yue’s right, after all they ARE all about partying.” 

Sammie fought back a smile as she tossed Yue a hoodie. “Let’s just get there before they close. I don’t want to be those jerks who are there when the workers want to leave.” 

Yue nodded following her friends out bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Feeling giddy with excitement. “This is the craziest thing I have ever done.” 

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

“It was the craziest thing I have ever done” 

“That’s where you have been? Doing the craziest thing ever?” Jeff asked as he came up behind Loki holding his black umbrella. Loki surveyed the dark road as they both slowly walked under the large red bridge. 

“Yep we watched this show called Gravity Falls.” 

“What?” 

“It’s a popular children’s cartoon.” 

“A children’s show?” 

“We ate cookies with whip cream.” 

“Off each other?” 

“Out of bowls,” Loki pulled out a pair of white rubber gloves from his pocket, putting them on. 

“Oh, did you… was she young?” 

“For human standards no, you know I don’t mess with anyone who is not within reason.” 

“Cookies for breakfast is the craziest thing you have ever done? Really?” Jeff sighed, closing the umbrella shaking it. Most of the rain had slowed at this point and from where they were standing it wasn’t really doing much good anyway. 

Loki chuckled slowly crouching down. Holding out his hand he waited for Jeff to hand him his cane. Which he did. “I wore a fluffy pink robe with bunny ears.”

“I guess it’s important to have new experiences.” his assistant sniffed looking around tugging his coat closer to himself. 

Loki nodded using the sharp end of his cane to poke at something. 

A dead body. Half its face already decaying in the muddy ground, eyes missing. Around it several others. All their eyes missing bits of their body decaying.

“You sent these vampires out only two days ago.” Jeff, “You think it’s the faceless?” 

“No” Loki sighed standing up, “This is something else. Something worse.” 

“What should I tell the others?” 

“Stay in packs and if anyone knows anything to come to me right away.” Loki turned surveying the site that lay before them. He had sent for the vampires from Seattle to go down to LA to check on Brandon after the LA demon hadn’t shown up for their meeting. While not unusual it hadn’t sat right with Loki. 

Now with almost ten vampires laying here dead and the rest missing he was starting to worry. If someone had overthrown Brandon they would normally approach Loki. New terf lords would want to make a truce with the most powerful Demon Lord on this continent. 

No news, in this case, meant nothing good. 

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

“They have butt plugs that have tails,” Riley said holding a pretty pink and glitter one, “And a unicorn horn, I could fulfill all my little kid dreams and become a unicorn.” 

“Please don't refer to yourself as a little girl in here” Sammie frowned, “It’s weird.”

“Ok, sorry sorry.” Riley said looking over the other items on the wall. “I have been wanting to try these,” she said, pulling a pair of nipple clamps. Sammie, already feeling VERY out of place just looked down at her phone nodding.

“Get whatever you want, I just don’t want to picture you and Sam… doing stuff.” 

“Ok fine,” Riley said, grabbing ones she thought she would like before walking over to Yue who was looking over a rack of panties.

“Find anything fun?” 

“Yeah a few things, What do you think?” she asked, holding up a lacy lingerie. A pretty green color.  

“Love the color” Riley nodded before grabbing a pair of fluffy black cuffs, “Get these too,” 

“Ok but I want the pink ones,” Yue giggled thinking about the morning where Loki had dressed up in her bunny robe. He looked good in it. Under all that eyeliner and studds he was just a big dork. She found it hilarious and would do everything to keep messing with that side for her own amusement. 

“So are you guys meeting up tonight?” Sammie asked, coming up nodding toward the set Yue was holding approving. 

“No he hasn’t texted me.” 

“So what about late dinner? Gary was saying we should go out to this speakeasy place.”

“Oh let me text Sam,” Riley said, “He’s been wanting to go there. Yue you can just find your Paul Rudd while we are out.”

“Or just enjoy the company I’m with.” Yue snickered, “I don’t have to spend every night hooking up.” 

“What’s the fun in that?” The cashier chuckled as she took Yue’s things. 

“A girl needs at least one night to herself.” 

“Well you got the wrong stuff for a night by yourself.” the cashier said as she wrapped everything up, “But I do have some dildos on sale if you want some you time.” 

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

Sam had responded almost immediately that he would pick the girls up. Something about a long week and just wanting to be with his lady. So rushing back to their apartment the girls quickly changed out of their jeans and hoodies into more slutty hipster attire. (A girl’s gotta dress the occasion after all) 

Once she was more speakeasy and less “I am cuddling with my two best friends watching movies” Yue grabbed her bag and walked outside her apartment. After locking her door she turned almost running into a tall dark haired man. Dressed in a red leather jacket he was smoking a cigarette. Yue’s eyes instantly went up to the man’s bold white streak that ran across the front of his black hair. Blue eyes looking down at her amused. 

“Oh, excuse me.” 

The large man shrugged holding out his cigarette pack “Want one?” 

Yue shook her head, thrusting her keys back into her purse, “I’m good thanks.” 

He nodded putting the pack away, “You’re all dressed up, going somewhere fun?” 

“Yeah just dinner with friends.” 

“Nice, I’m visiting a friend, know any good places to go?” 

“Uh well we are going to Idain Basian but if you want something more happening, maybe like Valencia street?” 

“Oh sounds good, I’m not big on waterfronts.” 

“Well I hate to break it to you but San Francisco is basically an island.” 

This earned her another chuckle. “True, well have a good night and be careful there’s a full moon out tonight, never know what crazy you'll run into.” 

Yue nodded walking toward the gate of the complex where her friends were waiting, turning back she got one last look at the man, for a moment she could have sworn it looked like his eyes glowed. 

Maybe she was watching too many cartoons. 

Or maybe he was just a bunch of gnomes in a trench coat. 

No, she was definitely watching too many cartoons. 

-GET TAGGED!- 

Masterlist 

Forever tag:  @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear  @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr  @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep  @cdwmtjb8

Story:  @irwin-hood @hit-th3r0ck @cruel-kitten @boofrarti @i-miukimiuki @mmimagine-40 @mynameofuser @pia-1000 @angelgl16 @the-fifth-marauder03 @plutos-deamonchild @frenchfrostpudding @carydorse @neverleturheartshow2​ @sebhiddleston​ @probsjosh @dracaryspowpow @andrea20967​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @olive-tini @albinotigerpython @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @alessia--winchester 

[r-ahh-mi]

Nice To Meet You

Pairing: (sorta) Dom!Rami Malek x fem!Reader

Warnings: Sexual content (slight sub/dom references and masturbation) & swearing.

A/N: Had to google what omegele was but heeyyyyy (for those of you who also don’t know what it is, based on my google skills I think it’s like a chatroom, but with webcams???). Hope you enjoy xx

Permanent Tag List: @lovelymalekk @mezzomercury @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash@amcquivey @malek-lover @rogers-wristbands @deacytits

-

Being a stylist for the wealthy was a job you adored both because of the pay and because of all the clients you have got to work with thus far. On the other hand when the down time came about that’s when you really felt the quiet and stillness. For a portion of your day you were able to listen in on these conversations about lives that were much more elaborate and more noteworthy than your own; it was easy for you to lose yourself in the client's lives. That is until you headed home to your modest one bedroom apartment filled with silence which really only served as a bitter reminder of how different you would like your life to be.

It wasn’t that you were a total recluse, it was merely a matter of you and your friends being in different stages in your individual lives. Of course, now that you and your friends were in the age group of everyone getting married and starting families, it was difficult to pick up the phone and have a spontaneous night out with a friend, especially when those friends were busy with children and romantic partners... Thankfully, a few years ago you remembered hearing about this website that one of your college roommates would frequent when they were seeking some entertainment so you decided to give it a try. Fast forward to today, this website has become your Sunday night ritual as you comfortably situated yourself on your couch with a glass of white wine and your body covered up with a soft throw blanket. You were only slightly embarrassed that you had resorted to a webcam chatroom as a way to seek out some sort of socialization, but at least it was an outlet for you to not feel the loneliness at such a high intensity, plus, you would much rather be spending your time like this than at some sleazy bar filled with rowdy people.

After a couple (failed) attempts at conversation with a random stranger, your finger anxiously tapped on the side of your laptop as the website prompted you that it would shortly be connecting you with another random user. In the meantime, you worked to fix up your appearance as you  tried to maintain some stability out of your messy, tangled hair and face that was only adorned in a coat of mascara. However, before you could finish your primping, a tan face that was mainly covered up by shadows looked back at you from the screen. You realized you’d been caught fixing yourself up as the stranger gently chuckled a light hearted laugh, instantly making your cheeks grow a rosier shade.

For a minute you both just looked at your screens, studying the other and the background of whatever room or location either of you had set ourselves up in. Your eyes moved with the stranger as he moved to flick on a nearby lamp, instantly illuminating his face as you took in the beautiful man in front of you..well virtually in front of you. You were self conscious, so terribly self conscious and hoping that this man wanted nothing more than to hit the ‘end chat’ button so you wouldn’t have to revel in the embarrassment with this gorgeous creature.

“So I guess i’m going to get the first word in, huh?”

His voice was much deeper than you had imagined, but seeing as you had only known the guy for ten seconds, you weren’t even able to make a proper judgement of him, or at least not a fair one. Nevertheless, his voice only added to the natural smolder of his eyes and defined bones set in his cheeks - Who is this guy? He can’t be real.

“Not much of a talker? This may not be a good way for you to meet people then.” You thought his voice was deep, but the chuckle he added on to his last sentence was much, much deeper, but there wasn’t much time to analyze the depth of his vocal chords. You needed to severely get on top of scolding yourself for simply staring and thinking of him rather than actually speaking words to him and getting to know the friendly stranger who was clearly much better than you when it came to talking to people.

“Sorry..” Your voice drifted and you knew you sounded like a timid child which was odd for you. You weren’t the most confident person, but usually you had no issues talking to people, but there was just something about this man. Maybe it was his unexpected good looks; who knows.

“You’re fine. I can ask some questions if that’ll make you feel more comfortable.” You paired a nod with a friendly smile as you attempted to try to save this conversation that was already going down hill before it ever really began.

“Alright”, the stranger started, “What do you do for a living? Oh! and if anything is too personal, feel free to decline or leave the conversation all together. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You nodded and smiled again, even though you were sure words would’ve done much, much better, but your tongue seemed to forget it’s muscular purpose at that very moment.

“I’m a stylist.” Your voice was croaked as you cleared your throat in a nervous fashion.

“She speaks!” 

He was funny; of fucking course he was funny. Does anyone need to be that equally good looking and funny? Seems so unnecessary, but maybe you’re just bitter to be meeting such a rare creature, like himself, while, in your mind, you looked like a two on a one to ten scale

“So a stylist, yeah? Who do you dress..like celebrities?”

“Exactly”, you nodded. “I dress all the rich people on TV.”

He nodded and smiled with the smallest bit of hesitancy. “Who's the best and worst clients you’ve ever worked with?”

Of course you could list the two people off the top of your head, but this job was much too high profile for you to be throwing names around and not expect to end up in you losing a client, or worse, your job.

“Now I would tell you..”

“Yes, yes. Go on”, He was anxiously awaiting my answer in a very boyish manor - god he’s cute.

“...but if I did, then I could be out of a job so that will have to stay with me.”

He quirked his eyebrow, “I guess that’s fair.”

“Your turn!” you said almost sporadically, surprising even yourself at your moment of sheer boldness. This stranger was barely working to make me feel comfortable and here you were feeling, ashamedly, very comfy and willing to socialize with this person.

“My turn?”

“Yeah, your turn. Tell me what you do for a living.”

His rather large eyes seemed to bug out even more as he nervously licked his lips before tucking the bottom pout behind his teeth.

“Uhm..”

“Oh, don’t tell me. You’re a porn star aren’t you?”

He clasped his hands together as he threw his head back in a massive fit of laughter. “How’d you know?!”

You shrugged, “I'm an A+ guesser.”

“Are you now? Actually, you’re not too far off-”

“Oh god. You ARE a porn star aren’t you?”

The stranger was mid sip of water as he waved his hand in front of the camera, “No, no - I'm an actor and before you ask, not an adult film star, just your regular, average, plain, old actor.”

“Damn it. I was really hoping you were a porn star.” Although your tone was joking, you were extremely intrigued by this man's career choice and couldn’t help but want to hear more about it. However, the stranger interrupted your train of thought before you could ask any serious questions about his line of work.

“Why do you say that?”

“Say what?”

“Why do you wish I was a porn star? Are you like everyone else on this site?”

You couldn’t help but attempt to hide the blush of your cheeks behind your palms as you pressed them firmly against the skin of your face. “You mean a horn ball dying to get off? Sadly, it’s only partially true.”

“Partially?” He quirked his eyebrow in a very playful yet curious expression.

“Oh please.” You teased as you took a quick sip of your wine, almost knocking it over as you sat it back down onto the coffee table.

“Playing shy now?”

You shrugged your shoulders shyly, moving your eyes away from the screen as they now rested on your hands that were sat relaxed on top of the keyboard.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“I don’t know, can you?” You pressed further, loving the way his facial features contorted just as he was about to break out into soft laughter.

“May I?”

“May you what?” 

He huffed, this time breaking out into a tiny fit of giggles as he let the palms of his hands run down his cheeks until they landed in front of him, one crossing over the other as he rested his chin on his arms.

“Alright, alright. Ask me whatever you want.”

“Thank you,'' he replied softly as he brought his head back up again so he sat with proper posture. 

“So, what brings you here tonight?”

You nibbled your lip nervously, “I suppose I just needed something to fill the void.”

You knew your eyes  had drifted away from the screen and flown to the nearest item you could let your focus remain on, a nervous habit that has always stuck with you in situations that tested your comfort zone.

“I’m going to assume you are here for the same reason?”

He bounced his eyes back and forth to match his moving head as his tousle of curls followed his movements. “Something like that.”

You paused and looked at him quizzically. His words were mysterious, yet obviously hinting that he wasn’t here simply to just chat, but then what was he here to do?

“Can I be honest with you?”

You nearly jumped out of your comfy pajamas at his shift in tone of voice which was much more serious now. “Of course you can. I’m--uh--all ears.”

His eyes remained glued to yours as if there wasn’t a laptop computer and who even knows how many miles stood between the both of you. The eeriest part was his stare. It wasn’t much like the ones you had both exchanged before. This one was much darker; there was something there that you couldn’t quite pinpoint no matter how much you squint your own eyes to attempt to figure that out.

“I came here looking for someone to have some... fun with.”

Your lungs felt as though they plummeted towards your stomach as you tried to take in one full breath, but the sound of his words were making that part a little difficult. You couldn’t help but question his words.

“...and by fun you mean?”

He smiled hesitantly then sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, “I think you know what I'm talking about.”

You did. You one-hundred percent, very well knew exactly what he was hinting at..just like anyone else on this sight, he wasn’t merely looking for someone to chat with, he was looking for something that was a little less innocent than that.

“So..what does that have to do with me then?”

He shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes, “I mean I would like your consent to...”, his mouth formed into a cocky smile as the tip of his tongue poked through his cheek, “...have fun with you. If that sounds like something you’d be in to.”

His words hit you like a strong gust of wind, nearly knocking the wind out of you as you sat there, mouth agape with both amusing and confusing thoughts running through your head. You were finding it hard to believe that someone like him was really interested in doing what you were sure he was talking about, but you also didn’t want to assume that he wanted to well, to put it bluntly, fuck over webcam

“Of course I would be!” You voice was exuding over excitement, making you slightly cower back.

He chuckled a few minutes before his hands reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it effortlessly over his head as he now sat with his tan chest naked for your eyes to devour. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would feel underneath your palms as you racked them up and down the smooth indents from his pectoral muscles. How he’d flinch as your hands dragged lower and lower until they were at the top of his jeans.

“Your turn.”

You were nervous as you began to lift your shirt over my head, hesitating slightly as you began to second guess yourself. Your body was less than colossal and you didn’t want to disappoint this person who was very, very attractive and clearly worthy of seeing a body that was up to his level of “hotness”.  As if reading your mind, he moved his face closer to his computer, propping his chin up on his knuckles as he watched you in an almost hypnotic state.

“Let me see you sweetheart.” His voice was husky and smooth as he encouraged you to lift the fabric up and over my head. 

Your hair seemed to get messy from the movements as you attempted to smooth the hairs back down, causing the handsome stranger to laugh slightly, but still keep his eyes focused on you.

“Is it okay if I tell you what to do?”

You couldn’t nod fast enough, which caused him to grin yet again with those pearly whites as he nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Show me those panties.”

You felt your stomach flex solely from his words as you quickly stood up from your seated position, leaving your waist completely at his eye level. You pulled the thin shorts down your legs, making the stranger let out a faint ‘mmm’ of a hum as he took in the newly visible red lace that covered your pubic area, leaving just enough to the imagination for the stranger to take in and appreciate.

“Turn around for me sweetie.” His voice was much deeper as he started leaning his entire body backwards into the chair while I slowly began spinning my body around until I was no longer facing him.

“Fuck, you have a beautiful ass.”

I turned back around, checking that this in fact was not a dream or some sort of sick joke and the eyeful I got was enough to confirm to me that he was indeed completely serious and deeply aroused by me. The stranger had moved his palm to his groin area as he gently palmed his visible bulge all the while keeping his eyes on me.

“Tell me if I make you uncomfortable okay? I want you to enjoy this just as much as me.”

“Trust me”, I paused briefly to admire the way he was pleasuring himself, “I’m comfortable with a lot of things.” 

He smirked, watching me as I turned back around so I was facing him, letting my elbows rest near where my laptop was resting, giving the stranger a good eyeful of my cleavage which I may or may not have done purposefully.

“Good...now, take off that bra of yours please.”

I blushed as I smiled timidly while lifting my hands slowly to my back until they came in contact with the cold metal as. Quickly. My fingers worked to unhook the hooks as I felt the material that was previously wrapped snugly around my chest begin to loosen, but not totally fall from my body just yet.

“Are we being shy?” I shrugged teasingly, keeping my eyes away from my computer screen as one of my bra straps started to drift further and further down my arm, unbeknownst to me, showing off the very top of my breast.

“Or are we being a tease?” His eyes were squinted with arousal as I answered him with yet another shrug while his hand subtly slipped underneath the fabric of his boxer briefs.

I watched on as he began slowly toying with himself, making my mouth naturally fall slightly open as I watched him, quite entranced.

“I can be a bit of a tease sometimes.” My tone of voice had shifted completely, making me slightly shocked how my body naturally went from it’s normal tone to one that was higher pitched and almost sounding like the soft, but erotic voices of those female actresses from old movies.

“I do like a good tease, but right now I want to see those tits baby.”

Without hesitation, I let my arms fall to my sides, allowing the straps to completely fall off of my arms and down onto the floor as I let my bare chest hit the cold air of my apartment.

The stranger licked his lips as his eyes glanced down to my chest.  “Can you touch them for me?”

I allowed my palm to fully grasp my breasts in each of my hands as I began kneading them gently, making my head roll back and my eyes close as I began to indulge in the pleasure I was bringing upon myself.

“If I were with you right now, I’d have my mouth all over them. Licking, sucking, biting, making your body wiggle with pleasure. Would you like that?”

My headed nodded quickly as I let out a small whine while I continued massaging my chest until eventually my fingers grazed down to pinch one of my nipples, making me bite my lip and exhale loudly through my nose.

“Does that feel good?” 

I nodded, but that reply didn’t seem good enough for him.

“Use your words dear. Tell me, does that feel good?”

I began to nod again, just before catching myself. “Yes, yes that feels really good.”

The stranger chuckled, “You catch on quick just like the good girl I knew you were.”

Suddenly, I became aware of just how aroused I was as the wetness between my legs began to seep through my panties, making me physically feel my arousal as it kissed my thighs.

“Do I get to see more of you?”

The stranger immediately ceased his hand movement as he pulled his veiny looking arm away from underneath the black material of his briefs. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course it’s what I want, that’s why I asked.”

He pursed his lips, “Sassy, huh?”

“My reply wouldn’t have to be sassy if you wouldn’t ask such stupid questions.”

Suddenly his face began to shift as his cheeks began to heat up to a reddish hue and his nostrils flaring ever so slightly as he huffed deep breaths.  “Fine, I'll get my cock out, just like my little slut wants.”

A shiver passed through my body at his harsh and much less friendly tone as I watched him stand up to, letting me fully be able to appreciate his shirtless physique as my eyes traced down the veins and marks and muscles and the v shaped indents of his hip bones; god I could go on and bore you with copious more details.

My attention drew back to his hands as he hooked his thick thumbs under the waistband of his underwear, moving the fabric down until his hard, thick cock sprung out from under the draped material. My mouth watered just thinking of how beautiful his shaft looked as it swelled with arousal as drops of precum made his tip especially shiny looking.

“Is this what you want?,” He smirked, noticing my loss for words as my mind wandered to how good he would taste was I able to properly please him with my mouth.

I playfully shrugged, “Not bad.”

“Not bad? That’s it?”

I giggled, noticing how much he genuinely took my teasing words to heart. “You’re gorgeous, now calm down Mr. big shot actor.”

“Oh, I see how it is.” The stranger took a seat back in his chair, legs spread, cock still glistening with his own arousal, and a smirk on his face. He looked terribly cocky like he knew exactly how much I wanted him right now and how appetizing I truly thought he was.

“Now I showed you what I look like naked..think it’s only fair if I get to see you now, don’t you think?”

My mind fell into a slight panic for a reason I wasn’t too sure of. I’d already stripped myself down to just my knickers, why should I be afraid to discard the last remaining piece of thin material from my body? This stranger was kind enough and was clearly aroused by what he had seen so far, plus, it wasn’t as if he was being a total creep, in fact he was being anything but.

To assist me in my moment of courage, I took the last sip of my glass of wine, earning a small laugh from the other end of my computer. “You’re beautiful, please don’t be nervous.”

The reassuring words from the stranger definitely eased my nerves, and made me blush profusely as I gave him a weak smile and moved the lace fabric down my hips until they reached my ankles where I kicked them to who knows where.

“Jesus.” His words came out breathless as he watched my every move as I teetered my body weight, shifting nervously from my left to my right. 

“Now what?”

“Eager are we? I just got you naked and you’re already eager to move on; let me enjoy the sight of you for a second please.”

He smirked as he rested his hands on the tops of his thighs, his cock had deflated ever so slightly, but it was still visible that he was turned on. “How about you touch yourself for me.”

Quickly, I let my hand fall to my thighs as I slowly started parting them. 

“You really are eager aren’t you?”

“Huh?” I asked, stopping my hands movements.

“How about you tease yourself first. Think you can do that for me?”

I moved my hands back so they rested on either side of my body, feeling the soft material of the couch on my fingertips. “I can definitely do that.”

He smirked, “Close your eyes and listen to my words, okay?”

“Okay”, I nodded.

The stranger took a deep breath as he gave his first round of instructions. “Start with your hands caressing your collarbones. Gently gliding those fingertips over the skin, feeling the softness as you slowly move your fingers down towards your breasts. Touch them, I know you want to.”

I obeyed his every word, moving my hands from my collar to my bare breasts, feeling my skin tingle with every word and movement he told me to make. With my eyes shut, I could almost picture it was his larger hands giving me such intimate touches and caresses, making goosebumps appear all over my arms as my hands began once again kneading at each of my breasts.

“Does that feel nice?”

I hummed a ‘mmhmm’ as my eyes instinctively closed while I allowed the pleasure to fully take over my actions.

The slickness between my legs was growing by the minute (or rather by each word he spoke) as my fingers danced there way to each of my breasts, letting the much stronger electric feeling take over my body in complete pleasure as I let my fingers pinch at my nipples, giving the pink velvety soft knubs twist and turns that made me writhe and moan.

“That’s it, just like that--how about you move your hand down towards your stomach now.”

Keeping my eyes closed, I obeyed him immediately as my fingers waltzed down my ribs until they reached my belly button. Soon his soothing yet stern voice was in my ear again.

“Imagine my hands are on you, moving along the curve of your body and gently squeezing your middle--fuck, you have no idea how much I wish I was touching you right now.”

I peered my eyes open as my hands loved on my curves, catching a glimpse of the lustful eyes of the man opposite me on my laptop screen as he kept his hands on either side of him, gripping the leather fabric of the chair tightly as if he was holding himself back from touching himself. He smiled so slightly as his eyes moved away from my direct contact so he could, I assume, continue watching my hands as they moved across my naked body for him. 

“Now, move down to your thighs. Let’s do the tops of them first; squeeze them in your hands roughly, but not too rough for me baby.”

I don’t hesitate or second guess, in fact i’m more so overjoyed that I'm finally getting some friction in the general area of where I want it the most. Slightly, I spread my legs apart which draws a deep moan from the stranger on the other end of my laptop, I smile as I am very, very aware of why that noise must’ve come out of his lips as I dip my hands down my body to my thighs, giving one of them a gentle squeeze while I caress the other gently.

“Wish I could taste you right now.” The strangers voice was just barely over a whisper.

“Do you now... and what do you think I taste like.” 

I watched as the man's hands twitched beside him just before he rested his palm on his lower stomach where i’m sure it was waiting in agony to give in and touch the skin of his flaming red tip that was standing at complete attention.

“Sweet, so fucking sweet like a freshly picked fruit.” My hands continued loving on the dainty skin of my thighs as the stranger hummed a few more ‘mmm’ sounds while I smiled and reveled in the confidence he was making me gain.

“You’re making me so wet,” I boldly whined out while giving my inner thighs a squeeze--true, I hadn’t been told yet to touch myself there, but with a mouth like him full of vulgar words and phrases, I don’t think the aching in my belly would allow me to not seek out some sort of friction or relief.

“Show me.”

Suddenly my prior bashful ways were beginning to disintegrate with every reaction the stranger gave me anytime I touched myself or said anything remotely provocative and, in a moment of confidence, in the most unladylike way possible, I parted my legs fully and gave him the view he requested.

He sucked in a loud harsh breathe and he bit down incredibly hard onto his blood, surely tasting the small amount of blood that he had drawn in the process. “God damn you’re soaked.”

“Told you so.” I bit my lip and rested the back of my neck against the couch, still keeping up the raking of my fingernails against my thighs.

“Can I touch myself yet?”

The man smirked, “Eager?”

“Of course I am. You’ve been making me tease myself for forever.”

He let out a chuckle as his eyes seemed to zone out for a millisecond as he thought about my request.

“Think you deserve it?” He raised his eyebrow in a cocky manor as his jaw seemed to tense up, making his bone structure that much more prominent.

“Of course I do; I've been obeying your every word haven’t I? Besides, I know you want to watch me do it.” I gave one last squeeze to my thighs before I boldly moved my hand to the lower lips set between my legs, letting my pointer finger trace my slit as my arousal began to coat my finger as I begged the man. “Please.”

He remained silent, switching glances between my hand movements and my eyes as I continued to coax him. “I’m sure the aching in your cock could use some tending to as well. I just want to help you with it.”

He scoffed, “Oh, is that all you want? Could’ve fooled me. You seem like a girl who's just dying to get herself off in front of me.”

“So what if I am?,” I shrugged, allowing my finger to dip slightly between my folds, making me draw in a sharp hissing breath as I watched the stranger mumble some incoherent words under his breath.

“Fine,” he groaned, his eyes now completely trained on the still hand rested between my legs.

Not a second after I was granted permission, I fully plunged my finger between my folds, allowing my eyes to close and feeling how truly wet I was for the first time.

“Don’t touch your clit--not yet.”

I whined, but obeyed him as I dragged my finger down to my opening, allowing one of my fingers to sink into me as a loud moan rolled off my tongue. I heard the stranger groan, making me open my eyes to see him slowly moving his hand around his shaft which looked hot to the touch. His eyes bore eagerly into mine.

“Feel good?,” I questioned even though just by the look of him I knew he was already feeling better than good.

“Mmm--mhm,” he mumbled as I smiled, letting the confidence fill me up knowing that I was making him feel so good just by pleasuring myself.

“Can I add ano--another finger?”

He nodded and I didn’t skip a beat before plunging the two digits inside of myself, letting out a low groan in the process as my hips rolled into my touch.

“You like that huh? Your two fingers buried deep inside you as you think about me.”

I nodded eagerly, but before I could agree too much the stranger began to further assault me with his words.

“My cock would feel so much better baby--filling you up and stretching that tight pussy out. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” His teeth were harshly biting down against his top and bottom row as he began taking long strokes of his cock, but making sure not to pump too quickly in fear that he’d cum much too soon.

My hand soon found one of my breasts as I began to squeeze it while still moving my fingers inside of myself at a nice rhythm. The stranger seemed to match my pace as he began stroking his cock at the same speed. I could almost feel his hot shaft in me as my fingers curled upwards while my thumb came to my clit, putting just enough pressure on it for my legs to jolt slightly from the sensitive nerves being stimulated.

“Think you can do one more finger for me?” The strangers request was breathy and nearly moaned out as I plunged another digit inside of me, feeling the stretch and pleasure in my walls.

“Now fuck yourself for me babe. Show me how bad you want my cock.” As he clenched out the words from between his lips, his hand began pumping his cock at a faster rate and he never took his eyes off of me. I matched his pace again and stared as he began to give into the pleasure; his facial expressions making that clear while his brow furrowed and the pigment on his face becoming increasingly more red tinted.

I switched between imagining that his hand was my hand pumping his girth up and down and occasionally swirling my tongue around his tip so I could taste him properly. On the other hand, I was also imagining that my fingers were his cock that was slicking out of me and then slamming right back in. My hand would be reaching up to the headboard to steady my body as he fucked me relentlessly with one of my legs thrown over his shoulder. His eyes would be boring into mine with intensity, just as he was doing on my computer screen right now.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about”

“I’m thinking about you--you inside m--me.” At this point I could feel the bubbling in my belly as the pleasure was beginning to become stronger and stronger.

“Mhmm, and how does it feel baby?”

“Good--mmmm--so fucking good. Fuck, i’m close.”

My words were soft and whiny as the stranger let out a throaty moan, “Yeah baby, cum for me. Pretend i’m fucking you just as fast as those pretty fingers are pumping inside of you.”

It didn’t take long for my orgasm to rush over me, making my pulse thump roughly throughout my entire body as the massive wave of pleasure coursed through me like an electric shock. Just as I was beginning to come down from my high, I heard the strangled moans of the stranger on the screen opposite me as he pumped his cock as fast as he could while small spurts of cum splashed onto his happy trail. Just the sight of it could make me want to go for another round as I watched him till his hand stilled and he let out a loud, happy sigh as his body relaxed completely back into the chair he was sitting in.

I laughed and stuck my three fingers in my mouth, swirling my tongue around them and being sure to clean them off completely.

He laughed as he ran a hand through his hair with his eyes watching me intently. “God, that’s enough to get me hard again.” 

“I mean I'm up for it if you are,” I joked as we both started laughing together as the silence began to creep into our conversation.

I knew that this was usually the part when people said their goodbyes, but for some reason I didn’t want to and I was dreading for him to say his parting words. Although we hadn’t known each other for more than an hour, he was comforting and he made me feel good, not just physically, but mentally. He made me feel beautiful.

Just then the man let out a loud yawn as he moved his hand in front of his mouth.

“As much as I don’t want to let you go,” He let out another yawn mixed with a laugh, “I think I should probably head to bed. I have a busy day tomorrow.”

I nodded solemnly as I glanced at the clock, now seeing that we had been talking to each other for around three hours now which meant it was far, far into the evening, or technically the wee hours of the morning.

“Thank you for the good time. I really enjoyed talking to you.”

“Oh just the talking part right? I’m sure that was your favorite,” I joked as the stranger broke out into a tired, small laugh just before pursing his lips into a genuine and content smile. 

“Yeah seeing you naked was an exceptional bonus, but I still genuinely loved getting to meet you.”

“I did too,'' I said quietly, resting my chin on my knuckles as I watched his tired, puppy dog eyes blink slowly.

“Goodnight, uh…”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. I like that,” his speech was beginning to get raspier and raspier as the exhaustion from his day began taking a toll on him.

“Goodnight..”

“Rami.”

“Rami. Goodnight Rami.”

And just before our computer screens went black, the stranger waved a small hand at me as he whispered ‘goodnight’ yet again. I could still feel the heat from my cheeks as I scampered off to bed that night with my body sprawled out along the covers.

-

“Your client will be in shortly Y/N.”

 I nodded slowly out of pure annoyance. Not that it was irregular for my clients to show up late, it was just that I was incredibly exhausted from last night's “activities” with a handsome stranger that had kept me up for far too long, so any little thing was setting off my less than patient attitude today.

Only a few minutes later and I could hear a couple voices as they instructed someone on the agenda and why exactly they were here today. I could only assume it was my client and their entourage.

Quickly, I began to wrap up the email I was typing out on my phone just before a deep voice cleared their throat, making me look up at them and insist they give me a short minute or two to finish a work email. However, the figure I saw standing before me was enough to make me drop my phone out of my hands. 

It was him. The guy from last night who was previously only an image on my computer screen and now here he was, in the flesh, standing a couple feet away from me.

He had a confident smirk on his face while I, on the other hand, probably had a jaw dropping to the floor as I grazed my eyes over this human being that was somehow even more attractive in person.

“Hi, I’m Rami”, the stranger--er Rami-- extended their hand out for me to shake which I took willingly.

Our hands stay clenched together for a few seconds longer than what would've been normal for me and a new client to engage in, however this wasn’t just any client. He did say he was an actor, but I had just assumed he was an ‘actor in progress’ and working his way up, not that he was an actor who I was preparing to dress for the Academy Awards.

“Nice to meet you Rami.”

[thatk9panda]

King Koopa x F!OC (Chocolate Pie)

Junior and his 7 siblings were having a lazy Sunny day in the Castle's main room just off the Boarder-line of the Mushroom Kingdom, that their Father has yet to claim for the true inhabitants of the land, the Goombas from his once Romantic target, Princess "Peach" Toadstool. Junior sometimes forgets that his Dad was trying so hard to make her his new Mom since he was younger, but now having a mind of a curious child, Junior cringes at his actions, it's so embarrassing but things have changed now. His dad, King "Bowser" Koopa has changed, he no longer fights for the land for the Goobas that begged him to get back because he is the sole only being powerful enough; a falsehood. Time and time again, Bowser fails his missions by Mario "Jump-man" Mario at every turn. Junior sets down his stuffed toy in the shape of a comically detailed bomb with an irate expression as if ready to explode at any bated breath. Stepping out into the all decorated corridor Junior hears his Father's booming voice. "Junior! Do get your Mother for me, Son. She's oversleeping again." Bowser was leaving the kitchen holding a giant pie in his scales. No doubt to Junior his Dad is having Dessert for lunch. "OK, Dad." Junior jogged the carpet steps of his home to his parents' bedroom. Yes, Peach isn't his mom but that's OK. She's still great! After a few minutes of walking and jogging to save time, Junior arrives a tad bit breathless, his excitement to see his mom pushed him to sprint down the hallway. The door to the room was away from others 'close-by' and detailed with rubies and golden frames, his Dad once had a simpler door but upon her arrival, he ordered something Mario wouldn't be able to get through so easily, Window was out of the question, coming in from it just led you to a different part of the castle altogether at random even if you see her from it. Junior can't figure out if his Dad forgot to change it or the two agreed to keep because it was set up all nice. The door remains unlocked without caution, The room was darkly lit, a few candles lines the walls on all four walls, half of it burns to keep the room total darkness has the thick curtain blocked the open stone window. Junior tip-toes on his claws to avoid being noisy has he approaches the bed in the center of the room against the parallel wall of the entrance. Thick blankets nearly cover the tiny human woman under it, nearly, her hair was spread through the white pillow in contrast to her golden pink thick curls. He pokes what he assumes is her shoulder, his action repeats in a motion of swaying her back and having her body maneuver back to its original position. "Mom, wake up. Dad says you're sleeping the day away." "Nooo... So comfy." The woman groans as she buries herself deeper into the warm covers she longs to connect with. "Mom." Junior deadpanned calls. His expression was a look of mild annoyance but a sneaky plan formed in his mind last second. "Dad's eating your chocolate-chip pie." Silence. "Can I have a minute, Junior?" She made no action to move yet her voice sounded much wider awake, Junior left the room, closing the door behind him and made his way downstairs, she'll catch up. Junior hears the door open and quickly close and outcomes running is his Dad's wife and his and his siblings' Mom, Averie. All of her custom dresses were simple and breezy, King Bowser finally gave him on her outfits, she seems happy to wear something loose and flexible, Averie told him that Bowser used to think that she would sneak away at night but having on such restricting garments would make escaping difficult for her unless she stripped down and that would be obvious of her actions but now the two have reached that step of trust. He's so proud of his Dad. "Where is your father?" Averie stumps for off in her heels strapped at her ankles for grip. "Outside in the Garden!" Averie took off in a marathon, the servants and occupations continue on with their day, not a one-bit concern for the heavy footsteps fast approaching and quickly fleeting away. The castle sure is lively now more than over, they wonder why it wasn't like that before, why did a human girl from a different world have to come and make that change? The desire for the answer didn't linger long before everyone 's mind went elsewhere. Junior arrives downstairs towards the front entrance of the Castle, he opens the door just as Averie's voice rang through the green grounds of the Garden growing off the side of the Castle. "Bowser! Where's my pie?!" Heavy, Very Heavy footsteps shake the grounds as he can barely see his Father fleeing deeper inside the Maze of roses. Averie quickly finds him, the stomps end. King Bowser has just finished savoring the pie he has taken from the kitchen, oh his wife- tasty pie, good pie. He loves her chocolate-chip pies the best, no question. Too bad he's going to get into trouble for not sharing it like it was intended for and she slaved so hard in the kitchen the night before to prepare it just right, he would felt guilty if it weren't worth eating. Maybe he can try recreating it so he'll be in less trouble. "BOWSER!" His flaming red eyebrows nearly extend off his face, his spine stiffens as he hears the voice he loves so much scream his name in bloody-murder. And today I die She was approaching closer, Bowser didn't consider hiding deeper inside the Maze, but he didn't feel he needed to, he was sure he had time to even hide the evidence... unless. Junior's snark smirk filled his thought bubble. Traitor! He told her! He took off, leaving the empty crumble foil pan on deserted on the ground. Averie is fast approaching now. He can feel her presence climbing his spiked shell. Here it comes. Having been romantic with her for awhile Bowser has come to where rope around his shell so she'll have something grab, especially since his arms are far much wider for her to grab. She stepped on his tail as leverage and roped her way up to his shoulder, Bowser was too big for the tight space and not all that fast compared to his wife. He falls on his stomach, defeated as she grips his horns in victory, he looks to the side of his eye to see she one again isn't dressed like a Queen of the Koopas, having natural bed head curls crown her face, skin clear of the drool that always cakes the side of her lip and eyes for reasons only he knows, yet she stands as graceful as a Goddess, Bowser has never witness beauty such as this and he prays he is the only lucky man to see all of it. "Bowser, you ate the pie! I made that today's dinner with the Princess!" She pouts as she leans close, her frame blocks the sun from him, darkening his sights as he glances up, he cares not for eating that Delicious pie but the upset tone she uses telling him he done wrong, twist his stomach. She remains on top of him, legs on either side of his shoulders as if to keep him pin but he and her as well as everyone knows that's impossible but he plays submission from time to time to make her feel better. Her fragrance, he finally inhales when the pie's smell faze from his nostrils. Her scent is hers and his, such an intoxicating aroma. He grows excited, no! Bad! Not now, Now you're in trouble. "I'm sorry, My Love but you know how weak I am to your desserts." He uses play on words. "No! That's not okay, you know how hard I worked on it and how I was gonna show off, why didn't you just eat the other ones? I made your favorite Cinnamon Peach, knowing you were gonna try something like this." She pulls at his horns as 'punishment' poor girl, she's only digging herself in deeper. "I didn't see it." He lied. True, Cinnamon Peach pie was his favorite, he had Peach's name in it and Bowser order Averie to bake it for him whenever he failed his mission, which was nearly every other day. Dark days indeed, how she would work for hours, sleep rarely and looked like a piece of trash took form. How he hates the old him for treating her like he did. His desire for Peach nearly cost him a Happy Ending but that all changed when she intentionally went against his wishes of another pie to the Chocolate-chip that fell in love with, it was also her favorite as well. "Liar." Call out. Her face gets closer. She stares down to his huge yellow lips before meeting his eyes again. "Stop lying." "Okay" "Don't say Okay then do it again." "Okay" "Bowser!" King Koopa, reaches an arm, gripping her ankle and pulling her under him. She doesn't fight it, he always reclaims his position as 'Top' when he feels she had enough of being Bossy to the King. She folds her arms under her chest, prepping them up with a squeeze. "Over it yet?" He asks, voice powerful and in control. No response, she moves her head to the side with a huff. Bad move. Bowser has grown to love the fight she puts up. It was different and unique. He opens his fangs and gently nip the skin of the meeting of her shoulder and neck, she shivers at the pleasant love bite, she relaxes her arms, positioning herself in a much comfortable; Legs spread apart in a loose spread out pose, her arms bend over her head to wrap his biceps keeping his upper body from crushing her. He pulls himself closer to the ground to nip her again, she shivers at the contact. This tiny woman, that hasn't cringe at his touch and advances just so willingly complies to his love. He really did miss this chance. He hasn't taken much thought to why. He was just longing for a woman in his and his children's lives, that why she would ever never crossed him, even as the two make sneaky love making out in the open of the garden. He can't figure out where this passion came from. He never had these feelings for Peach, of course, he wanted her, he loved her but this activity has never crossed him when he thought of her. Enough comparing the two, there's only one and she's lying under me right now. The Queen and King receive and gives each other a longing kiss in the middle of a Hot day, luckily Bower's huge form shadows hers from the impossible heat. She pulls away, always the one to be out of breath first, she pushes at his chest to separate the two. "Okay, I forgive you, Now let's go back inside. I have to remake a pie." She suggests. After all this, Bowser had other plans. "Not right now. You have something to take care of first." He states out lustfully to his beautiful and submissive Queen.

[sockablock]

Widomauk Week 2k19 | Day 3: Formal Event

The theater was in the midst of uproarious pre-show chatter as Caleb and Nott arrived that evening, dressed to the nines—or at least, disguised to look it. Though Caleb had reluctantly donned a proper suit, Nott had opted instead for illusion and was currently glamoured up as a young halfling. 

After all, they could take no risks tonight. It was much too important for the sake of their friend Jester.

“It was real nice of her to invite us,” grinned Nott as they headed down the aisles, periodically checking the numbers of every row. “And she got us such amazing seats!”

“She is a very kind person,” Caleb nodded, and pushed past some less well-connected opera-goers. “I do hope for her paycheck’s sake that she got these for free, though. You would think, perhaps, that the closer the better, but actually the center of the orchestra is best. Gotts, I have not been to the opera in years.”

“What’s it like?” Nott glanced up. They slipped around a few more patrons. “We didn’t have fancy stuff like this back in Felderwin.”

“Hmm...I suppose it depends on your tastes. If you are a lover of music, then opera is a truly magical experience.”

“Well,” said Nott, shooting him another smile, “I know for sure that I do like magic.”

Caleb gave her a fond chuckle, then slowly came to a stop. “Ah,” he said, gesturing into a row, “I believe that this is us. After you, Fraulein the Brave?” 

Nott let out a laugh, then scurried to their spots, counting the cushioned chairs as she went. She was glared at by an older pair of elves, who themselves had been forced to sit along the aisle. 

Caleb slipped in after her and comfortably settled down. A young gnome couple sitting to their right began to make polite small talk with Nott, giving him a chance to survey the others in the hall.

Wealthy, he thought, important figures, the lot of them. Many had probably never worked a day in their lives. Their glittering, precious jewelry, elegantly-cut cloaks, their shiny gold opera glasses clutched between claw-like nails, all definitely meant that they belonged to the higher classes.

Which, more accurately, translated to: bastards.

Caleb sank down slightly in his chair. He eyed the thick, still-closed, draping curtains.

Of course, he was proud of Jester, tonight. Unbelievably so, undoubtedly so. She was the most amazing singer in the world, mind-blowingly talented and unswervingly dedicated. Singing was her passion—well, one of them, she was very passionate—but performing, performing on such a scale, was her dream. And to be the first tiefling prima donna of all time, at such a young age, in such an elitist and unaccepting industry—well. It was bad enough that the male lead was a half-orc. The poor man had already endured two years of criticism, and had mostly been begrudgingly accepted by the community. But now, tonight, for two mixed-bloods to be onstage at once?

Caleb couldn’t help but worry for his friend. The gnomes talking to Nott certainly seemed nice, but you could never quite be sure with the rich and famous. 

He briefly wondered how many people he could Charm at once.

This train of thought was interrupted, however, by a commotion near the back of the hall. Some people were shouting, and a handful of performance programs achieved flight.

Everyone in their section turned around. A number of posh audience members began to whisper.

“What do you suppose it is?” Nott murmured, leaning in to glance at Caleb. “Someone famous, do you think?”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Maybe...infamous. Listen to the noise, what could that b—”

And then an explosion tore through the crowd, whirling past the last of the standing patrons and whipping down the aisle trailing gold dust and satin. It was a blur of color, a rush of wild force, and it was dressed in a sheer black gown and high heels and carried two—two—glasses of red wine.

It was, to Caleb’s surprise and horror, a person. Surprise, because this was amazingly another tielfing; horror, because he was headed right for Caleb.

He plowed through the aisle and came to a stop barely just inches away from Caleb’s face. 

His breath smelled like cranberries. And cola. A hint of lemon.

And a sort of low, burning heat. His eyes were crimson, shone dangerously in the dim light.

There was a moment, and they just stared at one another.

And then the edge of the tiefling’s shawl dipped. He leaned in even closer, their noses almost brushed.

“Well, well, well,” he murmured. “What brings you here, dear?”

Caleb managed to open his mouth. Then he closed it again. He tried to lean back and half-spilled from his chair, and was very, very cognizant of the rage Nott was emitting.

It was like a fountain of unbridled fury. It was enough to help Caleb screw his head back on.

“I, ah...here for Jester,” he mumbled, trying and failing to properly make eye contact. How the hell were you supposed to look at someone without pupils?

“Jester?” the tielfling murmured. “You mean...Jester Lavore?”

“That would be the one,” Nott piped up. Her voice had a very hard edge to it. “Also, hey, who are you?” she demanded. “And what are you doing here?”

The tielfing snorted, and then finally leaned back. Caleb took a grateful breath of air.

“Well, it’s funny you should ask,” he said. He crossed his arms, which was impressive considering how he was dual-wielding 40-proof.

“I’m actually here for Fjord. The male lead? I’m his roommate, and his best friend. Mollymauk Tealeaf, at your service.”

He actually bowed. 

“Call me Molly.”

Nott gave Molly a very suspicious once-over. After a few quiet seconds, during which the entire rest of the orchestra stared at them with expressions ranging from indignant to bored, he adjusted his shawl and sat down in the seat right next to Caleb.

Their shoulders very briefly brushed. It was hard not to, in a theater optimized for capacity.

“I’m actually quite excited,” Molly said, with a frankly bewildering level of normalcy. “Fjord’s been practicing for almost a year, now, and he never stops gushing about how lovely his co-star is. Or, co-lead, or whatever they call it in this hellish industry.”

He took a sip from his left wine.

“Jester seems like a wonderful girl. You said you’re here for her, yes? Come to gawk at the upstart young singer? Or are you one of those...horn enthusiasts?”

This line of questioning was enough to startle Caleb completely out of his daze. His eyebrows did a sort of Macarena up to his hairline.

“What?”

“No?” Molly raised his right glass. “You are here for another reason, then?”

“You—I—yes! Yes!” Caleb rubbed his face in disbelief. “I...scheisse, Jester is my friend. A very good friend, of mine and of Nott’s. We are here to cheer her on.”

“Yeah,” said Nott, leaning out from behind Caleb. “Gods, lighten up, you weirdo.”

Molly fell silent. Then he burst out laughing. His shawl waved up and down with his shoulders, and the charms on his horns jingled with the din.

“Oh, gods, oh, I’m so sorry, dear!” He wiped at the tears in his eyes with his forearm. “I suppose I was just suspecting the worst, eh? Fjord warned me that there would be some—” he lowered his voice to a not-very-subtle whisper, “—unsavory and unwelcoming types in the rich people seats. I am very fortunate to have found you, instead.”

Caleb met that scarlet gaze. He felt the corners of his mouth form a smile.

“Ja,” he agreed, without at first realizing. “Ja, indeed. Very fortunate.”

Molly handed him a glass of wine. It was the cranberry one. There was a faint smudge of lipstick staining the outer rim.        

“Cheers,” he smiled, “to welcome company. Cheers to your halfling friend, too, Nott, did you say your name was?”

“Yeah,” said Nott, gracing him with the faintest nod. “And I do still think you’re weird. But I guess you get a pass. For now.”

Molly raised his glass. “That’s all I need, dear.”

He clinked his cup against Caleb’s new one and chugged it down without hesitation. All around them, the audience had returned to their idle conversation, and the lights in the theater were slowly beginning to dim.

“Oh, right, before I forget,” Molly said, after his drink had been half-drained. “What’s your name, dear? So that I know who I have the honor of sitting with.”

Caleb felt a laugh escape his chest. His smile grew just a bit wider.

Ah. It is the wine, he told himself, even though he hadn’t even taken a sip yet. That is what has gotten you so giddy.

He leaned in towards Molly until their shoulders brushed together in the new darkness.

“Caleb Widogast,” he said. “Caleb, if you like.”

The chatter of the audience had faded to a whisper. The conductor of the orchestra raised his baton.

Molly brought his lips to a grin by Caleb’s ear.

“Well then,” he murmured, “in that case, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Caleb.”

His response was a hum as the flutes began to sing:

“Nein, Mister Mollymauk. The pleasure is all mine.”

— — — — —

💜 Thank you so so much for reading! I’m currently trying to afford Microsoft Word, and my Ko-fi link is in my bio, if you’re feeling generous 💜

[is-this-a-skam-account]

A Christmas as (a Fake) Elu 2/3 (rating: mature)

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350677/chapters/51132139

The second day in Strasbourg starts off with pancakes for breakfast (Eliott lets Lucas sleep in and brought him breakfast in bed. Yes, Lucas’s heart collapsed), they make gingerbread houses (yes, Lucas and Eliott ended up eating everything in their packets), they went into town as a family to go shopping (Lucas and Eliott ran around trying to find the most extravagant and over-the-top outfits they could find), and had a nice family-dinner in with last nights leftovers and they all watched a couple rom-coms (to Eliotts disdain). Lucas and Eliott shared a bed for the second night. (Lucas is starting to think that maybe that should have just not been a rule.)

The third day Lucas wakes up before Eliott, which is rare. The sun isn't fully over the horizon just yet, and the room is shrouded in a pleasant darkness. He shifts out of Eliott’s grip (yes Eliott’s a cuddly sleeper and Lucas won’t complain about being spooned) without waking up his (fake)boyfriend. He sneaks his way to the bathroom with a towel in tow. He doesn’t really bother to check the time before turning on the water. He waits a good five minutes for the water to heat up, and he’s about to hop in where there’s a knock at the door.

Lucas gives a glance at the shower and the door before huffing in defeat and moving to answer the door. And, honestly, Lucas should have guessed it was Eliott but he was still taken aback by the sudden presence at the door.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Lucas asks in a whisper.

Eliott shakes his head and rubs at his eyes, “nah. Well, I mean, yeah, but I was going to get up soon anyways. Mind if I come in and brush?”

“Oh, yeah, be my guest,” Lucas says and opens the door for Eliott to slide past.

Lucas decides to wait for Eliott to leave to strip down and enter the shower, since the shower doesn’t actually have a curtain, just a sliding glass door. However, after Eliott places his toothbrush back inside the cabinet he turns back around to face Lucas and doesn’t make a move to leave.

Lucas raises an eyebrow at him, “you gonna leave or what?”

Eliott smiles, “I think I should get to see my boyfriend naked, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lucas scoffs, “ fake  boyfriend, Demaury.”

Something flashes across Eliott’s face. It’s so fast Lucas doesn’t catch it, “I could wash your back for you, like I used to,” he adds a wink for good measure.

Lucas shakes his head in exasperation, “no way in hell. Now get out so I can wash up before we wake up the whole house.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave,” Eliott says and he has his hand on the doorknob when he turns to say, “also, we are driving up to the ski resort today, so you’ll need all your skiing stuff. We’ll probably get back around seven-ish, and my mom apparently booked us, as like a couples thing, dinner at a fancy restaurant in Strasbourg’s downtown area. I didn’t want to say no, because, well...you know. So when we get back we have that to look forward to.”

Lucas smiles, “can’t wait. First official date as a fake-couple.”

“Right.” Eliott gives Lucas a sad smile, “see you then,” he disappears behind the door.

::

Lucas wasn’t exactly expecting for the temperatures at the ski resort to reach below zero, but just his luck. His feet and fingers already feel like icicles by the time they step out of the car. And it only gets worse as he straps on his skiis and has to shimmy-walk besides Eliott’s long-ass giraffe legs.

“Shut up!” Lucas pouts and hits Eliott on the arm when his fake boyfriend began laughing, “you will never know the pain of walking with skis.”

“You’re right, I won’t. Because I was an intellectual and decided on snowboarding.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, and is about to rebuttle when he gets cut off by Janine shouting towards them, “we’re heading over to the black diamond! We’ll meet up with you guys later!” With that the rest of the family walks off.

“You can go with them if you want. Don’t let my incompetence at skiing stop you from having fun,” Lucas says.

Eliott looks down at his fake boyfriend with a smile on his face, “are you kidding me? This is the most fun I’ve had on these family trips, like, ever! I wouldn’t leave you for world.”

Lucas is barely able to register what Eliott is saying because his damn skis decide to slip on a giant ice patch. He yelps as he goes down, and grabs onto Eliott’s arm yanking him down as well. They both ;and with an “oof” on the ice patch. Lucas groans and already knows that there will for sure be a bruise there tomorrow.

“Oh, shit,” Eliott says with a groan as he sits up and rubs the back of his head, “you really felt the need to be bring me down with you, huh?”

“If we go down, we go down together,” Lucas says as he rises from the ground.

“You did NOT just quote a Chainsmokers song at me, did you?”

Lucas laughs as he is pulled up off his bum by Eliott, who, as they walk away, feels the need to keep their hands entwined. When Lucas tells him he would like his hand back, Eliott simply says he will not be releasing his hand because it is for both their safety, in order to ensure Lucas doesn’t crack open both their skulls by falling for a second time.

Lucas starts on the bunny hill, dragging Eliott along with him. They are surrounded by toddlers and elementary schoolers as they make their way down the nearly flat hill. Eliott would be snowboarding circles around him if it wasn’t for the fact that Lucas would probably eat it if it wasn’t for Eliott’s hand keeping him steady.

After about thirty minutes of just going down and back up and down again, they decide to move onto a dark blue diamond ski slope. Which was a mistake. Lucas is shaking practically the whole way up in the ski lift, and as soon as his skis touch the snow, he is sent barrelling down the hill with Eliott racing after him. Lucas, being his clumsy self, gets his two skis tangled together, and ends up tripping, flying through the air, before landing face first into the snow. 

He has tears streaming his cheeks when Eliott finally catches up with him. Lucas sniffles when Eliott kneels down beside him, “it hurts. That was scary.”

Eliott gives him a sad smile, “oh, baby, I’m sorry. You did good though. I’m proud of you.”

“Did you even see what happened?! I literally flew through the air!”

Eliott laughs and Lucas starts laughing with him, but it turns into a groan when he finds that his stomach is already sore. They are able to get Lucas back on his feet, and Eliott helps connect Lucas’s boots with his skis before guiding Lucas back down the hill slowly. 

“I think my lip is busted,” Lucas mumbles.

“Lemme see,” Eliott says and twists Lucas to face him. Lucas feels the wind being knocked out of him for the second time that day when Eliott’s thumb presses down and pulls on Lucas’s bottom lip. The pain makes Lucas wince, but goddamn Eliott’s eyes grow dark as he stares at Lucas’s lips, “you’re bleeding a little bit. You must have bit it when you landed on your face. We should probably ice it.”

Lucas sighs, “I’m so sorry, Eliott. You probably didn’t think you would have to babysit me during your ski trip.”

“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I invited you along. You can’t ski to save your life,” Lucas rolls his eyes which makes Eliott laugh, “but I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to snowboarding, but rather just getting to hang out with you.”

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

Eliott looks at him as if he just grew horns, “of course I’m not! I’m having way more fun than if I was up on, like, the double black diamond all by myself.”

Lucas doesn’t necessarily know how to respond, so he simply gives Eliott a toothy grin. Eventually they make their way into the lodge. Eliott goes to fetch Lucas some ice for his lip while Lucas prepares them two cups of hot chocolate. When Eliott gets back they are able to snatch a couple chairs in front of the giant fire pit, which helps warm them up. Well, at least it helps thaw Lucas’s frozen face from when it landed in literal ice.

Now, listen, Lucas can obviously see himself dating Eliott. It’s easy to, since they are close anyways. But it’s times such as these when Lucas actually  forgets  that he is not dating Eliott. He forgets that Eliott isn’t actually his, and yet it is so easy to not remember. 

“Why did you say that,” Lucas can’t stop the words before they are barrelling out of his mouth.

“Say what?”

“I mean, did you really have a crush on me back in high school?” Eliott’s silent for a second, and Lucas is honestly about to repeat his question when Eliott says, “yeah. Well, even after high school.”

Lucas whips his head towards Eliott. They lock eyes immediately. Eliott’s expression filled with a cold-steel. Lucas opens his mouth to ask him ‘how long have you had a crush on me? Do you still have a crush on me? What-what does this mean?’ but he’s cut off by gloved hands grabbing onto his shoulders. He jerks away in surprise, but Janine then comes into view with a toothy grin.

“I see you guys have made good use of lounge,” Emelie says as she, Janine and their partners take a seat on the bench in front of the fire pit.

Eliott smiles, “Lucas got into a bit of an accident. So we called it a day and got some hot chocolate instead.”

“Eliott, if you want to go snowboarding I can chill with Lucas so he isn’t alone,” Janine offers and she glances Lucas’s way, to which Lucas nods in agreement. “We can just, like, come watch you guys.”

“Yeah, for sure. Eliott, don’t let me hold you back. Go have fun.”

He pauses and with a purse of his lips asks, “you’re sure?”

Lucas laughs and reaches up to ruffle Eliott’s hair, “of course, you goof,” then Eliott is grinning back at him, grabbing his snowboard and places a kiss to Lucas’s cheek, “thanks, baby.”

And there’s that damn word again. The word that makes Lucas’s heart leap from his chest and butterflies scratch at his skin. It’s the word that makes Lucas melt from the inside out, and the ice around his heart that he has built up over the years begins to chip away bit by bit.

Eliott’s hand finds Lucas’s as they walk out of the lounge and towards the double black diamond ski slope. Lucas, being his paranoid self, doesn’t miss the sidelong glances from other people as they walk past. Though, he feels a burst of pride when they walk past a group of teenage girls, and they look longingly towards Eliott before each of their eyes slowly drift down to where their hands are connected. They look away.

When they finally get to the ski slope Lucas walks Eliott up to the ski lift. Eliott turns and pauses in front of Lucas, and for some reason Lucas suddenly becomes scared. Not necessarily for himself, but for Eliott.

It must show on his face because suddenly Eliott’s palms come up to cup his cheeks. “You look nervous. You know you aren’t going, right?” Eliott laughs.

Lucas pouts, “I know, just...come back safe.”

Eliott chuckles, “you make it sound like I’m going off to war,” when Lucas doesn’t say anything Eliott continues, “I’ll be back in three minutes. This course runs fast.”

“Okay,” Lucas sighs and melts into Eliott’s touch, “but I prefer my boyfriend in one piece.”

Eliott hums, “is that so?” Lucas nods, “well I will just have to ensure that happens.” He presses a kiss to Lucas’s cheek. Closer to the corner of his mouth than anything.

Lucas turns and walks away after Eliott gets onto the ski lift. He joins Janine under the tree she found herself. They start off the conversation light, as she asks Lucas about University, his job, yada yada. Then comes the “if you mess with my brother I will have to go angry-big-sister on you.” Which, fair, Lucas was expecting that conversation at one point. It is sort of alarming though, because once this week is over Eliott will have to let his parents know that they “broke up.” Which physically pains Lucas to think about.

“He talks so highly of you, you know,” Janine says, pulling Lucas from his thoughts, “he always has. He still thinks he isn’t deserving of you.”

Lucas smiles, “well that’s stupid. I’m the one not deserving of him. Your brother is someone truly special.”

“You know, Lucille was sweet enough. We could all tell she was caring towards him, but we weren’t sure if there was any real love there. She left a weird taste in our mouths when we met her. But you and Eliott...man, now that feels right.”

Lucas feels a pang of guilt in his chest. He hates tricking her like this, “thank you, that means a lot-”

Hands wrap themselves around Lucas’s middle, yanking him back to a hard, strong chest. His breath is knocked out of him when he lands. When he feels Eliott’s chest move with laughter he gets a flashback from the first day back in the kitchen when Eliott had snuck up on him that time as well. 

“I came back in one piece,” Eliott says to both Lucas and Janine, though more to Lucas.

Lucas turns around in his arms and lays his chin on Eliott’s chest to look up at him, “that’s good. Did you have fun?”

“Very much so,” Eliott says with a smile, “I didn’t eat it like you did,” he says with a little tug on Lucas’s bottom lip.

Lucas winces at the contact, “ow! It’s still sore, you asshole!” Lucas complains and smacks away Eliott’s hand.

Eliott laughs, “sorry, baby. Do you want to go back to lounge, maybe shamelessly fill our stomachs with free food before we leave?”

Lucas grins, “you know me so well.”

::

Later, when they get home from the ski resort they start getting ready for their ‘date,’ both using the one small bathroom on the upstairs floor. Lucas trying to brush his teeth and wash his face, while Eliott attempts to style his untamable hair. 

“If you elbow me in the throat one more time. I swear…” Lucas says as he tucks his toothbrush back into his bag.

Eliott laughs, “sorry, sorry. I’m almost done anyways.”

“It looks the same as you started…”

Eliott gapes at him, “how dare you! I have spent thirty minutes on this look! All i want to do is look good for my boyfriend!”

Lucas rolls his eyes, “oh my God, you are so dramatic.”

Eliott doesn’t say anything in response, but instead gives Lucas his best puppy-dog look. Complete with sad eyes and a pouty lip.

Lucas sighs, “you aren’t going to make me apologize are you?” another long sigh, “fine. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”

Eliott frowns, “it just doesn’t seem like you mean it…”

“Okay we have like twenty minutes before we have to leave so I’m going to go change.”

“Make sure you wear something nice by the way.”

“Who do you take me for? A guy who wears the same sweatpants and t-shirt everyday?”

Eliott laughs, “that’s exactly what I take you for.”

Lucas shrugs, “fair enough.”

He walks out of the bathroom and back to their room, where his one nice outfit is laid out on their bed. It’s a simple crisp white button up shirt and black dress pants and black dress shoes. It’s simply, but the form of the clothes definitely helps to highlight his good qualities. He changes quickly, just in time so that when Eliott walks back in he’s buttoning the last button on the shirt. 

“Oooh,  baby ,” Eliott says with a grin and a toss of his brush towards the chair in the corner, “you lookin’ hot as fuck! Give us a twirl.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and spins quickly in a circle, “you like what you see?”

“Oh I’m loving it,” Eliott says before reaching out and placing his hands on Lucas’s hips, “really accents that tooshie.” 

Lucas yelps when one of Eliott’s hands quickly squeeze his ass before releasing and running away from Lucas’s reach. 

“How dare you!” Lucas says and throws the nearest object towards Eliott.

He ducks away from the attack with a laugh. He opens his mouth to say something else when a knock at the door nearly makes Lucas jump out of his skin. “Eliott, Lucas!” it’s Emilie, “you’re going to be late!”

“We’re coming!” Lucas yells back and motions for Eliott to get changed.

They’re outside and heading down the road in the car within a couple minutes. Eliott can change surprisingly fast. A talent even Lucas didn’t know he had. And dear God Lucas has never seen anything more beautiful. When he pulled out a tight green turtleneck sweater Lucas knew he was done for. And when Eliott pulled it on Lucas was physically deceased. It hugged him in just the right way, especially in the pectoral and waist and arm and...honestly it just hugged him everywhere.

“After you, baby,” Eliott says as he holds the door of the car open for Lucas.

“Why thank you, sweetheart,” Lucas replies and gives Eliott a soft touch under his chin as he climbs out of the car.

Now, Lucas wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting. Maybe a semi-decent restaurant with prices that don’t go above $30. But when they walked in that was not what Lucas got at all. The restaurant had the full nine yards. Low lighting, real candles at every round table, small platters that cost over $40! So when Eliott walks in, Lucas in tow, and says “reservation for the Demaurys” Lucas thinks his soul leaves his body. They’re the  Demaurys  for the night. They’re the DEMAURYS. And this entire fancy restaurant thinks of them as THE DEMAURYS.

“Lu, you okay?” Eliott asks with a small touch to Lucas’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he says before looking around one last time. Out of fear, or something else, Lucas isn’t really sure, he grabs Eliott’s hand as they follow the hostess through the restaurant, up a flight of stairs, and to the second floor where there are less people, more decorations and a better view of Strasbourg.

“Here we are, gentleman,” the hostess says, “let me know if you need anything else.” She speaks more to Eliott than to Lucas, but as she leaves she catches a glimpse of their hands still interlocked, and Lucas swears he sees a flash of disappointment across her face.

Lucas ends up getting a filet and Eliott orders a Foie Gras dish. When the waitress leaves they are left in an awkward silence, which is something that hasn’t happened in many, many years. They always have something to talk about. Except now, apparently.

“So, you had a good time today snowboarding? Even though you had to deal with my clumsy ass?”

Eliott laughs, “I did. Very much so. I honestly don’t know how to tell you how thankful I am you were able to come with me. I wouldn’t have wanted to be here with anyone else.”

“Well you came with Lucille before,” Lucas says before thinking. He immediately bites his tongue after the words pop out of his mouth.

“I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else,” Eliott repeats, more resolute this time.

Lucas gives him a soft smile, “well I’m glad I came then.”

Eliott’s smile fades and his tongue dashes out to wet his bottom lip before he says, “listen, Lucas, I’ve actually been meaning to tell you something for a while, and if I don’t say it tonight I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to say it. I mean, tonight just feels perfect. The day has just felt so perfect,”  he’s going to do it,  Lucas’s head says,  he’s going to tell you that this all has to end once the week is over. He’s going to say that ‘the day has just felt so perfect and our friendship means so much to him.’ End it before he does. End it.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you something too,” Lucas cuts Eliott off, “I guess it’s more of a question. This ends when we get back right? I mean, you’re right, this day has felt so perfect and our friendship means so much to me. So our fake relationship ends...right?”

::

Eliott feels like Lucas just ripped out his heart, stomped on it, and then tried to fanagle it back into his chest. He chants to himself: don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t make a scene. Don’t cry. You should have seen this coming.

“Yeah, yeah, right.” Eliott feels like there’s a bowling ball in his throat, “right. Yeah. Our friendship is-yeah, it ends when we get back.”

“That’s what you were going to say, right?” Lucas looks up at him through his lashes. And, fuck, Eliott just wants to kiss the shit out of him right now and scream in his face: “it’s you, idiot! I’m in love with you!”

“Yeah, for sure,” even he can hear how distant his voice sounds.

“Wait, Eliott, what were you going to say?” Lucas says and begins reaching for Eliott’s hand across the table, but he flinches away from the touch.

“I was-, I don’t know what I was going to say. It’s okay, just forget it.”

When their food comes they eat in silence. Eliott barely touches his food, because everytime he closes his eyelids he sees what could be. What an Eliott and Lucas are doing in a different universe. Eliott confesses, and Lucas tells him how much he loves him right back. They barely eat their food because they are too busy smiling at each other and playing footsie under the table to bother actually eating anything. They leave the restaurant with their hands intertwined and stars in their eyes. They are a few meters from the car before parallel Eliott can’t wait anymore and pulls parallel Lucas towards an alley, presses him against a wall and kisses him until they are both out of breath. Because, God, every Eliott in every universe has waited so long to kiss their Lucas that it all comes out in a burst of beautiful passion.

But here they are, eating in silence. Lucas pays more attention to his steak than anything else. Eliott asks for their bill only about thirty minutes after their food arrived, and the waitress seems nearly taken aback by how quick their dinner went. The bill arrives with a number written at the bottom and a “call me ;)” underneath. In a parallel universe maybe Eliott wouldn’t pay any attention to it, but in this one, when he sees Lucas frown at the number, he makes a point to type it into his phone. 

“You aren’t seriously going to talk with her, right?” Lucas brings it up as they grab their coats from the coat check and head out to the streets of Strasbourg.

“The waitress?” Lucas nods, “maybe. It’s not like we’re dating.”

“Eliott, she lives like five hours away from where we live! You can’t be serious,” Lucas says and stomps his foot as he comes to an immediate stop.

Eliott turns around towards him, trying his best to keep his neutral expression in check, “maybe I’ll see her again while we’re here.”

“How would that even work?! That would blow our cover to your family!” Lucas exclaims, hands waiving around.

Eliott shrugs, “maybe we should just say we broke up.”

Lucas’s expression scrunches up, and if Eliott wasn’t on the verge of tears from bitterness and heartbreak then maybe he would comment on how it made Lucas look like an angry hedgehog, “are you serious? Eliott, that wouldn’t make any sense,” silence stretches between them, “why are you so mad right now?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Yes you are! I know you well enough to know that you’re pissed at me! Just tell me what for!”

“Obviously you don’t know me as well as you think you do, or else you would know that I-” Eliott bites his tongue. He takes a deep breath before taking a step towards Lucas, “listen, I’m sorry I’m not in the best mood right now. I promise I’m not mad at you though. I could never be mad at you. At least not for long, not when you look like such a cute hedgehog.”

“No, Eliott, don’t just dismiss this! You tell me that I don’t know you as well as I think I do, so tell me what’s wrong!”

Eliott takes a deep breath in before bringing his hands up to cup Lucas’s face, which must be cold, but Lucas doesn’t even flinch, “I’ll tell you. But can we walk for a second? It’s cold.”

“You’re hands aren’t making it any better,” Lucas mumbles and Eliott laughs as he pulls his hands away, “seriously, they are like little ice boxes.”

Eliott gapes at him as they begin walking, shoulder to shoulder, down the winding streets, “little?! Have you seen the size of yours?”

Lucas laughs, “dude, that’s gay.”

Eliott rolls his eyes, “pan, actually.”

“You are so pretentious, I swear,” Lucas says and shoves Eliott off the sidewalk.

The atmosphere between them doesn’t feel quite so heavy as they walk towards Strasbourg Cathedral. Lucas stops to get a cup of hot wine, which Eliott shares a few sips of. They also make a small detour into a Christmas shop and pick out a couple ornaments that they can travel back with. Eliott grabs a hedgehog, Lucas grabs a raccoon. Afterwards they walk the remaining distance to the church.

“Whoa!” Lucas exclaims, “it’s beautiful!”

Eliott smiles, “sure is. Too bad they don’t let us climb the tower this late. I’m sure the view up there is amazing.”

“We can always come back if we wanted,” there’s a beat of silence, “do you want to...talk now?”

Eliott sucks in a breath when his eyes meet Lucas’s. He looks enchanting in the soft light from the cathedral’s clock being lit from the inside out, “yeah, um,” he runs his hand through his hair. Lucas follows the motion and bites at his bottom lip. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but it’s making Eliott go crazy, “I’m not sure if we should talk here, now, you know? It’s late and maybe it would be better to talk alone. Plus, we’ve had a long day. I know I’m exhausted.”

Lucas drops his gaze, focusing instead on the paper cover around his cup, “sure. Tell me when you are ready. Just, please let it be sooner than later. I want to make sure my best friend is okay.”

Eliott’s heart feels like it’s melting, “my family is leaving early tomorrow to go out for breakfast. I told them we’d want to stay home and sleep. We can talk then.”

Tomorrow morning  , Eliott reminds himself as they walk back to the car, shoulder to shoulder, hands brushing,  tomorrow morning I tell Lucas how I feel, and this all ends. 

::

Lucas wakes up feeling warm and cozy, the events of last night hazy in the back of his head. Plus, it’s not every day he gets to wake up with Eliott’s arms wrapped around him, a warmth spreading from inside out. Eliott has molded his whole body to Lucas’s back, and Lucas doesn’t fight the feeling to press back just a little more. Eliott’s hair tickles the side of Lucas’s neck and face. His breath a steady puff of air on Lucas’s neck. Lucas momentarily contemplates on falling back asleep...until he remembers that Eliott and him have to talk today.

Lucas told himself last night that today would be the day. He tells Eliott, either it goes swimmingly or terribly. One of the two.

Yet, Lucas doesn’t necessarily want to wake Eliott just yet, and he knows that getting up and unwrapping Eliott’s arms from around his body will surely wake him. He’s a very light sleeper. But, there may be a problem slightly south of Eliott’s arms. Because he’s hard, and so is Eliott. Obviously it’s written off as morning wood, every guy gets it, but Eliott has managed to sandwich himself right between Lucas’s...cheeks. And Lucas is doing everything in his power not to shamelessly grind backwards. His breath coming out in quick pants as his heart begins to speed up, beating sporadically in his chest.

Now, Lucas is a pretty smart guy, so he knows that he should just separate them and move on. And if Eliott wakes up just tell him not to worry. It’s a bodily reaction. It happens to every guy. But when Lucas shifts to get up Eliott’s arms tighten their hold and a small whine of “Lucas,” spills out of Eliott’s mouth, a small grind of his hips accompanying the sound. That’s when Lucas knows he’s too deep in.

“Eliott…” Lucas says as his hands come to grip on the back of Eliott’s hands.

Lucas knows he messed up when Eliott stirs behind him, responding to the call of his name. Lucas knew he was a light sleep, but not this light. “Oh, shit,” Eliott says immediately as he gains consciousness, and attempts to move their lower halves away, “Lucas, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even know-I’m sorry-”

“Eliott,” Lucas says, breathless. Wrecked.

“Lucas? What’s wrong?” Eliott says as he sinks back onto the mattress, head coming back to rest in the crook of Lucas’s neck.

“Eliott,” apparently that’s all Lucas can get out at the moment, “help, I-” Lucas doesn’t give anymore warning before his hand curves around and presses on Eliott’s lower back, pleading him to come closer without saying the words.

Eliott complies and mumbles into Lucas’s neck, “you are going to be the death of me, Lallemant.”

It’s all hands and breath and desperation and HANDS until Lucas reaches his climax, clutching at the ends of Eliott’s hair. Eliott follows shortly after, moaning Lucas’s name into the soft skin behind Lucas’s ear.

Slowly Lucas comes back to his senses. The burst of brilliant white he had seen starts to clear and he thinks: shit. They just...they...what just happened. How did that just happen. How will he ever face Eliott again? If they’re friendship wasn’t ruined after Lucas proclaimed his love, it sure is ruined now.

He takes a shaky breath before flipping around to face Eliott, who is...way closer to Lucas than he thought he would be. When Lucas finally looks in his eyes he swears he sees stars reflected in them. Lucas was expecting Eliott to maybe be confused or alarmed or...something, but definitely not starstruck. Seriously, the guy looks like he just saw Harry Style and Timothee Chalamat walking together. When Eliott doesn’t say anything Lucas takes it as a sign that he’s waiting to see how Lucas reacts - so that he knows how to respond.

Lucas honestly doesn’t know what to say, he keeps opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Should he proclaim his love now? Should he ask what this means to Eliott? Should he just suggest a casual friends with benefits situation? Eliott had that before...right? He’s had fuck buddies. Maybe that’s what this is to Eliott. Maybe Lucas was just a prospective lay and now he’s just starstruck because it happened. Oh god, Lucas feels like an idiot. Eliott was just using him for a quick fuck.  Well, guess what, Demaury,  Lucas thinks to himself,  I’ll prove to you that I, too, can have casual sex with my best friend without it meaning anything. Just watch.

[ivadeshin]

Pasadena Iced Coffee (5/?)

(Sequel to Five Soda Maximum. Catch up on previous chapters on Ao3.)

"So where are you right now, on the feels and function scales?"

Caleb presses his lips together, looking up at the chalk board list of beverage options. "Function, nine," he says after a moment. "Or maybe eight. Um, on feels... pretty high? Seven? Eight?"

Molly nods and tightens the line a little as a woman with a stroller comes in to the shop behind them. "Okay. What's the biggest feel?"

"Surprise." Caleb looks over and smiles as Molly rests his chin on Caleb's shoulder. "I am serious, I was not expecting to hear back on that email for a month or so..."

That seems like forever, even for an older person. "Is he rude or just busy?"

"Very busy." Caleb's voice is emphatic. "He is doing... he is doing many things at once, always. Oh! I told you about him before. He is the one with the goblin assistant."

Molly remembers instantly - Caleb was afraid of some shadowy, all-powerful figure on campus until he heard a story about his goblin employee being discriminated against by campus staff. Said shadowy figure apparently wrote a multi-page article about academic racism that was, as Caleb explained it, the most scathing subtweet possible. Someone had to resign over it. "He's the Woke Shadow!"

"Ja!" Caleb laughs. "I forgot we named him that."

"So what can he do for you?"

"He can help me get into courses that are hard to get into, or entire programs, sign off on independent study... or get me internships or connections to places... he is very respected."

Molly considers this. "Do you need internships if you already make tons of money on your own merit?”

"Not unpaid internships. Like, a real paid job at a tech company, where afterward, they hire you on." Caleb rubs his nose and points up to the board. "We are next."

"Fuck, I haven't been reading the thing." Molly straightens up and moves next to Caleb. "Order for me?"

Caleb blushes a little, which makes Molly's tail curl. "Yes, okay."

**

They sit outside, with their backs to the large plate glass window so they can look out on the road. Several cars have their hoods down, which makes the people watching much easier. Molly sips his iced coffee and leans his shoulder against Caleb, who leans back.

"I forgot how nice it is to just. Be near." Caleb smiles at his lap.

Molly tilts his head just so, until the side of his right horn ruffles Caleb's hair. "I'm gonna do it," he teases.

"Nein," Caleb says with a pout, leaning away from the cowlick in progress.

"It's tiefling culture. You have to let me do it."

"I no longer believe in cultural relativism."

"Your school needs more humanities classes."

Caleb barks out a laugh. "It does, actually." He looks around a few moments, ensuring the coast is clear. "Some of my classmates could really use them. I love computers, the internet, but if you only live in there... you do not understand the real world."

"Met some other freshman who don't remember what trees look like?"

"Not just freshman," Caleb says, eyebrows lifting. "People about to graduate. They are, they are brilliant with big data platforms, or search queries, but they do not know how to talk to regular people! They think their field is the only thing that matters. If you cannot do this or that, then you are useless."

Molly scrunches his nose. "Even when you were shy, you didn't think like that."

Caleb puts his cup down on the metal table to gesticulate. "They barely even agree that other hard sciences - Caduceus! My RA, he is a great example. He is probably going to end up in, the, what is the word? In hospital, you go straight in because you are dying-"

"Emergency room?" Molly supplies. Caleb snaps.

"Yes. I always forget, it is so literal. Yes. The hospital emergency room people, they are begging him to do more... student hour things... there. He is not just smart, he is very calm, he does not panic when things are very bad, and these things together let him do very important things! Last month, a car crash on the..." Caleb points west. "I forget the road, it does not matter. Six cars with little injuries, but one, one turned."

"Flipped?"

"Yes," Caleb nods and gestures something flipping several times. "A man's arm was..." Caleb makes his own dangle limply. "It was almost not attached anymore? Caduceus does the sewing, the nerves, I do not understand it all..."

"Jesus."

"Yes! For three straight hours he must do this, he cannot stop! The real doctors had other calls! And then he goes out and sits with the, the wife! For another hour! Talking to her until she is not crying!"

Four hours. Molly can't imagine. "Are all firbolgs, like, floppy-eared angels?"

"Ich weiss nicht." Caleb shrugs helplessly. "But I only know because I saw him late at night and said, 'You look tired, are you okay,' and he told me the story, and said, he is so, so happy! Because he thinks the man's arm will be okay, and he got to meet the wife, who was very nice." Caleb gesticulates again. "And this man cannot code, so he is useless?"

"I hear Caleb Yelling," someone in front of them says, making them both jump. It's a half-elf in jogging gear, maybe early twenties, with shoulder length blond hair.

"You fucking scared me," Caleb laughs. He clearly recognizes them - that makes sense, considering this person knows Caleb's name. "Oh! Bryce! This is Mollymauk Tealeaf, my boyfriend." Caleb turns to Molly and smiles. "Molly, this is Bryce, they, they are in technical security also."

"I've heard a lot about you," Bryce says, extending a hand. They - they? don't seem to be the least bit surprised by how Molly looks, which is somewhat unusual. Molly grins and shakes their hand. "I heard your boyfriend yelling across the road and knew it was him."

"He feels very strongly about some things," Molly says with mock seriousness, making Bryce laugh.

"I was telling Molly about the turned car, the flipped car," Caleb says defensively.

"Oh! On the 210?" Bryce sucks in some air through their teeth. "Yeah, that took out the power for a couple blocks."

"I meant about Caduceus," Caleb says. "He sewed the man's arm back on, it was almost off."

"JESUS. They let you do that if you're still in med school?"

"All the other doctors were busy. And he did it!" Caleb gestures more.

Bryce leans over to Molly. "Why are we mad about this?" they stage whisper.

"Because some technical people don't appreciate genius outside of their own fields and this is clearly an example of someone talented," Molly rehashes.

"Ah."

"Bryce, you are not like this. I was not talking about you."

Bryce waves their hand dismissively. "I know, I know." They look to Molly again. "Hey, I like your tattoo."

"Thanks!" Molly beams and holds his arm up. "It's fresh." He holds still for the usual no-touch inspection, and something clicks in his head; he turns to Caleb. "Can you tell them about the thing that just happened?"

"Was? Oh!" Caleb looks to Bryce. "Dr. Errenis was outside!"

"That's not the part I meant," Molly admonishes.

"That's pretty big news," Bryce argues.

"Dr. Errenis was outside and agreed to be my adviser."

Bryce's eyes widen. "He what?"

"He did," Molly beams.

"He didn't!"

"I was there," Molly singsongs.

Bryce throws their arms up. "Has Caleb explained this guy? He's a kingmaker. He worked on the original Google algorithm shit. He spent six years on a government project that nobody knows anything about."

"He punched you in the face once and it was awesome," Molly finishes.

Bryce turns to Caleb. "I like him," they say, pointing to Molly. "Keep him."

Caleb rubs at his eyebrow. "For as long as he will tolerate me," he promises. "But. Seriously. Dr. Errenis knows someone on my current freelance job, so he will be paying attention to that work also. Pressure."

"Not your favorite," Bryce allows.

"But he'll do great," Molly interjects. "And even if Dr. Errenis changes his mind tomorrow and won't TA for Caleb anymore, Caleb will still be amazing and go wherever he wants."

"Caleb, does this guy have a sibling?"

"Lots." Caleb's brows knit together. "Sort of."

[eightmakar]

Taking Control | Three

(Hogwarts!Tom AU + Bestfriend!Tom AU)

Teaser || One || Two 

Summary: How do you work up the courage to confess your love to your best friend?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: angst

(a/n: hi guys!! i’ve been blown away by the support of this story, so as a thank you i’m extra motivated to write!! i got my information on animagi from pottermore and my bby @jellalyrancher  is my hogwarts fact checker so a special thx to her!! check out my masterlist here :))) i lov u guys and message me for tags!!!)

You stormed off to find Tom. But without any semblance of a plan, you stopped in the middle of the hallway.

How could you possibly express to him how much you really loved him?

It wasn’t just one thing. It was everything about him.

His laugh, his smile, the way he teased you. His body, oh Lord, his body. The way your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. The way he hugged you, scooping you up and holding you tightly like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. His beautiful chocolate curls that you’d spent many a time by the fire in the Common Room running your fingers through as he slept in your lap. The way he grinned when he returned from the kitchen with freshly baked sticky buns, courtesy of his House Elf friends he’d made his first year. The way he looked atop a broomstick playing Quidditch. His triumphant expression when you won a Quidditch match, sweat pouring down his forehead into his eyes, taking his curls with it. The curve of his jaw, the smooth skin of his neck that was practically begging to be kissed. His hands, his long fingers. His stupid left eyebrow that you desperately wanted to shape correctly, but he always refused to let you. The gleam he got in his eye when he was intently listening in Care of Magical Creatures. You could go on for days about your Tom.

Where would you even find him? Was he in the bathroom still? He said he’d meet you in Transfigurations, but Harrison was in class with you two as well, and you didn’t know if he was serious or not when he threatened to lock you and Tom in a broom closet. Maybe that wouldn’t be too bad, being locked in a closet with Tom.

You were just stomping around the castle aimlessly; you didn’t have a rhyme or reason to where you were going, but you ended up by the Transfigurations room anyways. You cursed the terror inside you that always made you get to class early; it was what had driven you straight to the classroom. You wished you could transfigure yourself into someone who could confess their love to their best friend.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” you heard a voice call. Professor McGonagall was standing at the door of her classroom.

“Oh! Professor! I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m early for class.”

“That’s quite alright, I wanted to speak to you about something anyways! Please, come in.” She escorted you into her office, which was connected to her classroom.

She sat down at her desk and you sat across from her. “Is everything alright?” You asked, a little nervous.

“Oh, yes dear. I had an idea for you, since you are now an adult in the Wizarding World. You are one of the best transfigurations students I’ve had in a long time, and I would like to help you train and register to become an animagus.”

“What?” You said in disbelief. “Really? An animagus?”

She nodded proudly. “Just like your mother.”

Both your mother and father worked for the Ministry of Magic, but your mum was essentially the second in command to the Minister of Magic. She was an animagus; she used to entertain Hannah, you, and Ryan as children by transforming into a horned owl and making funny hooting noises at you guys. You smiled fondly at the memory.

Your mom’s Patronus was also a horned owl, which was a common trend in the wizarding world. If that trend remained true for you, you would be able to transform into a fox, your patronus.

“When can I start?” you asked excitedly.

Professor McGonagall smiled. “I need to speak to a few people and situate a few things before we begin, so I’ll let you know. In the mean time, make sure you keep your marks good. The Ministry will look at them when they approve your registration.”

“I promise!” You nearly shouted. How many students had she done this for? You could probably count the number on one hand. She saw potential in you, and it was one of the most exciting things you’d ever felt.

“Now go ahead and take your seat. It appears your friends Mr. Holland and Mr. Osterfield have already saved you one,” she said, looking over her glasses at the middle of the classroom.

Tom and Harrison were sitting at one of the worn benches. You had a moment of panic as you walked over. Should you sit next to Harrison or Tom? Haz would know you didn’t tell Tom anything yet, but you felt so awkward about Tom’s “guy stuff” earlier that you’d rather deal with Haz.

Thankfully, Haz scooted over as you came over. “What was that about?” He asked, Tom leaning over him to hear your response.

“She wants to train me to be an animagus!” You said in a hushed, excited whisper, as your other classmates were filing in.

Tom’s eyes grew wide. “Really? (Y/N), that’s incredible!” he exclaimed.

“My mum’s Patronus and Animagus forms are the same. They’re both a horned owl. If that’s the same for me, it’ll be—“

“A fox,” both the boys finished. They knew you too well.

Professor McGonagall began class before you could say anything else to the boys. She welcomed you all to your final year of Transfigurations, and assured you it would be the best of them all.

You had to agree.

Halfway through class, Haz tapped your arm. He slid a small piece of parchment to you with a note on it.

‘Well?’

Your simple reply: ‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘Panicked.’

He drew you a picture to convey his next message. It was a broom. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he meant. You would not have to be locked in a broom closet with Tom to tell him your feelings. At least you hoped you wouldn’t.

Class ended, and the three of you made your way to potions. You made sure to talk to Tom on your way there.

“Excited about Quidditch tryouts today?” you asked. To you, there was nothing more exhilarating than a Quidditch match. Tom was the captain of the Quidditch team, and the best Seeker in the school.

“Is that even a question?” he countered. “You’re talking to the captain of the Quidditch team.”

“What if some hotshot first year like Harry Potter comes and steals your spot?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, then I guess the two of us will have to be Beaters, then, won’t we?” he said with a grin. “Although I can’t imagine the team would be very happy about their highest scoring Chaser becoming a Beater.”

You shrugged. “They’d get over it.”

He laughed. “Would they though?”

You laughed too as you followed Harrison into the dungeon for potions.

You never understood why potions was Harrison’s favorite class. It was dark and dingy and smelled awful in the dungeons. Especially in the potions room, where the scent of mildew combined with the smell of whatever potion you were brewing that day. But Haz was excited, so you and Tom were excited with him.

You sat down on the end of a row near the back, and Tom sat next to you. He leaned over close to you, so close you could smell his cologne.

“Can we talk later?” he whispered. “Like after Quidditch?”

Your stomach dropped. That was your chance. Was he trying to take a chance too?

“Yeah, sure!” You said nonchalantly. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating; you felt woozy just from him. You knew the cologne’s name, too, because you had picked it out for him as a gift for his 16th birthday, right before sixth year started. It was called Sunlight Prince, and you couldn’t think of a better description of Tom. You’d told him he was a man now that he was 16, and that he damn well better smell like one. He’d worn it every day since then.

The entirety of potions class, you practiced what to say to Tom in your head.

Ever since I saw you kissing Liza, it hit me like a brick, but I knew before then. When I’m with you I feel like the whole world could fall apart around us and nothing would feel wrong, because everything feels right with you. Nothing could ever be wrong when we’re together. I love you with my whole heart and soul, Tom.

You wrote it down so you wouldn’t forget it. You tucked the piece of parchment in the inner pocket of your robe, praying it wouldn’t go anywhere. You knew if you didn’t have it written down, you wouldn’t be able to make the words come out.

Potions went by far too slow, but it finally ended, and it was Quidditch time. You, Tom, and Harrison walked together to the dressing rooms, but departed at the door. Harrison was the captain of Ravenclaw’s team, so of course he couldn’t go in your dressing room.

Then you were alone with Tom in the dressing room. You opened up your locker in the dressing room, revealing your Quidditch robes. You sighed, comforted at the sight of them. You promised yourself if teaching didn’t pan out, you’d be a professional Quidditch player.

Someone came in the room. You turned to see your friend Abigail Harrington, a sixth year who you absolutely adored. She would be the captain when Tom left, hands down.

You meant to greet her, but you realized Tom was clad only in his boxer-briefs.

You’d seen Tom like this plenty of times growing up; Hogwarts didn’t feel the need to separate boys and girls for some reason, which you never really understood. But this time, it was different. You felt hot blood rush between your legs to your core. Your heart raced, your breathing locked in a race with it. Your hands started to shake and all you could do was stare at him. Tom’s small frame was defined and muscular, his collarbones and pecs and everything perfectly curved. He turned around, his back to you, reaching in his locker for his robes. You felt dizzy looking at the arches and lines of his back, the definition of his shoulder blades.

You had the overwhelming urge to dig your nails into it while he hovered over you.

You felt bad for poor Abigail, who still stood staring at you strangely..

“Hey?” She said awkwardly.

“Uh, h-hi,” You stammered back. You quickly turned to your locker and cursed to yourself, hoping Tom didn’t notice you looking at him. Was this how he felt during Dark Arts?

You took a deep breath and changed into your Quidditch robes as quickly as possible. You tried your best to not look at Tom, because every time you did the throbbing between your legs got worse. You wiggled uncomfortably, trying to rub your legs together in some semblance of relief before you had to go on your broomstick. Luckily, you had some time, because you had to wait for everyone to file into the room.

Tom gave his spiel, and thankfully, the throbbing had subsided greatly now that Tom was clothed. You and the small crowd of people went out to the field and got to work.

Quidditch took your mind off of everything, including the daunting task of talking to Tom after practice. But it didn’t last nearly long enough. You got so caught up in Quidditch that you didn’t even realize how quickly the time passed until Tom blew a whistle and tryouts were done.

Panic came over you. Your heart began to race again, your hands shaking so badly you could barely carry your broom. You filed into the dressing room with the rest of the team, going over the words you’d written earlier.

I love you with my whole heart and soul, Tom.

Then it was just you and Tom in the dressing room, alone.

Tags:

@upsidedownparker / @beautiful-holland / @ibtomholland / @tomhollandwritings / @tomsfireheart / @frecklesholland / @brokenuntilmay3rd2019 / @cutie1365 / @thebookwormslytherin / @bloodysleepy / @heavenly---holland / @uboe / @ali-ami-umi / @tom-hollands-hoe / @supernaturalpllfan1 / @bellagrayson-wayne

[elvendara]

Werewolf Saeran 4

This one was loooonnnnggggg........Sorry...............

1  2  3

He swiped the mirror with the towel, clearing the condensation. The air was still humid, heavy with moisture. He stared into his amethyst eyes, the bags underneath something common now. He sighed and looked down. The claw marks on his abdomen were still red, but healing. He couldn’t think of them as anything else. He’d poured through his veterinary medicine books and found a match. They were wolf claw marks. He wasn’t sure how Saeran had managed such a thing, but he couldn’t deny what was right before his eyes. He grabbed some gauze and taped it to the wounds. It still stung, but the pain was dulled now.

It was over a week since Saeran had fled his apartment. He’d tried calling, until the number had been disconnected. He’d also gone to Saeran’s classes, but Saeran hadn’t attended any of them. He was barely coherent in his own classes, his grades suffering, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Saeran. His google search history was full of werewolf research. Was it possible? He stared at himself again and shook his head. He was afraid he would never see Saeran again anyway. The thought had him hitching his shoulders. There was a heaviness in the pit of his stomach and his heart felt as if someone had gripped it tight, squeezing hard enough to burst.

There was knock on the door, which startled Yoosung. He didn’t usually have any visitors except for family, who always called ahead, and Saeran. He grabbed his pants and slipped them on, throwing a dirty t-shirt over his head as he headed for the door. He peeked through the peep hole in the door and saw a soft head of red curls. The grip around his heart loosened as he threw the door open.

“Saeran!”

The man looked up, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting from the dim light over his door.

“Sorry, wrong brother.” He grinned and stepped inside, past Yoosung.

“You…ah…I…”

“I thought you’d be a little more articulate.” He smirked, “Oh, do you mind?” he arched his eyebrow, motioning further inside the apartment. Yoosung swallowed and nodded.

“I…I didn’t know you were twins.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Yoosung shook his head.

“Well, I’m sure that was a surprise for you. I’m Saeyoung, and, you must be Yoosung.”

Yoosung wasn’t sure what was going on, why Saeran’s brother was in his apartment, but maybe, he would get some answers. It was his only connection to the man. Saeyoung sat on the arm of his only armchair.

“Sit down Yoosung, we need to talk.”

Yoosung sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clenched together.

“I need to ask you something Yoosung. Whether you see Saeran again or not, depends on that answer, and on if I believe you or not. Do you understand?” His face switched from comic to deadly serious. His amber eyes daggers that pierced through Yoosung.

“Where is Saeran? Is he ok? Why are you here?”

“No, he’s not, that’s why I’m here. And I’m here because I’m the only chance you have of ever seeing him again. He’s made it clear he wants to stay away from you. That you’re better off without him in your life. So, should we continue? Or should I leave?” he made as if to get up but Yoosung motioned him back down.

“NO! Wait! Please…ask your question.”

Saeyoung sat back down and sighed heavily. “I want you to be honest. I need to know the truth.” Yoosung nodded, wringing his hands.

“Do you like my brother?” The question startled Yoosung, he had expected something different.

“Of course I like him…” he started.

“You’re a smart kid, you know what I mean, I told you I wanted the truth.” He stood and walked towards the door.

“Yes! I…I like him…” he muttered, a flush crossing his cheeks.

Saeyoung stopped and turned back. He stepped close to Yoosung and pointed towards his abdomen. “Can I see?”

Yoosung was once more surprised, it seemed as if Saeran had told his brother everything. He pulled his shirt up, exposing his injury. Saeyoung arched his eyebrows, asking permission, Yoosung nodded. He peeled the gauze aside and ran his fingers delicately across the wounds.

“It’s healing nicely, did you go to the doctor?” he asked.

“You already know I didn’t.” Saeran’s brother seemed like the type who needed to know the answers before he asked the questions.

“Like I said,” he chuckled, “You’re a smart kid. So tell me, why didn’t you get medical attention?”

“I…I don’t know, the cuts weren’t that deep. I’ve learned enough to be able to take care of them myself.”

“Right.” He nodded, “You’re studying veterinary medicine.” Yoosung nodded as well. “You did a great job. And I am coming to admire your instincts.” He sat back down, and so did Yoosung. “Tell me one more thing, you don’t have to, but, I’m curious. Who messaged you that night?” There was a twinkle in his eyes, something mischievous that made Yoosung not want to be honest. He turned away, his body flushing with embarrassment. “Keep your secret, for now, we’ll come back to it eventually.” Yoosung swallowed and hoped they wouldn’t.

“I can still walk out of here. You can go back to your life. Safe. And easy. You can forget about Saeran. About any questions you might have. About any answers you think you know. You can stay ignorant. It’s not too late.”

Yoosung seriously thought about it. He pulled his phone out and turned it on. The selfie he’d taken with Saeran on his lock screen. He stared into Saeran’s eyes. He knew his world was about to change dramatically. Was the red-head worth it? Could he be the person Saeran needed him to be? There were so many unanswered questions. He could not deny his heart. Saeran had already changed his world, his view, his ideas about his future. He might as well see where it led. He desperately needed to see Saeran again.

“Tell me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Saeyoung nodded, “I’ve done my homework on you Yoosung. Saeran wouldn’t be happy to know that I’ve checked up on you, but, I had to, given what is at stake here. For the most part, you seem pretty average. Average student, average son, average family. You grew up well, not too poor, not too rich. Your social media is a little flat, though you seem to love posting pictures of your coffee.” He snickered. Yoosung turned even redder with embarrassment. “You seemed to have been a tad more popular in high school, happier too. Everything changed when you began university.” He watched Yoosung as he clenched his jaw, his eyes misting over.

“Since beginning, your grades haven’t been that great, and you don’t seem to be very popular. In fact, you don’t seem to have any friends at all except for those you met online.” Yoosung didn’t argue, it was all true.

“I’ve read your diary.”

“What?!” Yoosung stood, eyes wide, jaw on the floor. “How…how….tha…personal!”

Saeyoung shrugged, “It’s all pretty tame, you can’t even be honest with yourself it seems.”

“How dare you! You have no right!”

“You want to know why I’m here Yoosung? Why I thought that it would be good for Saeran to keep you in his life?”

There were conflicting emotions running through Yoosung. He wanted to punch his glasses right off his face, but, he was also the only one that could help him see Saeran again. He got himself under control and sat back down. He knew what Saeyoung meant when he said he couldn’t even be honest with himself. He’d skirted around his feelings for Saeran, even in his own personal journal. He’d lied to himself for weeks.

“I know what I did was wrong. On so many levels, but, there is a reason why I need to be extra careful of who is in my brother’s life. You understand, don’t you?”

Yoosung shrugged, unwilling to concede.

“You’re style of porn was pretty vanilla.” He began.

“Oh my GOD!” Yoosung covered his face with his hands, curling in on himself.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed, or ashamed, there’s nothing wrong with watching porn! I do it all the time! Thing is, you went from heterosexual porn, to gay porn after meeting Saeran. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”

Yoosung made gurgling noises and slammed his hands over his ears.

“It’s what convinced me you cared more about him than you were willing to admit.” He fell onto the seat of the armchair, throwing his leg over the side. “You already know what I’m going to tell you. I’ve seen your search history, I know what you’ve been looking at since that night. All that’s left, is the proof.”

Yoosung looked up, his eyes red rimmed, lips shaking.

“It’s the moment of truth Yoosung. Do you want to know?”

Yoosung gulped but nodded.

Saeyoung jumped up and pulled his shirt over his head. Yoosung stood and stepped away from him, across the room, “What, what are you doing?”

“These clothes are expensive!” was his only explanation. He continued to undress until he stood naked before Yoosung. The brunette looked away, trying not to stare at the scarred, muscular body in front of him. He briefly wondered if Saeran looked the same, they were twins after all. He blushed furiously and closed his eyes.

“Look at me Yoosung.” Yoosung shook his head. “Look at me.” Saeyoung growled, his voice deeper, gravely. Yoosung snapped his eyes up and watched in fascination and no small amount of fear as Saeyoung began to change before his eyes. His face stretched, his mouth becoming a snout, fur erupting all over his body. He went down on his hands, which became enormous paws once they hit his floor, the claws clicking on the wood. His spine cracked as it enlarged, his legs thickened, and a long fluffy tail grew behind him. His ears receded as canine ones unfolded above his head. Amber eyes deepened in color, radiating with inner light. He snarled at Yoosung and snapped his massive jaw. Yoosung yelped and fell back, the wolf was on him in an instant, it’s paws pinning him to the floor. Its black nose hovered over him, its teeth dangerously close. He opened his mouth and Yoosung closed his eyes. Instead of teeth, he felt a long slick tongue cross his cheek and nose.

“Gross!” he turned his head away and felt the lessening of weight on him. Soon, Saeyoung lay on top of him, laughing at his unfunny joke. “Get off me!” he pushed at the man and swiped at his face with his shirt.

“At least you didn’t piss your pants!” Saeyoung snickered.

“That wasn’t funny!”

“I thought it was. You’d be surprised how important the little things are to me.” He stood and began to get dressed. “It was the pheromones.” He said as he buttoned his pants and grabbed his shirt.

“What?”

“That night, the reason Saeran freaked out.”

“Pheremones?”

“Yours. He said they changed. When you took the selfie, as you were looking at your phone, your scent changed. You were aroused. At first, he thought it was because of him. The primal part of him reacted, thing is Yoosung, it wasn’t an accident that he bumped into you the day you met.”

“What do you mean?” He was getting more and more confused, Saeyoung seemed to jump around too much, and he was still reeling from the proof that werewolves existed.

“He picked up your scent. You see, werewolves mate for life, so, we don’t just pick and choose mates like humans do. Getting to know each other, falling in love, nope, it’s all biological and chemical.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, that Saeran was following the scent of his Beta. His mate.”

“Me?”

“You, yes. But, since you were obviously not on team dick, he decided not to pursue you that way. Instead, he was content to just be friends. To spend time with you, just, to be around you in general. It made him happier than he’d ever been, so, I didn’t argue. Even though I knew it was not going to end well. I would do anything for Saeran’s happiness, even if it was brief.”

“I…I didn’t…” Yoosung felt his throat constrict. “Pheremones! He! I!”

“Lied?” Saeyoung arched an eyebrow.

He was entirely too cocky, but he wasn’t wrong. Yoosung swallowed and nodded. “I…I was looking at the selfie I took. Saeran looked so awkward.” He grinned, remembering that night. “His hair was a mess, his eyes were so large and scared. It…it was adorable…and…something clicked in that moment. All the times we’d spent together, all the talks, the meals we’d shared, the comfort we’d felt. I suddenly realized…I…I was happier than I’d ever been. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought about not having a girlfriend, and, yeah, my taste in viewing material suddenly made more sense. I had been lying to myself. Not ready to accept what my subconscious already knew. So…I lied…and…” he pressed his hand against his abdomen.

“Are you ready now?”

Yoosung blinked, “Yes…take me to him…please.”

“Sure, but, maybe you should put on a clean shirt.” Saeyoung wrinkled his nose and waved the brunette away.

Yoosung grinned and headed towards his bedroom.

He hesitated, “Are you sure…he…um…”

Saeyoung rolled his eyes, “For god’s sake Yoosung, what part of ‘you’re his Beta’ don’t you understand? Come on! I need you to make my brother happy! I hate it when he’s in a funk! He gets mean and ugly! Not a pretty look, so, get a move on!” he shooed him and Yoosung ran into his room. Saeyoung sighed in relief. It was going to be a good surprise. He grinned, eager to see his brother happy again.

[the-desolated-quill]

The Girl Who Died - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

I was pleased to see Jamie Mathieson’s name show up at the beginning. Mummy On The Orient Express was definitely my favourite episode of Series 8 and while Flatline had its flaws (a lot of flaws), it was still one of the most original and interesting episodes to have come out of Moffat flavoured Who recently. So I was excited to see what Mathieson had to offer this time whilst bracing myself for potential disappointment because sadly Moffat is co-writing this one.

Well... I didn’t hate The Girl Who Died. There are quite a few things to like, but there are also several things that really annoyed me, and unfortunately dragged the episode down quite a bit in my opinion.

The Doctor and Clara are captured by Vikings and are taken to a village, where a race of aliens called the Mire kidnap and liquify all the warriors for testosterone. Also the Doctor’s sonic sunglasses get broken. So far, so good. I really like the Mire. It’s a great design and a great idea. Aliens posing as the Norse Gods of mythology. That could be potentially interesting. I thought David Schofield did a decent job in the role of ‘Odin’ (although upon learning that Brian Blessed was originally supposed to play the role, it’s hard to fully appreciate his performance when you’re too busy wondering wistfully what could have been) and while the Mire aren’t exactly the scariest or most interesting villains to come out of New Who, they are a credible threat and do hold your interest for 45 minutes. One scene in particular I thought was genuinely tense was the bit with the walls pushing the Vikings into the abattoir. And I did like how they were eventually defeated and outwitted by the Doctor humiliating them and threatening to ruin their reputation with a You’ve Been Framed style gotcha!. That was a genuinely clever resolution I thought.

Unfortunately the rest of The Girl Who Died is a bit sub-par.

To be perfectly honest with you, I’ve always found Vikings to be dull at the best of times, but here it’s worse. They’re not just Vikings. They’re comedy Vikings. With big beards, lots of roaring and large horns on their helmets (which the real Vikings didn’t have by the way). At no point do these Vikings ever really come across as real people. We never get to know them or grow to care for them. We don’t even learn their names because this Doctor is too callous and lazy to actually remember them. They’re just one dimensional comic relief. They’re there specifically to be ridiculed, and thus it’s really hard to muster up the energy to actually care. Also it’s really hard to give a shit about their training and learning to fight when there’s literally no point to it. The Doctor’s right. They could just run away and hide. There’s no reason why they can’t. There wasn’t even any reason for Ashildr to declare war on the Mire in the first place other than they’re VIIIIIIKIIIINGS and they fight with HONOOOOOUUUURRR, which really isn’t good enough. And to cap it all off, the Doctor then decides to help them despite having said a few seconds ago that helping them could have damaging repercussions for the Earth in the future, turning humanity into a prime target for other warrior races. Presumably we’re just supposed to forget about that, along with the fact that these Vikings aren’t really innocent victims, but a bunch of bloodthirsty morons who don’t know how to quit while they’re ahead.

The only Viking that comes out of this with her dignity intact is Ashildr. Maisie Williams is the only actor who gives her character slightly more depth beyond the usual ‘grrr, I’m a Viking’ nonsense and the character seems likeable enough. Unfortunately, while not as bad as some of the women he’s written in the past, she does end up succumbing to the classic Moffat trope of being totally defined by some bullshit mystery. It would have been fine if she was just a simple woodcarver who becomes part of something greater than herself and realises her full potential thanks to the Doctor’s influence, but no. Moffat has to take it one step further and have her be ‘special’ and ‘different’ and ‘not like other Vikings’ while providing no evidence to actually back it up. After River Song, Amy and Clara, I really cannot be fucking bothered at this point to raise even so much as an inquisitive eyebrow in Ashildr’s general direction. Knowing Moffat, this whole Hybrid thing is bound to end up being something stupid.

Speaking of Moffat refusing to follow the rule of ‘show, don’t tell’, the Doctor suffers quite a bit in this story. For starters we’re back to whimsy humour again (seriously, what’s the point of giving us an all new darker Doctor if you’re not actually going to commit to it? I’m starting to wonder why Matt Smith even left in the first place) and also this is yet another episode that’s all about the Doctor. And just like before, there’s nothing remotely subtle about this one. It’s all about what the Doctor can and can’t do. What he will and won’t do. All laid out in front of us. Even Clara is reduced to basically just badgering the Doctor to think of a plan. At this point the show has become so inwardly focused that it’s actually starting to suck the life out of the rest of the franchise. The worst example of this is toward the end when Ashildr randomly drops dead (I still don’t get how that happened) and the Doctor suddenly has an epiphany about why he chose to regenerate into this particular face. To remind himself that he saves people.

Not exactly a startling revelation, is it? I’m sure we all suspected it. It’s a convenient explanation for where the Doctor’s numerous faces came from and once we remembered that Peter Capaldi was in The Fires Of Pompeii, it doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to connect the dots, does it? So why did Moffat feel the need to make a big thing out of it? Is his ego so fucking gargantuan that he honestly thinks this is some deep insight into the Doctor’s character that no mere mortal could possibly have picked up on? He’s basically been wasting our time for a series and a half, provoking fevered speculation about the significance of the Doctor’s face only to then conclude it by confirming something that we already bloody know. The Doctor saves people. Does he really?! Well I’d never have guessed that! Next you’ll be telling me he cares about his companions. OH HE DOES?! Oh thank you so much for pointing that out! And here’s me thinking all this time that the Doctor was intending to eat Clara! Silly me!

What’s even more hilarious (and by hilarious, I mean so tragic that you’ll want to sit in the corner of your room and cry at what a fucking shambles this show has turned into since Moffat got into the driving seat) is that by making this oh so deep and unexpected revelation about the significance of the Doctor’s face, the writers actually completely misinterpret the ending of The Fires Of Pompeii. The reason Ten saved Petus Capaldicus was because Donna didn’t want to see the whole of Pompeii get destroyed because of their actions and begged the Doctor to not be a heartless bastard and try to save at least one person. Here in The Girl Who Died, not a single person has died other than Ashildr. Yes it’s tragic, but on the whole a job well done. But the Doctor decides to save Ashildr anyway. Not because he feels guilty for her death, but because he wants to prove a point. The Girl Who Died has less in common with The Fires Of Pompeii and more in common with The Waters Of Mars where Ten was motivated by a selfish desire to make the laws of time and space his bitch. The difference is that in The Waters Of Mars, we’re supposed to be appalled by the Doctor’s attitude. In The Girl Who Died, we’re supposed to be happy and see the Doctor as a good man. Except we’re not. In fact I hated the Doctor at the end of this episode. He’s condemned a young woman to immortality not because he cares about her, but because he wants to feel good about saving someone. Even at the end when he has second thoughts about what he’s done, it’s less to do with Ashildr’s wellbeing and more about him making a cock-up in the timey wimey department. I’m sorry, but that is fucking terrible.

I suppose The Girl Who Died isn’t the worst thing ever. As I say, there are things to like and it does hold your attention for 45 minutes, but the tonal inconsistencies and the general bullshit we’ve sadly come to expect from the Moffat era by this point ultimately results in an episode that fails far more than it succeeds.

[honeyedhoseok]

Exclusive

genre: angst || halloween party ft. Jaebum and Yugyeom

word count: 5.2k

Summary: A Halloween party gives you an unexpected opportunity to question your relationship with Jaebum, but alcohol, costumes, and drinking games don’t make for exactly the right setting or outcome you’d hoped.

Warning(s): sexual themes, strong language, drinking

A/N: I had this in my drafts since last Halloween. Creativity struck the other day so I started working on it again, and wa-la! It was originally supposed to be a smut, but when I picked back up on it I wasn’t in the right frame of mind and it totally went left. Also I write a lot about parties and drinking cause that’s all I do besides writing!! Whoooo!!! …anyways, enjoy my first Got7 scenario!!! <3

You’d decided that you officially hated Halloween.

Between the loud, pounding rhythm of the music in your ears, having to squeeze through the warm bodies packing all areas of the house, and pulling your much too short costume dress down over your ass and thighs countless times throughout the night—you couldn’t understand why people enjoyed Halloween, or Halloween parties, for that matter.

You found your way back into the kitchen of the on-campus apartment the party was being thrown in—a friend of a friend who you knew but weren’t really friends with—and reached for a red solo cup from the stack sitting on the counter. You poured yourself some punch from the bowl, bringing it to your lips for a taste before smacking them at the bitterness—someone had gotten a little heavy handed when they’d added liquor to the concoction.

You excused yourself out of the crowd of people surrounding the island in the kitchen, brushing up against multiple bodies and muttering apologies before finally getting to a space that wasn’t occupied by anyone else in the living room. You sipped from your cup, searching the party for your roommate, Seol, who also happened to be the pair to your costume that night.

After some consideration and persuasion from her, you two had decided to do the much over-used devil and angel pairing—you were dressed in a white dress and wedges with a quickly crafted halo from some supplies in your apartment adorning your head, while Seol was in red, with leather pumps to match and a devil horn headband. They were simple costumes, ones you didn’t have to think or pay much to put together, which was a relief because no one at the party had went over the top with their costumes, either. Someone passed you in jeans and a white t-shirt with black circles on the front, mimicking a poor excuse for a gambling die as if to prove your point.

“Y/N!” someone called, tapping on your shoulder and making you turn around. Jackson stood over you, his signature big cheesy smile adorning his face as he took in your costume. “Whoa, you look hot!”

You rolled your eyes, but spun around in a circle for him anyways, giggling. “You think so? All I did was pull out a white dress from my closet and make this dumb headband.”

“Hey, no judgement here, I’m dressed in this.” He gestured to the letterman jacket he was wearing, paired with dark jeans, sneakers and a hat turned backwards on his head.

“You look like you do every day?”

He grinned. “Exactly. But so does JB, we’re matching.”

Your face fell, the corners of your mouth turning down into a frown. “What? You are?”

“Yeah, he said he didn’t feel like dressing all up and just wanted something simple—why?” Jackson studied your face for a moment, raising his eyebrows. “I thought you guys would match, you know, since—“ his voice trailed off as he scratched the back of his neck nervously, his eyes darting away from yours.

You shook your head, stopping Jackson’s sentence from going any further as you asked nonchalantly, “Oh, he’s here?”

“Yeah, he stopped to talk to some guys on the team in the way in.”

You couldn’t say anything else for the anger building up inside of your chest, threatening to overspill words from your mouth, so you downed the rest of what was in your cup, holding it up for Jackson to see. “Let’s go get some more drink!”

Jackson nodded, following you without another word back into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but be a little hurt by Jaebum’s oblivious mindset. You two had talked the week before about what you would wear to the party, and after Jaebum had suggested not wearing couple costumes, you’d went with plan B—wearing something with Seol. But if he’d ended up wearing a costume anyways, why couldn’t he have just told you, and then you could have just done all the work of trying to match him?

You pushed the thought out of your head, reaching to ladle more punch into yours and Jackson’s cups and taking a large gulp as you searched the party once more for your roommate. “Hey, have you seen Seol?”

“I think she might have been in the den when I passed through,” Jackson replied, shrugging. “There’s so many people here I couldn’t really tell.”

“I guess I should go find her—“ you sighed, tipping back the rest of the contents in your cup. Jackson laughed loudly at your eagerness to drink, looking at you appreciatively.

“Since when do you get trashed at these parties?”

You shrugged, setting your empty cup on the counter beside you. “That wasn’t even a full cup! Come on, let’s go find Seol.”

You led the way once more with Jackson following close behind, pushing through the crowded bodies that filled every corner of the house, the loud, pounding music beating its rhythm in your chest and making your entire body vibrate. Once you were in the den, Jackson put his hand on your shoulder once more, pointing over it to direct your attention to the corner by the front door.

Jaebum stood there, a drink already in his hand as he talked and laughed loudly with a group of guys from the football team—coincidentally all wearing varsity letterman jackets similar to his and Jackson’s. You narrowed your eyes at the sight just as Jaebum looked up, connecting your gaze with his as a lazy, sexy smile adorned his face.

He motioned you over, wrapping you tight in his embrace and pulling you against his body so he could press his lips to your temple. Immediately, all the anger you had about the costume mishaps were forgotten, as it always was when Jaebum touched you.

“I found this little hottie in the kitchen downing drinks, does she belong to you?” Jackson joked, leaning in close to Jaebum so that he could be heard over the sound of the music. Jaebum grinned in return, taking one hand off your waist to clap Jackson on the shoulder in thanks.

“Hello, angel,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath cascading down and over your neck, sending an excited chill through your body. “You look gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” you asked, giving him a smile and patting the front of his jacket. “I guess you don’t look so bad either.”

Jaebum grinned wolfishly down at you, before leaning in to connect your lips briefly together. You couldn’t help but laugh as you pulled back, surprised at the sudden amount of PDA he was giving you in front of the guys on his team.

It wasn’t as if people didn’t know you and Jaebum were seeing each other, but the two of you had never put a label on your relationship. Jaebum wasn’t your boyfriend, and you weren’t his girlfriend, but you knew who you wanted and he knew who he wanted. It was simple to you two, but not to other people.

“Seol!” Jackson suddenly yelled, trying hard to be heard over the music as he waved his hands over his head to get her attention. You turned around in Jaebum’s grip just in time to see her slip in her heels like a new born deer, her ankle wobbling as she tried to steady herself. She was much more focused on not dropping the cup full of alcohol in her hand, her face twisting in horror as some of it sloshed out the sides and onto her skin.

“Careful there,” Jackson warned, placing a hand on her hip which she swatted away, making him pinch her in return.

“I’ve got it,” she reassured him, smiling lazily at you before taking a sip of her drink. You’d only been there for about an hour and a half, but you could already tell she was starting to tumble away from the land of the sober—her eyelids drooped lazily and she had obviously lost her ability to walk in the shoes she had been doing just fine in when you two left the house.

Jaebum taking his arm from around you and stepping away had your attention snapping back to him, the spot on your hip immediately cold from the absence of his heated grip. “Where are you going?” you asked, trying to keep the whine out of your voice but failing miserably.

You wanted to spend some time at the party with Jaebum since you two hadn’t seen each other all week, but the furrowing of his eyebrows told you to loosen up your grip—both physically and mentally. You dropped his arm away from you, watching him fix the sleeve you’d unknowingly just been bunching up.

“We’re up next for beer pong.”

Jackson had already joined the others in the living room and Seol had disappeared again—probably to go dance—leaving you and Jaebum by yourselves.

“Oh,” you were sure he couldn’t hear the disappointment in your voice because of the music, but he could see it on your face. You saw him sigh, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. “Fine, then.”

“Y/N, is this about the costumes? I told you I didn’t want to do it—I thought you understood?”

“It’s not—“ you started, but Jaebum’s friends were calling him then, making him look away from you and hold a finger up to them.

“Listen, can we talk about this later? It’s a party, let’s have fun,” he pleaded, giving you a small grin that did nothing for the irritation rising up in you.

“JB, come on, man!” Another guy shouted, motioning him to follow them into the living room for the second time, oblivious to the two of you having a conversation.

You shook your head, crossing your arms in annoyance. “Go, then. It’s nothing. Forget it, JB.”

His eyebrows raised at the usage of his shortened name. You’d insisted on calling him Jaebum since you met him, something that not many people did. You’d only done the name thing as a dig, and the obvious annoyance on Jaebum’s face told you it had worked.

“Oh, I’m JB now?” he asked, laughing mockingly at you. “You’re funny. I’ll see you later, Y/N. I hope then you’ll be in a better mood, okay?”

You clenched your jaw in anger as he walked away from you, joining the others in the living room around the small table filled with red cups and water. You knew you were slightly over-reacting about the costumes, but it was more than just that—this was how Jaebum always was. It was a game of push and pull with him. He’d show you attention in front of others—and more often than not, behind closed doors—but then he’d be nonchalant and cold, as if the intimate words he whispered in your ear were nothing other than just that. Words.

You took off towards the kitchen once more, knowing that the only way to get through this dumb Halloween party and Jaebum’s ignorance was to do one thing: drink.

From your position in the corner of the house, you could clearly see Jaebum by the ping pong table, cheering his teammates on as they started the tie-breaker round. You’d done nothing since he’d left you, nursing your third cup of punch sourly as you watched him play since Seol was nowhere to be found to distract you.

You were so busy watching you didn’t notice a body suddenly take up the space beside yours. It was only when they spoke in your ear did you jump, almost dropping the cup in your hand.

“You look like you’re having tons of fun over here by yourself,” Yugyeom teased, following your gaze that was previously zoned in on Jaebum. You grinned shamelessly at being caught, turning your attention to the tall boy beside you and taking in his all-black and leather outfit.

“Oh yeah, tons,” you giggled, a little too loudly. “What are you supposed to be? A bad boy?”

Yugyeom shrugged, his dark gaze a stark contrast to the boyish grin spreading across his face. “If that’s what you want me to be. Maybe I just need some lighter colors in my life,” his eyes darted down to the white dress you were wearing, taking in the short hem line that just dusted the top of your thighs.

You consciously pulled it down a little, but didn’t take your eyes off his face, raising an eyebrow in thought as you fought back another laugh at his cheesy line. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yup,” he replied, popping the ‘p’ and reaching down to pluck the drink out of your hand and sit it on a surface nearby. “Wanna dance, angel?”

You grimaced, shaking your head slightly. “I don’t really dance.”

Yugyeom’s grin didn’t falter a bit at the rejection. “Really? I do. But that’s okay, we can stay here and talk instead.”

“Okay,” you agreed, relaxing due to his laid back attitude. He leaned against the wall, close enough so that he could hear you over the music and waited for you to start the conversation. “I see you around campus a lot, we must be in the same major or something.”

“I’m actually a street dance major,” he said, laughed at your shocked expression that followed.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “So that’s why you wanted to ask me to dance? To show off your moves?”

“Something like that.”

“Wow. I should have said yes,” you laughed.

“What about you, Y/N?”

���I’m a Chem major.”

“Ah,” Yugyeom clucked his tongue. “The Chem major and the football star. What a match.”

Your gaze drifted back over to Jaebum at the mention, watching as he let a girl blow on his ping pong ball for good luck before tossing it across the table. It flew over the cups and right onto the floor and you celebrated a little inside at both of their obvious disappointment. Serves him right for being flirty with other girls.

“Yeah,” you muttered bitterly. “A match made in heaven.”

“Is that another angel joke?”

“Shut up.”

Commotion was happening in the kitchen as a group of people crowded around the circular dining table, and Yugyeom looked over his shoulder before nudging you, “There’s a game of Circle of Death happening in there, you wanna join?”

You shrugged in agreement and he led the way, grabbing the two of you fresh drinks and returning to stand around the circle. A deck of cards was spread around a tall boy can in the center and the first person was just starting.

“Two…you!” Wendy said, pointing across the circle at a boy in your major, Youngjae. He took a sip of from his cup as Wendy placed her card under the tab of the beer. Next was Jua, and she drew a seven. Hands went up instantly in the air, fingers pointed to the heavens. Yugyeom was deemed as the last and had to drink.

The game went on for a more rounds, each card with its own rule, each one divvying out more and more sips of drink and making the players get louder and sillier as it went on. Yugyeom was standing closer to you now, his side pressed up against yours but you didn’t mind, he was warm and tall—just a little taller than Jaebum—and smelled good and you found yourself leaning on him a little as the alcohol began to blur the edges of your judgement.

“This is the kicker, boys!” Yoongi said, slapping his card down on the wooden surface. It was an ace: the waterfall card. The table collectively groaned. This was an evil card, the way to get the person who drank after you chugging their entire drink in seconds and ultimately the easiest and fastest way to get fucked up while playing the game.

You turned to the devil himself beside you, who was already looking at you with a dignified smirk on his face. “You’re in for it, angel.”

“Yugyeom, come on…” you complained, looking down at the full contents of your cup, the red punch sloshing around as you leaned into him. “Go easy.”

“In your dreams!” he laughed, pushing you away from him. “Get ready.”

The first person lifted their drink from their lips and the rest followed in suit. You watched Yugyeom out of the corner of your eye, taking small sips from your drink as you watched his throat work to swallow the contents of his cup. In a row, people began to lower their drinks until it was just Yugyeom and the people to your right. He drank and drank until the people behind side you were stomping their feet in annoyance while the rest weren’t drinking were whooping and hollering, encouraging him to go on. You finally reached out and punched him in the side, causing him to choke on his punch and pull it away from his mouth.

“You fucker!” you yelled, showing him the shallow contents of you cup as he let out a loud laugh.

“Oops?”

“Oops my ass,” Mark, a member of Yugyeom’s dance team, scoffed. “I almost died over here just cause you wanna get little miss priss drunk! I’m drinking tequila, you asshole!”

Yugyeom shrugged, flipping him off, and the game continued. A few rounds later, Yugyeom picked up a jack from the circle of cards. “What’s this?”

“It makes you the question master,” Wendy explained. “You ask people questions and they have to answer with another question. If they get stumped or don’t answer with a question they have to drink as punishment.”

Yugyeom nodded, thinking for a few seconds as his eyes glazed over the table and landed on you. He licked his lips before asking, “Is it just me or did you get hotter?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you aren’t just drunk?”

He winked and moved on to another person.

“What the fuck is your costume supposed to be?”

“What the fuck is yours?” Mark replied, irritated.

“What’s your name?”

“Aw, don’t you remember me?” Wendy batted her eyelashes at him.

“Aren’t you in my psychology class?”

“Aren’t you failing that class?”

He turned back to you. “What’s underneath the dress?”

“D-don’t you think that’s a little rude?” you stuttered, surprised by his sudden boldness.

“What if I wanted to take you upstairs and see for myself?”

Laughter exploded around the table, but you saw Mark roll his eyes. Over the course of the game, a few people had come around the circle to watch it unfold, and you noticed Jackson’s surprised expression from the outside.

“Oh, come on, Yugyeom,” Jua said, crossing her arms. “That’s not fair to ask Y/N so many questions, what about the rest of us?”

“Aren’t you a virgin?” you asked finally, face flushed red from the uncomfortable warmness that was creeping up your body—rather from the party punch or the intense stare Yugyeom was giving you, you couldn’t tell.

“What if I’m not?”

“What kind of girl do you think I am, Yugyeom?”

He grinned, leaning closer to you so that his breath washed over your face as he spoke, twisting your stomach into a knot.

“Can I kiss you and find out?”

He was looking down at you with half-lidded eyes now, so close to your face that you could see the single freckle that sat under his eye. His lips were just a fraction away from yours, it would take no effort at all to close the distance and press yours against the plush pinkness that baited you, daring to make you cross a line with someone you’d just formally met at the party.

You shook yourself out of his trance, leaning away from him and chugging your drink, to which the table clapped in celebration. Jackson looked relieved as well, blowing out a breath as Jaebum came to the circle beside him. The grim look on his face told him he’d just seen your almost-kiss and your stomach twisted in guilt. You’d completely forgotten about Jaebum and the party unfolding around you in the light of Yugyeom’s distracting mouth and tempting questions, and the look on his face told you he was not only a little hurt, but a lot pissed.

You avoided his eyes and kept your focus on the game in front of you, just a few more cards to go due to the deck developing under the tab of the beer can in the center. Yugyeom was quiet beside you, obviously noticing Jaebum’s presence as well. He didn’t apologize for his bold comments, but he also didn’t say anything more to you, which you were thankful for.

The game went around the table again and came back to you. You took a single card from the circle—a jack—and pressed your thumb to the table, watching as everyone followed in suit with Youngjae being the slowest and taking a gulp of his punch.

You stuck your card until the tab, but your hand brushed the deck that was sticking out already and you heard the inevitable hiss of the top popping open. Everyone yelled in celebration at ultimately winning the game due to your clumsiness. You groaned as Wendy reached across the table, popping the top open and handing you the tall boy. “Here you go girl,” she laughed. “Drink up!”

Youngjae started a chant of “Chug! Chug! Chug!” and everyone joined in, even Yugyeom who was chuckling slightly at your misfortune. You started to drink but the carbonation was too much for your throat and settled awkwardly in your stomach, mixing with the concoction of alcoholic drinks you’d already downed before. You brought it away from your mouth, grimacing at the bitter acid taste it left on your tongue.

You locked eyes with Jaebum across the table and he broke through the circle and came towards you, your knight in shining armor saving you because he remembered you absolutely despised the taste of beer. He snatched the can out of your hand, raising it up in a toast to the others surrounding the table. “I’ll save my lady here from puking in the back of my truck tonight,” he laughed. “Cheers!”

You raised an eyebrow at his use of my lady, but you were thankful for the diversion, watching as his throat worked to swallow the contents of the can quickly before he was crushing it in his hand, hyped up from the yells and cheers around him at the table.

“JB! What a fucking gentleman!” Jackson yelled, coming to where you two were and clapping Jaebum on the shoulder, feigning infatuation and pretending to faint onto you. “Isn’t he so dreamy, Y/N?”

Jaebum just laughed, and you saw out of the corner of your eye, Yugyeom slinking away into the other room, obviously not in the mood to be confronted by Jaebum for flirting with you so obviously.

Jaebum tugged on your hand, bringing your gaze back to his as he attempted to pull you from the crowd. “Let’s go outside for a minute, yeah?”

You followed him, quickly realizing his tight grip on your hand was not because he was afraid of losing you in the bodies that packed the house, but because he was still somewhat angry about the scene that had just unfolded in front of his eyes. When you two were out of earshot and around the side of the house, he let go, practically throwing your hand away from him.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he asked, his jaw squared in annoyance. “What the fuck was that, in there?”

You folded your arms across your chest. “You tell me first, Jaebum.”

“What?”

“I saw you with that girl over at the beer pong table,” you snapped. “Why don’t you tell me what that was before you jump down my throat?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? That wasn’t anything! Don’t try to make this about me, Y/N. I wasn’t getting all cozy with that dance fucker and then almost-kissing him in front of all of our friends!”

Your face flushed with embarrassment, but you refused to let him believe he was the right one in this situation.

“Why do you care! You don’t want to be seen with me, so I can do whatever I want!”

“So this is about the fucking costumes,” he muttered rolling his eyes in annoyance. “Listen, I just didn’t want to spend money for one night, okay? It’s easy to just dress up with the guys because we’re guys. No one gives two shits about showing up in a costume bought from the store.”

You shrieked in annoyance. “Are you kidding me? Jaebum, I asked you to pick what you were gonna wear so that I could match you! I would have found a cheerleader costume to match you, but no. The “guys” are so much easier, right?”

“I didn’t know this meant so fucking much to you, Jesus.”

“It doesn’t!” you yelled, placing your hands on his chest and giving him your hardest shove. He only stumbled back a step or two from your weakness, but you felt satisfied at making him move at all. “It doesn’t fucking matter. This party doesn’t matter, the costumes don’t matter, you don’t matter. We don’t matter,” you said. “Fuck it all.”

Jaebum was fuming now, but so were you. You two stared each other down for a few seconds. You watched his nostrils flare with the breaths he was taking before he raked a hand through his hair, his face softening into mocking laughter.

“I don’t matter, huh? We don’t matter?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“It’s not.” You crossed your arms. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Then don’t stop me,” he taunted. “Don’t stop me right now from going to that girl from the beer pong table and having her blow on some real balls.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spat. You didn’t want to play Jaebum’s games, but your stomach twisted at the thought of him actually doing it.

“See ya,” he said, spinning on his heel and throwing you a peace sign on his shoulder. He didn’t look back, as if to prove his point, and you stood with your arms still crossed, your lips pressed together in a thin line as you refused to let so much as a peep out.

If Jaebum wanted to play these games, then fine. You didn’t need it. You would go find Yugyeom and kiss the shit out of him and let him see what was under your dress or whatever, while Jaebum got a shitty blow job from one of his groupies that followed the football team around and came to every game, and he could just forget your name, forget you existed and never talk to you again. Never touch you, never press his firm body against yours, never kiss you again, never look at you that way that made your toes curl with anticipation right before he smiled a smile that was just for you—

“Jaebum, you asshole! You’re such a jerk!” you exploded. He froze in walking away from you, his head turning to the left to look slightly over his shoulder. Even from that angle, you could see the muscle of his cheeks working, an annoying ass smirk twisting up one side of his mouth in victory.

He walked back to you much faster than he’d walked away, reaching out so that he could curl one hand into your hair and one around your waist, angling your face up so that he could slant his lips against yours. The kiss was powerful and slow, all lips and no tongue and just the right amount of pressure that had you softening the furrow of your eyebrows as you let Jaebum take control.

“You’re such a brat,” he murmured between kisses, “Always tempting me.”

“I am not!” you insisted, pulling away only for Jaebum to direct his lips to the skin of your neck. He sank his teeth into the juncture of your shoulder, making you groan in satisfaction as you tried to force words out. “It’s—n-not me—it’s you! You’re always—ngh, Jaebum—”

His hand was making his way up your dress as he nipped and sucked, fiddling with the frilly panties you were wearing underneath. His finger traced a line up your slit over the fabric, and you bucked into his hand, already so needy for his touch.

“What’s it gonna take you for you trust me, huh?” he asked, his voice gruff despite the soft circling of his fingertips and the sensitive topic you two were discussing. “What do you want?”

“You,” you mumbled, your voice lowering. “I want to know that you’re mine, and that I’m yours–and that I d-don’t–have to worry about anyone else standing, i-in the—Jesus Jaebum, I really can’t concentrate with you doing that!” You pulled away, eyebrows lowering in anger once more. “You can’t just touch your way out of this one. We need to talk about this!”

“Talk about what,” he asked, removing his hands as he backed away from you, sighing heavily. Your shoulders drooped a little at his sudden distance. He was always cold when it came to this topic.

“That,” you whined, gesturing at his expression and posture, “That! Exactly that! Jaebum, I don’t get you. You treat me so nice sometimes, so soft, and then I think we are something but then, in public we—” you trailed off, rerouting your argument, “Am I important to you? What do you want from me? What are we?”

Jaebum sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked everywhere but at your face, as if that would help him pull some answers out of the air surrounding you.

Your stomach sank with every moment that passed, until the corners of your mouth were pulling down sadly, “I see now.”

“Y/N, listen—” he started, but you cut him off.

“I don’t want to hear some bullshit, Jaebum,” you said. “I just want to know the truth. If you can’t give it to me, then I’m going back inside, and I’m not gonna turn around or come back if you call me.”

He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but his pride got in the way and he stopped, pressing his lips together and crossing his hands over his chest. “Fine, then,” he stated coldly. “Go.”

You wanted to stay, you wanted to fight for him, wanted him to fight for you. But your argument was getting nowhere and there wasn’t much to be said anymore. If Jaebum wouldn’t open up for you, wouldn’t give you exclusivity, then what was the point continuing the conversation?

You bit your lip, fighting the tears that threatened to spill out the corners of your burning eyes and turned to head back into the house. It was silent behind you, and it took everything in you not to turn around and look back at him, just to see even there was even a hint of regret on his face. But you knew if you saw it, it would hurt so much worse, and you didn’t want to put yourself through that pain.

So you kept walking, back towards the house to find Seol in the crowd of people that still scattered the inside, and beg her to take you home so you could spend the rest of the night in bed.

You definitely hated this holiday and the memories it would now hold.