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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

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Dog Unleashed (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Mild Angst? | Established Relationship Word Count: ~11k | AO3 Synopsis: Starting a relationship with the man that had been your best friend since you were a kid was and wasn’t easy in equal parts. It was, because there wasn’t anyone in this world you trusted more than Minho, there wasn’t anyone that made you feel this safe. But sometimes, it just wasn’t. Not only because of the physical distance, but also because of the challenges that posed having a supernatural boyfriend who didn’t like to talk about his equally supernatural problems. [This story is a sort of pt. 2 to Camping with Wolves, and it’s an instalment of my WereRoomies series]. Warnings: pet names (baby, kitten, etc) · a bit of miscommunication (it’ll be fine, i promise) · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). please let me know if i missed anything !

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

Author’s Note: i dedicate this one to my fellow monsterfuckers. this had been sitting in my WIPs for a while, but i finally got some inspo to write about Minho and his kitten, so here it is 🥰 kudos to the anon from this ask for cementing in my brain the idea that minho would text his kitten every morning like he does here. as usual, don’t hesitate to let me know if anything’s phrased weirdly, or to leave your thoughts in the tags/captions/send an ask/etc. y’all know i really appreciate them💜

for those that might not know, a queen is an adult female cat that hasn’t been spayed.

Minho’s WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves · Dog Unleashed · Are You There, Wolf?

Smut Warnings: sexting? (nudes are sent) · an anal plug is used · oral [M&F.Rec] · mouth fucking · fingering [F.Rec] · forced orgasm [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv] · good ol’ rut driven intercourse · creampie · knotting · a barely present breeding kink.

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

You’d always known you were in love with your best friend, although you weren’t quite sure when you fell for him exactly, much less when you realised it.

Maybe it had been the moment you saw him on the brink of death, attached to all those life support devices after he’d been attacked by a werewolf… Or maybe before that, when he started to become the most reliable person in your life… Or, maybe, it was the very first day you met him, when he was placing injured stray kittens in a box to get them to a vet as soon as possible so they wouldn’t die.

Regardless, it didn’t really matter to you when it happened or when you noticed it, all that mattered to you right now was the fact that, after one fateful camping trip to the woods, you had finally been able to confess your feelings. That, even though you had never even entertained the possibility of him wanting you, he actually did. And not only did he want you, he wanted you a lot–for a long time, too.

Minho was your favourite person in this world, and starting a relationship with him seemed to have only heightened that feeling tenfold. He was your biggest supporter, he was always there for you. Even if you lived almost an hour away, you knew that, at any given moment, you’d be able to call him and he’d be there for you. Either on the phone or he’d drive to your place as fast as he legally could.

The distance hardly ever seemed to matter. Of course you missed him every day–you’d always done so, even when you were just friends–Of course you wished you could go to bed with him next to you every night, but that wasn’t a possibility at this time, so you both made do however you could.

Your previously monthly schedule to hang out had turned into a weekly one. You both tried to meet up every weekend. Most of the time it was you who drove to his place–to his den–since being surrounded by him and his family was always incredibly comforting to you. It was always much, much better than your cold, borderline sterile flat.

He’d asked you to move in with him several times throughout the years, and you had never really entertained that offer, mostly because of your job–and maybe also because, at the time, your feelings for him were too hard to ignore even with the distance, so living with your best friend who you had deep feelings for simply would’ve made it all so much more difficult.

Now that you were officially A Thing, the offer hung in the air. Minho hadn’t asked again after you got together, but you knew it was on the tip of his tongue every time you both became tangled limbs on his bed. And even though he had not asked yet, you were still thinking about it, wondering what you would answer, and how you’d handle the aftermath of that answer.

If you said yes, you’d have to drop your job and try to find one closer to his place, and honestly, at this time, you weren’t sure you were ready to face the levels of anxiety job hunting always brought you to. But then, saying no wouldn’t have felt right at all, because, ultimately, you wanted to be as close to Minho as you could. You supposed it was for the best that he hadn’t talked to you about it yet, it’d give you more time to figure things out, to mentally prepare yourself.

The sound of your phone vibrating on your nightstand brought you back from your thoughts. You’d been waking up earlier than usual these days, probably because you had a lot of things on your mind, so you had been lying there for around an hour already, waiting for your alarm to go off.

The vibration wasn’t produced by your alarm, though. It was produced by an incoming message, so you stretched your arm, taking your phone from where it had been charging all night. A smile made its way to your face as you read the preview of a message you already expected to receive, and as you read the contact name your dear boyfriend had decided to add to his number no more than two days after you got together.

You wasted no more time and unlocked your phone to read the whole thread.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: good morning kitten > did you sleep well? > was i in your dreams?

Minho had always had his own way of being clingy when you were friends. He’d sent messages throughout the day with any and every thought that he wanted to share with you, he’d try to hang out for as long as possible, or he would hug and cuddle you for hours when possible. Now, as your boyfriend, that clinginess had doubled, and you were honestly enjoying the extra attention he was giving you, just as much as you were enjoying his extra need for attention.

< You: Of course you were. < You’re the man of my dreams, after all.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: 🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀 > 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 > cmon > tell me everything > dont you dare leave any details out

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you moved to your notes app, copying the text you’d written on this morning’s note and pasting it in the conversation with your boyfriend. It was a habit you’d picked up throughout the years, to write your dreams in a journal or your phone as soon as you woke up, so you wouldn’t forget. Minho knew, of course. So if he found out you dreamt something, he wanted to have every single detail.

Once you finally got out of bed that morning–at the protests of Sir Percival, your elderly cat that loved to cuddle you to sleep, a cat Minho himself had rescued when you were little–you started getting ready for your day. It was Thursday, but you were already excited for the weekend since you had taken a compensation day tomorrow, so you’d have three whole days you could potentially spend with your boyfriend. He didn’t know yet, though. Your plan was to surprise him tonight, and you hoped everything worked in your favour.

With a fresh face of makeup, dressed in your most professional outfit, you took the bag you kept ready in your closet, full with clean changes of clothes, pyjamas, underwear, toiletries, and anything you could need for your weekend out of the house. The bag was a bit more stuffed than usual today, all thanks to the other part of the surprise you had prepared.

Shooting your friend–and neighbour–a quick text to confirm she’d be able to take care of Sir Percival during your absence, you finally took your belongings and made your way out of your home, into the elevator, and finally to the basement, where your car was parked. Once you had placed the extra bag in the boot of your car, you opened your messaging app again, searching your conversation with one of Minho’s closest friends, and the alpha of his pack, Chris, so you could send him a text, too.

Thankfully, it seemed like Chris was awake already, because he replied almost immediately.

< You: Hellooooo, Mr Alpha of the Pack.

> Chris (Minho): hey mrs kitten of my left hand > hows it going

< You: All good, all good. < I was wondering if it was okay for me to stay over tonight? < And, subsequently, the entire weekend? < I wanna surprise Minho. Please don’t tell him.

> Chris (Minho): of course u can stay over > u dont even need to ask at this point tbh > also consider my mouth sealed shut > welcome back (:

As soon as you knew you could carry out your surprise the day seemed to slow down immensely. Work was just taking too long to be over, the minutes seemed to be lasting a hundred and twenty seconds instead of sixty, and by the time five o’clock rolled in you were already coming out of the office and practically sprinting to your car.

As soon as you sat down on the driver’s seat and secured your seat belt, you checked your phone to see if your boyfriend had answered the message you had sent him earlier in the day. Thankfully, he had just replied.

< You: How’re you doing, baby? < How’s work?

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: hi kitten > on a break rn > but im pissed > people are just so bad at taking care of their furry friends > cuz theres this like huge ass dog that swallowed a ball > a whole ball baby can you believe? > all cuz these people just werent paying attention to him > hes done this before you know? > im gonna have to stay back for a few hours > he needs surgery > and im the only one that can carry him around > so im pissed > sorry for rambling ☹

You did feel bad for Minho, you knew these things usually got to him, especially since he could quite literally understand his furry patients. However, you also felt relieved, because his overtime meant you would be able to sneak into his flat no problem.

< You: Aw, baby, I’m sorry 🙁 < That sucks. < I hope the big baby makes it just fine. < Do you need a pick-me-up?

You had this habit with Minho even before when you were just friends. When your day was rough either of you two would offer a pick-me-up, which previously consisted of sending cute pictures of Sir Percival, or memes, or just videos of cute animals in general. Lately, though, your pick-me-ups had turned a bit more… Intimate.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: god yea > i could use a pickmeup > you can send whatever you want > anything really > but if it influences your decision > know that im alone in the break room > and that i miss you a lot > a whole lot

You chuckled, amused at just how Minho would take every chance you presented to him. So you went into that private folder in your gallery, searching for the most recent pictures you’d taken, the ones with the new lingerie set that you had yet to use.

< You: [sent a photo] < [sent a photo] < [sent a photo] < [sent a photo]

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: ffffuck me > thats a pickmeup alright > look at you > is that new? > that bras so fucking sheer tf > barely covering your tits > you should bring that tomorrow > so i can rip it off of you

< You: I’ll see what I can do 😇 < Going to start driving now. < Let’s talk later, yeah?

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: alright kitten > drive safe > lmk when youre home

You didn’t have that particular set in your bag today, but you were sure that what you did have would be even better.

Recently, Minho and his pack had added these digital door locks to the doors of their den. You’d always had a spare key to Minho’s flat for emergencies, but now whenever you came here and tapped the exact date of the day you and Minho met made you feel incredibly special, maybe embarrassingly so.

You still remember when Minho told you that was the number combination he had decided to use. He’d presented his cheek to you and asked ‘aren’t I the best boyfriend ever?’ to which you couldn’t help but laugh, kissing his cheek and replying ‘you’re the cutest boyfriend ever’.

You gave him amazing head an uncountable amount of times that weekend.

As soon as you were inside you settled your belongings in his room, and took your time to freshen up. After around thirty minutes of you being in his flat, Minho had sent you a message whining that he had finally been able to leave work and that he was dying to be home already. So you quickly got yourself ready, after all, the surprise you’d prepared today wasn’t just your presence.

You’d honestly been wanting to try this for a while; you’d been eyeing this entire lingerie set and its added accessories for months, and a couple of weeks ago you finally got the courage to get it. Was it a bit corny? Perhaps. But you knew Minho, and you were certain that the combination of the black top with the cat-shaped cutout in the middle showing where your breasts met, the flimsy panties that could very well be called lacy straps more than anything else, the black stockings with squishy paw pads, the choker with a dangling bell around your neck, the cat ears clipped to your hair, and the plug with the attached black tail inside your ass would make him lose it. Which was exactly what you wanted.

A riled up Minho meant a riled up werewolf boyfriend that’d fuck you silly, and after spending days without seeing him, that was exactly what you were craving tonight.

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you heard the characteristic beep, beep, beeps of the front door’s keypad. They were obnoxiously loud and they seemed to bounce off the walls and shoot right inside of you, making you all giddy. So you got comfortable on Minho’s bed, laying on your stomach, adjusting your tail so it’d rest over your back, and propping your chin on your hands.

Very quickly, the sound of the door closing shut was replaced with the sound of your boyfriend sighing, coupled with an ungraceful thud as you figured Minho dropped his bag by the entrance. And suddenly, everything was quiet.

“No fucking way!” You couldn’t help but smile as you heard your boyfriend’s footsteps grow closer. “Please tell me I’m not fucking hallucinating your scent in my house right now, that’d be so mean…”

As soon as he reached the open bedroom door, he brought a hand to his chest and gasped. The surprise lasted a second, because he immediately crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?”

“Welcome home, Minho”, you gave him a smile, just as you kicked your stocking clad feet in the air.

“Well…” Minho walked to the bed, stopping by the end of it and reaching for one of the cat ears clipped to your hair to flick it softly. “It seems like a kitten has truly made her way into my house, hm?”

You–very shamelessly if you might add–moved your gaze from his eyes to his crotch, seeing the bulge in his trousers grow with every second he looked at you, and it sent a rush of excitement down your spine. Returning your eyes to his, you simply smiled at him again before you rolled onto your back, exposing your stomach to him.

The motion had the plug in your ass moving a bit, and immediately you felt yourself heat up with arousal, especially so as you took notice of Minho’s blown pupils, and his borderline predatory stare.

“I was just missing my wolf boyfriend so bad. Figured I’d pay him a visit. Give him a little surprise”, you dragged your hands down your torso, from your chest, all the way down to squeeze them right between your bent legs.

“Mmm…” Tipping his head to the side a bit, Minho’s eyes fixed for a moment on the exposed skin of your breasts, only to move along to your exposed stomach. “I’d say it’s more than a little surprise”.

“Do you like it, though?”

“Kitten”, Minho’s eyes snapped back to yours. He moved his hand to his crotch, effectively diverting your attention to the movement just as he cupped himself over his trousers. “Look how fucking hard I am. I’m absolutely fucking delighted”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching for his crotch, too, slipping your hand between his and the denim, giving him a hefty squeeze.

“Baby, wait. I have to take a shower”, despite his words, his hips bucked, chasing the warmth of your palm as you pressed it a bit more firmly against his erection. “I’m serious. I’m probably covered in all sorts of animal fluids”.

“You could be covered in my fluids, though”.

“God”, Minho dragged his hands over his face, pulling himself away from you entirely and walking towards the door, making you pout. You knew he was right, he surely needed his shower, but the ache that had steadily been building between your legs as soon as he stepped into the room was just too strong to ignore.

Before he disappeared into the hall, he turned to you again. “Wait for me right there, okay? Just like that. Won’t be long, promise”.

So you giggled, reaching for your phone as soon as he was out of your sight to keep yourself entertained while he was in the bathroom.

The sight of your boyfriend, all flushed from his hot shower, with droplets still travelling down his torso that got caught on the towel he had wrapped around his hips, was, quite honestly, mouth watering. As soon as he was standing at the end of the bed, with a smirk plastered on his pretty face, you just reached for the towel, letting it fall on the floor to find his already hard length.

“And I haven’t even touched you, baby”, you chuckled, licking your lips, looking up at him from where you were lying on the bed, still on your back, right where he left you. Even upside down, you still found Minho to be one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen, and you honestly felt incredibly happy you could be here with him right now.

“You didn’t need to”, he walked closer, placing a hand on your cheek as he looked down at you. “I got so fucking hard just thinking about you being out here while I was in the shower. Now, kitten, come a bit closer to the edge and open up. Hm?”

You just did as asked, letting your head fall over the edge of the bed as your boyfriend took a hold of his length and guided it to your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan as soon as he eased himself inside, just like it didn’t seem like he could hold back the groan that left his lips as soon as your lips wrapped around his cock.

“Mmm… Fuck”, with a deep inhale, Minho threw his head back, starting to rock his hips, fucking your mouth, and the sounds coming out of his mouth, coupled with the feel of him slowly easing into in and out of our throat had you pressing your thighs together.

Minho took his time with you from then on, teasing you, bringing you to the brink of insanity numerous times. He played and toyed with you however he pleased, getting you close to your high with his hands before he slowed down his motions to let it dwindle down, only to do it all over again with his mouth. He did this several times, for a while, until you were desperately begging to be fucked.

‘Hands and knees, kitten. Ass in the air, just like the queen you are. I’ll fuck you just how you want’, and how could you not comply when your body felt tingly all over? From Minho’s words to the way he held your hips as he plunged his cock into your aching heat, all combined had your senses on overdrive, all thoughts finally flying out the window as soon as he started to pound you to the bed, reducing you to a moaning, borderline pathetic mess.

The force of his thrusts had the bell around your neck tinkling with every harsh smack of his hips against your rear, barely even audible over the sound of your desperate pleas and his blissed grunts. His pace didn’t relent until you were shaking with your release, until he pushed you to the brink of overstimulation chasing his own, until the results of his high painted your back as a drawn out groan came from his lips.

The soaked washcloth on your back made your body jolt. ‘Shh, you scaredy cat. It’s okay’, Minho mumbled as he cleaned you up, offering words of encouragement while he helped you get out of your soiled outfit, removing each item one by one–taking special care with the tail plug to avoid any discomfort, wiping away any remnants of lube or cum off of your body.

As soon as you were completely nude and clean enough, you finally plopped on the bed with a satisfied sigh, feeling incredibly light and content. Minho pulled you into his arms, placing a kiss on your forehead as he hugged you tightly. “Mmm… That was so good, baby. Best girlfriend ever. My dearest kitten, I missed you so much”.

You chuckled, feeling your heart swell in your chest as you cuddled closer to him. “Missed you, too, baby”, you pressed a brief kiss on his chest before you rested your head over his heart, listening to its slightly accelerated pace. “How was your day? How was it with the big baby?”

So Minho started talking, recounting any and every detail he could remember of his work day. You could listen to him speak for hours, honestly. Especially at times like these, when his volume was this low, when his words came out slowly, when he looked this peaceful.

He asked about your day, too, of course. He always did. So you told him, only the details worth telling, not really feeling like thinking about your boring job right now. Minho knew that anyway, he’d always known you hardly ever felt like talking about it, so he never pressed for any extra details unless he got particularly intrigued by something–meaning, unless any possible office gossip was mildly interesting.

These days, though, there had been something on your mind, so you figured now was as good a time as any to talk about it. “Just out of curiosity…” You mumbled, playing with Minho’s fingers. “When is your rut starting?”

You knew about ruts. You’ve known since Minho’s very first rut when you were still teens, but he never really liked to talk about them. He always seemed to avoid the topic completely whenever you tried to ask him about it before. Most of the knowledge you had on the topic was given to you by Jisung or the other girls at the den, but you wanted to know about your boyfriend’s experience specifically.

“How do you feel about hot dogs for dinner?” Was all Minho replied, immediately untangling his limbs from yours and getting up from the bed.

You blinked a few times, confused at the sudden question, watching him put on the joggers he kept folded on his nightstand and leave the bedroom entirely. Was he… Was Minho ignoring your question? Why? It was a normal thing to ask, wasn’t it? You were his partner, you assumed you had to know these things.

So you stood up from the bed, making your way to the dresser to fish a fresh pair of panties from your bag to cover yourself, and one of Minho’s oversized t-shirts to pull it over your head. If Minho thought he was going to avoid the subject like he had done all these years he was certainly in for a surprise.

You found your boyfriend walking around his kitchen, getting pots from the oven and ingredients from the fridge. Leaning on the kitchen island, you crossed your arms over your chest, focusing your gaze on him.

“Do you want one or tw–”

“Why are you changing the subject?” You interrupted him, voice level, looking him right in the eyes. “I know you’ve never liked talking about your ruts, but now that I’m your girlfriend I figured I should be prepared, so I’d like to–”

“Prepared?” Minho was looking at you like you had three heads, like what you were saying made no sense. “You don’t need to be prepared for anything, kitten. Don’t worry about it”, he returned to his task, dismissing you entirely–or at least, you felt like he was dismissing you.

Walking his way, you got between him and the sink, where he was about to place a pot–to fill it with water, you presume. You saw Minho’s Adam’s apple bob, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“Minho. Look at me”.

He sighed, placing the pot next to you on the counter. Turning away from you, Minho brought his hands to his hair, ruffling it and tugging at it.

“Minho–”

“I’m not spending my rut with you”, Minho cut you off, and your eyes widened immediately. “So you don’t have to worry about that”.

You knew from Jisung and the girls that werewolves, especially alphas, preferred to have a companion to get through their rut, and also that, whenever they found themselves going into rut and they had a significant other, they craved said significant other the entire time, which was why his words stung. They pierced your heart, more than you ever thought they would.

“You don’t… Want to spend your rut with me?” You could feel your hands tremble, just as you felt your heart sink to your stomach.

“No”, Minho replied firmly.

You scoffed. The tremble in your hands seemed to increase, not only because you were hurt, but also because, all of a sudden, you were absolutely pissed. “So you don’t want me”, your voice was way too level, cold, scarily so.

“It’s not… It’s not like that”, Minho looked slightly alarmed, shaking his head, and with his eyes wide open. Still, he took a step closer to you, but you moved away.

“What is it, then?”

“I just… Don’t want to”, he swallowed, once again avoiding your eyes. “Can we–Maybe we can talk about this some other time, right now’s not–”

“I want to talk about this now, though. That’s why I asked”, you could feel the lump form in your throat the longer you looked at Minho, the longer he stayed quiet. It went on for a while, a thick, uncomfortable aura settled between you two. You’d never had such an unnerving exchange with Minho, so this was a completely unfamiliar territory.

Eventually, you just couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine, then. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s alright. I can’t stay here, though”, you walked past him and made your way towards the front door.

“Wait–!” was the last thing you heard Minho say before you slammed the door closed.

You were barefoot, still wearing only his shirt and your underwear. And as soon as you stepped out into the building’s corridor, you felt tears prick your eyes. The trembling in your hands seemed to have doubled, so you decided to go to the closest place you knew you’d be able to find comfort.

“It’s okay… It’s probably not what you’re thinking”, Jisung mumbled, caressing your hair, hugging you tightly against his chest while you cried.

“What else could it be, though?” You said between hiccups. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve probably felt embarrassed to be this emotional over something like this. But this was Jisung, your biggest confidant–second only to Minho in that regard.

Pulling yourself away from his chest, you rubbed the tears away with the back of your hand, feeling furious again. “Don’t you crave your partner when you’re in heat?”

“Yes, of course, but–”

“See?!”

“Listen to me”, Jisung held you by the shoulders, tightly, trying to ground you. “First of all, I’m an omega. The way I feel during my heat is different from the way he might feel during his rut. We’re instinctually different, yeah?”, you nodded, so he continued. “Second of all… Minho, he… He wasn’t born like this, remember? He’s a bit… Peculiar”.

“How so?”

“I can’t really explain it well, you know me… But he just… He’s really good at ignoring his instincts. So maybe… It’s something like that?” Jisung sighed, pulling you back into his chest. “I don’t know, babes. Minho’s a weird wolf”.

“He was a weird human, too”, you mumbled, rubbing your face on his top. “My weirdo…”

“I don’t doubt it”, Jisung chuckled as he kept caressing your hair, and honestly, it was helping you a lot. Even if you were still crying, at least you felt heard.

You both stayed in silence, until eventually Jisung fell back on the sofa with you in his arms, caressing your back or your hair, still trying to soothe you. You appreciated it. It wasn’t really in Jisung’s nature to care for people, but he often did, anyway. Or, at least, he tried his very best. He loved being on the receiving end of cuddles, but he also loved giving them, and he was great at it, too.

After a while, you pulled yourself from his chest, wiping your face with the back of your hand again. “You mind if I stay here tonight?”

“‘Course not. Minho wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I denied you shelter. Even when you’re asking for it because you’re mad at him”, Jisung chuckled, and it made you smile a bit.

You couldn’t help but pinch one of his adorably round cheeks. “You’re like the little brother I never had, you know?”

“I know”, he was positively beaming, and it warmed you up from the inside out. But then you thought about your boyfriend again, and you felt your lower lip wobble. Jisung looked at you, alarmed. You only saw him for a second, because you were burying your face in his chest again, crying again. He just held you tighter, sighing.

It was going to be a long night and you both knew it.

The gentle light filtering through the drapes was hitting your face, warming you up. You stirred awake, turning under the covers to lay on your other side. Even though your mind was still hazy, you still registered the presence in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. You assumed it was Jisung, so you got your hand out of the covers, blindly trying to find him.

“Morning”, you mumbled, finally making contact with his warm upper arm, and you patted him a few times.

“Morning”.

It wasn’t Jisung’s voice that greeted you. It was your boyfriend’s.

Your eyes snapped open. Minho was wearing just some washed out vest top and his grey joggers–the ones that were already too old and thin to wear out, the ones that he just used around the house, and his hair was tousled. Had he just gotten out of bed?

“Here you go. Drink up”, he handed you a glass of water. As soon as you saw the vessel filled almost to the top with liquid you realised just how much your head was throbbing, and how parched your mouth felt. You must’ve cried way more last night than you’d realised.

Sitting up, you stretched your limbs, and a small squeak left your lips with the motion. You took the glass from him, dawning it in one go, all as he just looked at you.

You were both silent for a moment, a long moment of you just looking at the glass in your hand and him looking at you. You could feel his gaze on you the entire time, but you didn’t dare speak first. You honestly didn’t even know what to say.

“It’s not that I don’t want you”, Minho broke the silence first, and he turned his gaze to his lap, where he linked his fingers together, playing with his thumbs. “Please, don’t ever think I don’t want you. You’re the most important person in my life, in this entire world, you know that, right?”

You looked at him for a moment. You still felt hurt, but after your crying session with Jisung last night, and after hydrating some, you realised you might have jumped to conclusions. You knew, of course. You knew you were Minho’s favourite person in this world. Because he always showed that to you.

All these years, Minho had not only told you that, but he had also always shown you how important you were to him. Just as he was to you. So you sighed, placing the glass on the nightstand and shuffling closer to him. “I do know that”.

Taking his hand in yours, you caressed his knuckles with your thumb. “But you do understand where I’m coming from with what I asked you last night, right?”

Minho sighed. “I do…”

He squeezed your hand briefly, only to bring it to his mouth to place a small kiss on the back of it.

“I’m… Scared”, out of all the things Minho could’ve said, those weren’t exactly the words you were expecting to hear, and they really took you by surprise, especially when he said them so quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed by them.

“Scared of what?”

Minho finally looked at your face, cupping your cheek with his free hand, dragging his thumb over the dried tears on your skin. “Baby, when I’m going through my rut not wanting you is exactly the opposite of what actually happens. All these years, every single rut, every single one, all I ever wanted was you”.

You felt yourself flush. “You did?”

“Mm… I’ve always wanted you, but twice a year, for as long as we’ve been friends, it’s heightened tenfold. Why do you think I never wanted to talk to you about my ruts? Do you not remember how I couldn’t look at your face for a month after I got the first one? The thoughts that roam in my head when I’m going through it are just… Filthy”.

“Minho… I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but you already say and do filthy things when we have sex?”

Minho chuckled at that, shaking his head a bit. “I mean, it’s not just what goes through my head… It’s what happens when those thoughts cross my mind”, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he continued talking. “I get so… Violent when I’m going through my rut… I… I’m really scared I’ll hurt you”.

Oh.

That was something you certainly hadn’t considered. But, Minho being violent for real didn’t seem to match him at all. He loved to pretend that he was mean and murderous, but, in reality, that wasn’t your Minho. “How… How violent?”

“I’ve broken beds before”, Minho shrugged. “And dressers. Doors… Many appliances… All by accident, but I did. Kitten, baby, you know I’m also an animal… I really don’t know how I’d react to your presence when I’m seriously feral. I… Don’t want to hurt you. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I did”.

He looked genuinely concerned, like he’d been hurting with this for a long time, and it made your heart feel heavy in your chest. So you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, nodding in understanding. That was when Minho finally leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead, then one on the tip of your nose, one on each cheek, and finally, one on your lips.

“I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted, baby. I should’ve… Communicated it better”, he mumbled the words on your cheek, placing a kiss on your skin again for good measure.

“You should’ve”, you mumbled back, finally looping your arms around his neck to pull him close, just as he hugged your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “But I’m sorry, too. You didn’t want to talk about it, and I pushed it”.

“I forgive you”, he pressed kisses on your neck, slow, tender kisses that had your heart fluttering in your chest and heat settling on your face.

“Me too…” You hugged him tighter, getting lost in his body heat and the feeling of his lips on your skin.

Minho shuffled around, getting under the duvet, and pulling you into his chest. “Let’s not go to bed without settling an argument ever again. Please?”

“Okay”, you mumbled against his chest, enjoying the smell of his fabric softener when you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry…”

“Me too”, he repeated, holding you a bit tighter, pressing a brief kiss to the top of your head.

After a maximum of ten seconds of silence, a couple of loud knocks made you jolt in Minho’s hold.

“You guys want pancakes?”

“Jisung! Were you eavesdropping?!” Minho shouted, making you laugh because of course Jisung was eavesdropping. It was Jisung.

“I won’t answer any accusatory questions without our Pack Mum here!”

You intercepted as you saw Minho was about to engage in possibly the pettiest discussion to ever happen in this flat. “Yes, Jisung! Yes, we want pancakes! Thank you, sweetie, you’re a great friend!”

The sound of Jisung’s footsteps got quieter the further down the hall he went, going towards the kitchen, you presumed. Just as you heard his shout of ‘of course I am!’

Minho scoffed, but he pulled you back into his chest. “You’re spoiling him rotten”.

“Technically, he’s yours to care for, Mr Left Hand of the Pack. I’m just the cool step-mum”, you chuckled, angling your head a bit to press kisses on his jaw. “Besides, don’t you want pancakes?”

“I do want pancakes”, Minho grumbled, rubbing his cheek on the top of your head, probably tangling your hair a bit in the process.

You both went silent after that, simply cuddling under the covers and sharing your warmth until Jisung called you to the kitchen for breakfast. You’d admit his pancakes were to die for, and after the rollercoaster of emotions you’d gone through the last handful of hours, you were grateful for the familiarity of a breakfast with Minho and Jisung. They always made you laugh with their antics, something that didn’t seem to change as the years went by–if anything, both of them just seemed to get funnier and weirder with age, and you loved to see it. You just loved them both with your whole heart.

With a stomach full of both sweet and savoury pancakes, with your boyfriend’s warm hand in yours, and a heart full of love, you just made your way back into Minho’s flat. The second you stepped into the threshold he just scooped you in his arms, making you giggle as he pressed kisses on your cheeks, taking you with him to the bathroom.

‘Need to get ready for work, want to shower with me?’ were the last coherent words coming out of Minho’s mouth before you found yourself drenched in lukewarm water, with your back against the cold tiles and his head between your legs, mumbling reassuring words against the skin of your inner thighs as he moved towards his destination.

‘Me not wanting you? Absurd. That’s absurd, kitten. I’ll show you just how much I want you’.

He might’ve been running late after that, but he still placed you on the kitchen counter once you were both dressed and squeaky clean, slotting himself between your legs and kissing you one last time. ‘Later, after work… Wanna take you to the park, to that ice-cream parlour you like. What do you think, kitten? Wanna go on a date with me?’ and, honestly, how could you refuse.

The girls of the pack had become good friends to you, which was quite refreshing. When it came to close friendships, you’d only ever had Minho and Jisung, which, even if you loved them to death, wasn’t the same as having friends that had gone through similar experiences in life–after all, the experience of being A Girl surrounded by supernatural creatures was a whole thing. Sure, you had one close female friend–your neighbour that usually took care of Sir Percival when you were gone–but even if you were comfortable when she was with you, there were things you just couldn’t talk about with her, so having these two girls in your life now was quite comforting.

Getting to sit on Chris’ sofa, with his girlfriend on one side, and Changbin’s girlfriend on the other while drinking a cup of relaxing tea was one of your favourite activities lately. Whenever you dropped by, you’d always try to make some time to hang out with them, and sometimes, like now, you liked to hear their opinions on certain things.

So, as soon as they were both available, and while you waited for Minho to get back from work, you seeked their advice.

The topic of discussion today was your boyfriend’s rut. Since Minho had always been very reserved when it came to giving you details about it, you honestly felt a bit lost, so you hoped the girls could help you understand the situation better. The conversation started after they swore they’d keep the details of what you talked about between you three, just like you always did whenever any of you needed some advice on a very private topic.

“Minho doesn’t really peg me as the violet type”, Chris’ girlfriend said as soon as you finished explaining the situation, looking thoughtful while her fingers tapped the mug in her hand.

“I agree”, Changbin’s girlfriend placed her empty mug on the coffee table, proceeding to turn to you and cross her legs on the sofa. “I’ve dealt with violent alphas before, and I don’t think Minho fits the criteria, to be honest…”

You grimaced a little at her words. You knew her story, how she had run away from an abusive pack with an equally abusive alpha, so you didn’t doubt her judgement, but it all only made you more confused. “Then? Why do you think he’d get violent during his ruts?”

She looked at you for a moment, pondering. After a few more moments, she finally spoke again. “Alphas… When they go through their ruts it’s hard for them to deal with their needs. Do you know if he gets violent when there’s another person involved?”

You shook your head. “As far as I’m aware, there’s never been another person involved”.

“Huh… Maybe that’s his problem”.

“Makes sense to me”, Chris’ girlfriend placed her mug on the coffee table and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the backrest, looking at the ceiling. “When Chris is going through his rut he’s so… Needy. In his own way, of course… I wonder how he dealt with it before we got together”.

As if on cue, the obnoxious beeps of the door’s keypad started to resonate in the flat. The door opened seconds later, followed by a tired groan and a thud–probably produced by Chris dropping his bag on the floor.

Chris came into the living room looking tired as ever, but still with a smile on his face. “Didn’t realise you were having a girl’s night. I would’ve gone straight to Changbin’s”.

As soon as he made it to the sofa he bent at the waist to peck his girlfriend’s lips, making her giggle a bit as she offered him a ‘welcome home’ and a ‘it’s alright, baby. It was an impromptu thing’.

“Actually, now that you’re here…” You said when Chris finally pulled himself away from his girl and started to take things out of his pockets to place them on the kitchen counter. “Can I ask you a question? A very personal one?”

“Sure”, Chris replied simply, focusing on the items in his hands.

“What’s it like when you’re going through your rut?”

Chris’ face snapped in your direction, looking at you for a second only to turn to his girlfriend right after as a blush started to settle on his cheeks. “Wow, that’s… That’s certainly a personal question…”

“God, you can’t just ask that”, Changbin’s girlfriend laughed next to you. “Let me rephrase what our dear kitten here is curious about… Being more specific, if you went through your rut, and you didn’t have someone to spend it with, how’d you feel?”

“I don’t even want to ask what you guys were talking about before I came here, God…” Chris rounded the kitchen counter, going straight for the sink and opening the tap to wash his hands. “Guess it depends”.

“On?” His girlfriend urged, watching him return from the kitchen after he wiped his hands on a rag.

Chris sat next to his girlfriend, on the armrest of the sofa. “Well… Before I met you, it was okay-ish if I had to spend it on my own. I mean, it still hurt like hell, and I’d be incredibly frustrated the entire time, but I managed just fine”.

“And after?” You asked, although based on what Chris just said, you had a hunch as to what his answer would be.

“If I recall correctly, I went into rut only once after you moved in”, even if he was answering your question, Chris had his full attention on his girl as he said it, but after taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze he finally turned to look at you. “It was probably one of the worst ruts I’ve ever gone through in my life. It just… Hurt so bad. Everything hurt, and nothing I did made it better”.

“Baby, you never told me this”, Chris’ girlfriend placed her free hand on his thigh, pouting and giving him a squeeze, making him chuckle.

“It never came up”, Chris shrugged. “But, yeah… I think I almost broke the bathtub at some point because I was beyond frustrated… I think I could say I was borderline enraged. I honestly don’t know if I would’ve been able to stand another rut like that”.

Chris changed the topic after that. He stayed for a handful of minutes more, until he finally excused himself and made his way to the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, Changbin’s girlfriend placed a hand on your shoulder, whispering a ‘I think you’ve got your answer, then’.

And you also thought you did. After all, if Minho only ever wanted you during his ruts, the most logical conclusion to you was that the reason he got violent was because he simply couldn’t have you, and the rest seemed to agree.

The girls gave you their experience when it came to being with their partner’s while they went into their rut. They gave you pointers, advice, how to prep, all valuable information you were immensely glad to have. And after all that, you honestly didn’t feel as clueless anymore.

After that long weekend at Minho’s den, you never spoke about his rut again. You tried to bring up the topic a couple of times, but Minho still wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet, which you realised was something you simply had to accept. You couldn’t push him to tell you things when he didn’t feel comfortable doing so, and you honestly didn’t want to push him to talk about things that made him uncomfortable, so you offered one last ‘it’s okay, then. Whenever you feel like talking, I’ll be here. Hm?’ which he seemed to be immensely grateful for.

Minho still hadn’t asked you to move in with him again, but, after a couple of months, you realised he’d started to free up some space for you, or he’d add things to his flat for when you came over. All of a sudden, there were two bathrobes in his bathroom, two different sets of towels, all articles of clothing you’d forgotten over the weekend started to appear neatly folded inside a suspiciously empty drawer in his closet, to the point where sometimes you couldn’t find in your flat something you wanted to wear, only to find it that weekend in Minho’s closet or his dresser.

Which was why, at this point, whenever you went to visit you hardly ever took any extra baggage with you. Everything you could possibly ever need was already at his place, so sometimes, whenever you felt like it, you found yourself driving to his den to visit him, just like you were doing today.

You had the day off, so you just made sure Sir Percival had enough food, checked with your neighbour that she could check on him throughout the day, and you went on your way. You wanted to be there before Minho left for work, so you left very early in the morning to surprise him.

However, it seemed like the one that was in for a surprise was you.

As soon as the door of Minho’s flat closed behind you, you were almost winded by how fast everything happened.

Logically, you knew Minho was a supernatural being. He had enhanced senses, as well as enhanced abilities. You didn’t even see him coming, you just felt your back hit the door, the warmth of his body pressed flush against yours, and his panting in your ear.

“What… What are you doing here?” Minho rasped. His entire form was taut, he had his hands planted firmly against the door at either side of you, caging you in place. Immediately, you just knew something wasn’t quite right. How much warmer he felt against your body, the thin sheen of sweat covering his skin…

His rut.

Minho’s rut had started.

And you were here. Probably severely unprepared.

“I’m… I…” You gulped, suddenly feeling light-headed. The girls had told you you could be affected by his pheromones, but until now you hadn’t fully understood just how much. Your heart was racing, your hands trembled slightly at your sides, and heat was quickly pooling in the pit of your stomach.

Minho pressed his nose against your pulse point, inhaling deeply, and the sigh that came out of his lips after had you blushing immediately. “Answer me, kitten”.

“I just… Missed you, and…” You heard his fingers drag by your sides, producing an almost squeak-like sound with the movement because of how sweaty his palms were.

“Leave”, Minho all but choked on the word. Fuck, you wanted to touch him… You wanted him to touch you, and that need had you pressing your thighs together to try and ease some of the ache that was quickly building between your legs. “Shit, you smell so fucking good, kitten… So–” He moved closer to your neck–if that was even possible–and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you there, but then he was shaking his head, pulling back just the tiniest bit. “Leave now. I won’t… Be able to stay coherent and hold myself back for much longer”.

You licked your lips, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply. “No”.

“Kitten–”

“I won’t leave”, you said firmly.

“Baby… Please–”

“I trust you, Minho”, you turned your head slightly, enough so you were almost whispering in his ear. “I trust you. I want you. Take me–”

In an instant, his mouth was on yours and his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight against his body as your arms looped around his neck. Your whole body seemed to be alight, and the growl that resonated from deep inside of him as soon as his lips were on yours completely drowned your own moan of delight. With a hand holding the back of your head Minho angled you however he pleased, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you as if he were a starved man, as if the moment he stopped you’d vanish.

“You fucking…”

Minho detached himself from you enough to pull your shirt over your head.

“Come in here…”

Shoving his hands down your joggers, he dropped to his knees and pushed them down along with your underwear.

“Smelling like…”

Yanking your shoes off and finally pulling your bottoms fully off of you.

“A proper queen in heat…”

With a tight hold on your hips, he flipped you around, the motion eliciting a moan from your lips.

“Driving me fucking insane…”

He pulled your hips back, and you pressed your chest to the door, arching your back to give him better access once his hands found your buttcheeks, gripping you tightly and spreading you open. Cold air hit your centre, but that rush of cold was quickly replaced by the warmth of Minho’s tongue licking a fat stripe from your clit all the way up to your ass, making him groan in absolute ecstasy, making you groan in absolute ecstasy.

“My sweet, sweet kitten. All drenched and ready for me, huh?”

You desperately nodded, moaning as soon as his tongue was back on your heat, deliciously licking your clit as his hold on your buttocks tightened ever so slightly. “Just for you–”

“Fuck…” In a second, Minho was back on his feet, pressing his chest to your back, bringing his hands to your front to immediately dip two fingers into your dripping hole, just as he pressed two fingers on your clit with the other, making you tremble in his hold. “Gotta stretch you out, hm? Get you ready for your alpha, yeah?”

“Ye–yeah”, you could barely recognise the sound of your own voice, all your senses were focused on Minho, Minho, Minho, and his fingers inside of you, and his rumbling chest against your back, and his fingers on your clit, and the sound of his voice so incredibly low next to your ear.

Minho was working you up increasingly fast. Your high was approaching at an alarming pace, he shoved another finger into you, pushing them in and out, and the squelching sound was loud enough for you to hear among his rumble and his heavy breathing. You could feel him, hard, leaking fluids all over your ass as he kept working you up, as he kept rubbing your clit faster, thrusting his fingers harder, making your legs tremble.

“Gonna stuff you so full, fuck… I want you so, so bad…” As he eased his fourth finger into you, all you could do was pathetically whine, getting lost in the feel of him in you, around you, and all you wanted was for him to shove his monster cock inside of you, uncaring if he ripped you in half in the process.

“Want you, baby… Need you”, you panted, rolling your hips to stimulate his length where it squished between your bodies.

Minho just pressed himself further against you, snarling in that utterly animalistic fashion a wolf would to stop your movements. He shook his head, speeding his fingers on your clit, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips. “Need to stretch you first, kitten. Need it, hm?”

You just whined in response, pressing your cheek against the cool door, finally submitting completely to your boyfriend. For a brief moment you were reminded of how physically different Minho was to you. He was able to produce sounds no human could, sounds you hardly ever heard from him when he was in his human form, and, coupled with his digits working you up, it was, quite honestly, getting you so incredibly close to your release you started to feel tears prick your eyes.

“Minho, baby–”

Minho’s fingers moved impossibly faster as soon as his name left your lips, and you could feel your essence start to drip between your legs. “Come on, kitten. Give it to me, yeah? Come for me, my love”.

With a few more flicks of his fingers on your already sensitive nub, you finally tipped over the edge, just as a mix of swear words and your boyfriend’s name and many pet names escaped your mouth. Blinding-hot pleasure raked your entire body, making you shake in Minho’s hold.

“That’s it, baby. Good, good kitten. God, you’re just a perfect little thing, aren’t you?”

You could hardly hear Minho over the ringing in your ears. You felt your legs jolt as he kept stimulating your clit, and, very quickly, you realised he had no plans to stop the movement of his hands.

“Min–Minho–”

“Shh, it’s okay. I know you can give me another. Please, please give me another, hm? Need it…”

“Oh, fuck–Minho, fuck–”

His pace didn’t relent until you were coming again, until tears collected in your lower lash line only to finally fall and paint roads on your cheeks. That consecutive high turned your limbs into jelly, it made you slump completely in your boyfriend’s hold once he finally removed his fingers from your core.

“So good, baby. You did well, kitten. So well for me…” He mumbled the words against your hair, letting you catch your breath just for a moment, just until you were able to stand on your feet unaided.

In a swift movement, he turned you around and scooped you into his arms, making you yelp when he pressed you hard against the door. Your legs wrapped around his waist for stability, just as your arms looped around his neck to keep yourself secure–not like Minho seemed to have any plans to let you fall, considering how hard he was holding onto you, how he was practically squishing you against the door as he ravished your mouth.

“Minho… Minho, baby, want you inside”, you whimpered as soon as his lips attached to your neck, sucking harshly on your skin to leave love bites all over. You had just had two earth-shattering orgasms, but you needed more. The desperation you felt to have your boyfriend’s cock inside of you was clinging to you like never before, and as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt his tip at your entrance, drenching you in his slick, mixing it with your own juices.

“Inside, huh? Here? Right here, kitten?” He eased fully into you in one swift motion, deliciously filling you up to your limits, making you throw your head back against the door and moan a string of noises that were akin to his name. “Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck–”

Minho immediately started to ram into you. No build up, just straight up pounding you to his flat’s door as if he’d die otherwise, making it rattle with each thrust. Had you not been so incredibly cock-drunk, you would’ve probably felt slightly embarrassed at the possibility of anyone walking by the corridor and hearing you, but instead, that brief thought only made you clench around your boyfriend’s length, aroused at the idea that everyone would know how good he was making you feel, that everyone knew just who you belonged to.

“So fucking good, shit. Almost feels… As if this cunt… Was made for me”.

You swallowed, feeling yourself clench harder around his length, feeling your tits rub against his chest and your clit against his pubic bone every time he moved. “It was–”

“Yeah, it fucking was”, he was fucking you impossibly harder now, and you were already past the speaking point, your mouth only able to produce unintelligible noises of pleasure as he kept ramming his cock into that sweet spot inside your walls, as he kept stretching you time and time again.

After a while, you started to feel the sting between your legs, and you vaguely registered the whimper that came out of your mouth.

Minho started to lick your cheeks, an oddly tender gesture compared to the way he was borderline rearranging your insides with his supernatural cock. “Shh… Kitten, it’s okay. You’ll take it just fine. I just know it. I’m gonna fill you to the brim, mark your delicious cunt as mine, hm?”

You just nodded in response, unable to say anything else, whimpering and whining and moaning as you quickly felt another release edge close.

Minho seemed absolutely determined to get you to come on his cock, his unrelenting pace seemingly unchanging despite the steady swelling of his knot at the base of his length. It kept catching at your entrance with each thrust, giving you a sensation of pleasurable pain quite like nothing you’d ever felt before.

“C’mon, baby… My precious queen in heat, aren’t you gonna come for your alpha again? Milk my cock so I can stuff you full of my pups?”

With a few more thrusts, you felt heat rushing all throughout your body, dragging an incomparable feeling of ecstasy from your centre to every single one of your limbs, just as Minho’s knot lodged deep inside of you and his lips found yours. The kiss was messy, all uncoordinated movements and bumps of noses as his warmth started to fill you up.

The blissed out noises coming out of his mouth had you holding him even tighter, making him hold you tighter in response. You knew Minho produced more fluids than a human male, but you’d never quite felt this amount coming out of him, it seemed like he was coming for at least a couple of minutes, and his kisses eventually became softer, more tender with every second that passed, almost as if that desperation he had when you came into his flat was finally diminishing.

You felt so impossibly full. Full of his cock, full of his cum, full of his love… Once he stopped coming Minho finally separated his lips from yours, slowly opening his eyes to look at your face. He was panting a bit, but the blinding, satisfied smile that made its way to his lips had your heart almost bursting in your chest.

“Holy… Fuck…” He panted, making you giggle a bit just as you tried to catch your breath as well.

“I agree”, was all you said, pressing a lingering kiss on each of his cheeks.

“Hold on…”

Minho made sure his hold on you was secure before he pulled you both away from the door a bit, enough to find your discarded clothes and push them towards the door with his foot. Slowly, and with admittedly a bit of discomfort, he lowered himself to sit on your clothes and rest his back against the door. You whimpered a bit once he fully lowered your ass to sit on your clothes as well, with your legs slightly bent at either side of him, and your knees against the door, the tug of his knot was a bit sharper than when he was moving before, but it seemed to ease as soon as you were finally settled.

“I’m sorry, baby. This is a horrible position to get tied in”, he caressed your lower back, keeping you as flush to him as he could without having his knot pull on your entrance. You just hummed in response, closing your eyes as you inhaled deeply.

You both were silent for a while, just holding onto each other, catching your breaths. Until you finally had regained enough of your strength to speak.

“Minho, that was…”

“A lot–”

“Hot as fuck”, you spoke at the same time, making you both chuckle. “Was that you being violent? ‘Cause… Damn…”

Minho laughed, a breathy laugh just as he leaned his head back against the door, shaking it from side to side in disbelief. “No, fuck. I was violent when you came in. I was close to breaking the bed in half… Then the smell of your scent hit me and I lost my mind”.

“You held back more than I imagined, I’d admit”, you chuckled, pushing his fringe off of his sweaty forehead.

“I don’t even know how I did it, to be honest”, Minho pecked your lips, and you hummed in content. “Now that I’ve finally had you like this… I see it so clearly. I’ve needed you so bad this entire time. Years, kitten! It’s been years of pure torture…”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I figured as much”.

Minho blinked. “How come?”

“I did some digging”, you shrugged. “And after I just… Connected the dots. But you wouldn’t want to talk about it so I didn’t press you further”.

Minho just scoffed at that. “Alright, smarty pants”.

You squeezed his shoulders in protest. “Hey! Don’t call me smarty pants when I’m stuffed full of your cum while your supernatural cock keeps it all trapped in!”

Minho just laughed at your comment, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of his eyes almost disappearing when he smiled.

“Which, by the way, is it always this much? I feel so… Full. Can’t believe it’s all in”.

“Yup”, Minho brought a hand to your cheek, stroking shapes with his thumb. “It’ll diminish eventually, but the first couple of days is a lot. But then again, your cunt was made for me, so of course it can fit it all in”.

You felt heat spread on your face at his words, and suddenly you felt a bit shy under his sparkly eyes. The ache in your legs was lessening a bit, and you realised his knot was starting to deflate, and his seed started to pour out. “Oh, crap. My joggers…”

Minho snorted at that. “Your joggers were ruined the second you stepped into this flat, baby. Don’t worry about them now”.

When your boyfriend’s length finally slipped out of you, he took you in his arms again and carried you to his bedroom, dropping you on his bed for you to rest while he got you some water.

“How many days do your ruts usually last?” You asked Minho once he was back, downing in record time the glass of water he’d handed you.

“Four to five days”, Minho huffed as he dropped himself on his bed next to you. “I’ll warn you now, just based on how I’m feeling right now, I’m confident it’ll be at least five”.

“At least?” Your eyes widened, and Minho chuckled at your expression.

“Didn’t you want to spend my rut with me? Fuck around and find out, babe”.

You scoffed in disbelief, ignoring the urge you suddenly had to rub in his face how you were right, and that you should’ve talked about this earlier. But, instead, you just rolled on top of your boyfriend, planting your lips on his. “Well… Guess I’ll just have to let my alpha take care of me for those five days. Hm?”

Minho licked his lips, and a blush settled on his cheeks. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll make sure to take good care of you”. With how deeply he was kissing you, there was just no room for doubt, he certainly was going to take good care of you, and you were absolutely ready for it.

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Minho’s WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves · Dog Unleashed · Are You There, Wolf?

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy au #stray kids werewolf au #lee know smut #lee know fanfiction #lee know fic #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho smut #minho fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf lee know #werewolf minho #✨🌙✏

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neet-elite · 7 days

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↳ EVENT 21. Kent (Aphrodisiac)

Pairing: Kent / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 4,568 Warnings: cheating, aphrodisiac, creampie, size difference, petname (kid) Prompt(s): 13 — aphrodisiac Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: kent oh man oh man my beloved <3 im so happy i got to write for him MWAH tysm for giving me this opportunity! it's always fun getting to explore his dirty mind! i was a bit excessive with this one, but i still home u enjoy it!

With the amount of panic lacing your words and the hefty amount of anxiety present in even just your fingertips as you take to tugging his jacket towards, well... Wherever you're planning on taking him, he's got no choice but to follow along, does he? Anyone, under these tense circumstances, would feel the urge to help you; a damsel in distress quite literally begging for his attention. Or at least they should, right? Even if he doesn't know you the best, he still hates to hear the whiny tension in your voice when you mumble for him to hurry up! Every huff and sigh you let out while walking with him tugs on his heart strings about as much as you do his jacket, implores him to do his utmost in helping you just to soothe those whimpers. It's what anyone would do, he thinks. And seeing as he's at least trying to reintegrate himself into the valley lifestyle, he figures there's no harm in doing as you ask and simply following along for now.

This was his first mistake.

He soon comes to learn that you intend on taking him to your farmhouse, hidden away and secluded from the rest of the town— that's when alarm bells should have been ringing in his dense head. But as the reliable man he tries to be, he followed regardless. Put it down to you needing attention towards something sensitive, right? That's why he's all the way out here, with you, alone. Your issue must be serious enough to require privacy, seeking a more mature adult than yourself to help remedy whatever situation you've unfortunately found yourself in. And no matter how often he's asked you to explain yourself on the way over to the farm, those comparatively tiny hands so eagerly yanking him in one direction only, sheer urgency alone pulling him closer towards you until you rush him inside of your home like a caught child; he's still got no idea what it is exactly that you're struggling with.

The next red flag is when you usher him into your bedroom the moment your front door is shut tight. Don't get him wrong, the decor is nice and all, but he's got no idea what could require his tending to in here. His tone questioning just as much as his expression is suspicious when you situate yourself before him panting— that's why you shouldn't have rushed home. Raising his eyebrows at you with: "I'm not so sure we have to be in here to discuss things, but..." despite your adamant encouragement.

"Please, Kent. Just trust me."

And it's not that he's complaining too seriously, he just doesn't understand. Doesn't get why your cheeks are so flushed as you prompt him into sitting on your bed, nor why you seem to bite down on your bottom lip when brushing your fingers against his shoulders. He can't comprehend why his hands itch similarly to yours the longer you seem to hover around him, pacing back and forth with wobbly legs like you can barely stand by yourself any more. For a moment, he finds himself wanting to carry you elsewhere, just so that you can be in his arms. But, he shouldn't, right? That's— That's just a fleeting thought, surely. It's only because you're standing right in front of him, rather than his wife. It's only natural for him to seek to help others, right?

Still, he needs to distract himself from his own thoughts, which is why he takes a strong grip of your wrist; an attempt to get you to stand still for a fucking minute so that you can simply explain yourself, but he quickly retracts his hand the moment he feels how heated your skin is. All prickly and flushed, his mind reeling with the thought that you suit the colour well. A pretty dusting of pink, a full body blush from head to toe. He has to physically shake his head to remove the intrusive thoughts.

"What, yer sick or somethin'?" he recoils, confusion clear to not only hear, but also to see on his face, he's certain. Brows laced before you as you grow closer to him, even as he sits he's still taller than you, isn't he? Exuding patience as he simply waits for your answer, staring you down with the kind of resolve one holds as a parent for a child.

But you neglect to answer him in a timely fashion, instead just chewing on your bottom lip as you shift closer; dangerously so, placing your pretty body between his wide open thighs and— shit, does he really think you're so pretty? How come he's never noticed just how pretty you are before... Pouting sweetly before him like you've done something wrong, his feet twitching with something equally as impatient as your demeanour as a faint sweet smell hits his senses. He's waited long enough for an answer, don't you think?

Again, he pushes on and tries to get you to explain yourself. Approaching you with tenderness that doesn't fit him, an awkward fumbling of words that he can't quite seem to remember given his time away from pretty ladies such as yourself. "C'mon, I can't help ya if ya don't—"

"It's hot, Kent." You sigh, and for a few seconds he's too dumb to speak. Mind blank to your explanation, surely that's not all you have to say.

And besides, he doesn't think that it's hot enough today for it to pose any kind of problem, especially not one that required him to be perched precariously on the edge of your bed like this. So he continues on, rolling his eyes at the ambiguous nature of your explanations.

"Cool down then?" Duh, isn't that obvious? "Don't think y'need my help with that, jus' run a bath or somethin'—"

You cut him off again, and he has half a mind to shut you up himself. Through means unfavourable to his wife, regret immediately surfacing to his cloudy mind. Annoyance at both himself and you existing in his tightly closed fists as you attempt to elaborate a bit further; can you pick up on how he feels right now? How the heat radiating off of you is sticking to his skin too, leaving him feeling all flustered alongside you? He feels a sudden urge to escape resting in his toes, you better not be contagious or— "No, like... Inside. In my body, it feels hot." You prattle on, and his nose scrunches in dissatisfaction.

"A fever?" He asks, taking the situation a bit more seriously now that you're finally divulging important details. He reaches a hand out to place the back against your forehead and a hiss crawls up his throat before swiftly retrieving his burned skin. You are feeling pretty warm. "What can I do t'help?" He offers, but the answer is obvious. Fluids, rest, and pain killers. He's sure you should have them in your house somewhere... But you shouldn't need him to get them for you. After all, you did walk him to your front door, did you not?

"It's— It's a bit more complicated than, ah, than that, I think—"

Loathe it thought he may, the small sigh you let escape when shivering between his legs is nice. Real fuckin' nice. Too fuckin' nice. A refreshing sound to bring his attention off of your doe eyes and instead down to your pretty lips. Of which look oh so kissable right now, glossy with spit, quivering ever so sweetly for him as if attempting to coax him closer.

Ah, he gets it now, you fucking vixen. He should take the opportunity to stand up right now. Walk away from your clearly oblivious body and back home to his wife and kids. Where he should have been by now, on his way home from a morning stroll in Cindersap Forest before you had intercepted him with worry. Even then you were a blushing, shivering mess. Really, that was his first signal, wasn't it? The pull he felt towards helping you, sweet talking him back to your farmhouse without even needing to say anything at all. Like you've got him under an insidious spell; his own cheeks feel a little warmer just by being close to you.

And that fucking scent, like a sweet perfume. He wants to ask what it is that you're wearing, only so that he can buy some for his wife, too. How intoxicating it is to him, luring him into leaning more forward when you continue to shudder into the cool air, as if he was intent on shielding you or something.

"Wanna start from the beginning, then?" He huffs, balling his fists into the sheets under him for any semblance of control, unease resting in his chest at the way he feels as though he lacks it when with you, apparently. A means to hold himself back from doing something he really shouldn't, cursing his inner self when he thinks about how attractive you are when seeking his help. To be relied upon in a situation like this is one of the better feelings this world has to offer, though he really should be withholding it from anyone but his wife. It's difficult to do so, though, when you're practically throwing yourself at him like this. He has always understood you to be easy on the eyes, but not once has he looked upon you like this, like a man starved as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. Frustration? For fucking sure, willing his pants to remain loose under you when you make a similar sweet sound again, a little gasp for air before answering him.

You must know what you're doing to him, right? And, like, c'mon, he's only a man after all. You couldn't blame him for the way he struggles to hold himself back, would you? Mind growing dizzier by the second, he's never felt this way before— not even with his wife for fucks sake. And somehow, instinctively, he knows that it's your own fucking fault. A rise of bile bubbling to dirty his tongue with a low hum, a judgemental sound that seems only to make your situation worse if the rub of your thighs together is anything to go by. Thought he'd miss that?

"I was, um... Walking through the forest, and..." Right, right. He understood that part. But his jaw his tight, taut with how much he has to restrain himself when your scent is overwhelming his senses. So he refrains from speaking his mind in favour of letting you dig your own metaphorical grave, a pretty picture between his wide thighs. He could probably look at you like this forever; keeping a mental note for safe keeping, or for later? He can't keep up with how fuzzy he feels, all warm and nice... It's only your voice that pulls him out of his leering, and even then he can't help but to lean into it. Like a siren song.

You shudder when he nods for you to continue, and he hates how good it feels to hold such power over you. How soft and small you look just standing there, head hung low in assumed shame, legs trembling under his watchful gaze. Are you scared, little bunny? Worried the big bad wolf is gonna do something bad to you?

Perhaps you should be, because he's a little afraid himself of what his claws can do, too. Sitting staring at you with an urge to bear his fangs, some primal part of him just begging to sink something into you. Claws, teeth, cock?

It's disgusting, really, how strongly he feels right now. The way his tummy burns at the sight of you looking so desperate, needy little thing tripping over your words as you attempt to explain your degenerate behaviour to him. Pheromones wrapping around him so sweetly that he's got no choice but to get drunk off of you. Y'know, you look you cute when you're struggling like that. Trying to get his attention by rolling over to show your tummy? Baby, with the way you've got him feeling already, you needn't have to try at all. He's already enraptured, hanging on to your every word with a twitch in his pants. Gross, right? Deplorable, even, considering he's a married man with two kids.

"Um... So, I saw this, ah— This pretty flower that I've never seen before when, when I was out and I— I sniffed it,"

Fucking idiot, a condescending tut escaping him at your lack of survival skills. Still, he's got no idea what the fuck you're truly talking about, but to unknowingly do something so stupid without considering the fact that there could be adverse effects to what you've just done— some flowers are poisonous, y'know?

But still he allows you room to continue. Folds his arms in front of him like a disapproving father would, but listens nonetheless. Doing his best to ignore the ache in his core when you flutter your lashes at him so cutely, still sighing and huffing away to yourself with assumed heat. "It— I mean it smelled good, y'know? Maybe... A little too sweet? But— That doesn't matter, what matters is— fuck, sorry. Um, point being that about five minutes later I started feeling... Funny."

"Funny how?" He asks sternly. Funny like me? Like how he's feeling sick to his stomach, a weird flutter in his chest at the way you gaze at him through half lids.

"Like... Like hot! Like I said, it feels hot, right... Um, sorry, this is embarrassing but... Here."

Pointing at your tummy, or perhaps a little lower... Right at your womb? You're right, that is embarrassing for you, and it should also be mortifying for him; he should feel horrified to be staring at where your womb lies with anything but disgusting. Adoration coating his gaze as he tilts his head to the side in curiosity, lifting his hand to meet your height as he rubs a thumb along the spot, under your clothes that you've so helpfully lifted in order to showcase the location of your issue.

But that was an immediate fucking mistake wasn't it? Proven when you openly moan as soon as his thumb touches your overheated skin, instinct convincing him to press into your womb harder, to rub the skin across your own in an effort to leave his mark. There's no use in hiding his hard on now, fuck, he's not got a hope in Hell of even attempting to conceal how hard his cock throbs for your sweet whimpers, a brief empty pause shared between what should be ashamed parties, but instead; greed. A palpable lust for more, felt in how your tummy jerks against his touch, hips bucked towards him just a miniscule amount, but still he catches it. And how his hands immediately grip too tightly to your hips, magnetic to your heated skin, a need to soothe you buried deep in his chest. Poor little thing, you're just so small compared to him, aren't you? So easy to lift, hauled up over his shoulder so that he can groan loudly at the innocent squeaks you let out. If only you hadn't went and fucked up today, roping him into your little mishap by way of pouting and prancing that pretty body around in front of him— fuck, he shouldn't be doing this. Throwing you down on your bed, unceremoniously flipping you onto your stomach so that you can't see just how much you affect him, how happy he is to be graced by the sight of your cute ass immediately wiggling in the air for him for you're in position. Just for him, yeah? All of this, those tiny fists bunched into your sheets, the harsh gulps of air as his hands reattach to your hips, effectively knocking the wind outta ya without so much as being inside. Isn't that just so fucking cute? Such a pretty girl, begging for him like that. It's been a long time since he's been in this kind of situation, and if he's honest, he never thought he'd be standing behind someone like this ever again. Frozen, cock just aching in his pants as it attempts to tent your way, jerking against the rough fabric of his jeans with a sense of urgency he's not use to; not even since coming back home to his wife. Things just haven't been the same, have they?

Did you notice, too? Is that why you sought out his comfort rather than anyone else's? Or is he just some passable cheap fuck, a first come first served affair into your wanting hole. He's not sure which is worse, squeezing his eyes shut to blink at you a few times; is this real? Are you really face down, ass up on your bed right now? Are you really shaking your ass from side to side, an open invitation to take exactly what he so desperately needs from you, something in the pit of his stomach urging him to take you up on that offer, an unforeseen force puppeting his greedy hand to his leaking cock, thumbing at it through the jeans for just a few seconds before he hurriedly, frantically, tugs them down with his underwear. Letting his cock spring free with a hefty slap! against his tummy, drooling some more precum for you when you clearly moan at the sound.

And he shouldn't. Fuck, he really shouldn't. Perverted paw already jerking his cock up and down to the sole sight of your ass, driven to experimentally flip your skirt up only to suck in air at the sight of your soaked panties. The fist on his cock grows tighter yet, already pumping at himself faster as he swallows thickly; a subconscious want to eat you out dry? Perhaps, but he blames it on that fucking stink you have attached to you and how it only grows in strength as he fucks his fist to your backside. Makes his head all empty, trying his best to hold on to the last remaining scraps of self control he has, fighting with himself to tuck his cock back into his jeans and to pretend he never even saw you today.

But fuck it feels so good to stroke himself to the sight of you. Watching the stain on your panties grow larger the longer he makes you wait, practically bending over himself from how sensitive his drooling tip is. Just lightly brushing against it with his tight fist is enough to leave him panting in satisfaction; he's never been so fucking hard before in his life.

All thanks to you. Whining, pathetic, ass up in the air, sticky panty wearing, you.

It's infuriating how much he loves the sight of you submitting like so, fucking his fist a few times before dumbly inching closer. Enough to let you feel the weight of his cock prodding at your clothed hole, forced into simulating the act of sex itself the second he rubs against your sheer panties with greedy humps. God, he's just so fucking desperate for it all of a sudden. Needs to wet his cock as soon as possible, an indescribable yearning for you tucked away behind his heart, snaking its way down to his tummy and finally resting in his balls as he stupidly pulls your panties to the side.

And then it's immediately over for him, isn't it? Not a single word shared and he's already pushing his drooling cock into your hot cunt. The sheer tightness that greets him as you involuntarily clench around his length is irritating in how fucking good it feels; his voice coming out strained and upset with "Are y'being fuckin' serious? Fuck, kid. So fuckin' tight for me, y'need it that bad?"

It's not really a question. Not when he can tell how genuine you are in your need to be dicked down, whining and mumbling into your sheets, a cute babble off appreciation for how well his fat cock stretches you out. And he's not even sure if he can fit it all the way in, offering you little fucks to help coat his whole cock in your slick to hopefully make the glide a bit easier. He might be out of his fucking mind right now, but he still has the decency to make things easier on you. But the fire in his tummy begs him to continue. The nails digging into your ass plead for more. The way you whine a high pitched please! motivates him to push all the way in anyway, forcing you to take his full length whether you're comfortable with it or not.

And then he just can't seem to stop. Enticed into fucking you too fast and too hard by the spell you have him under, the sickeningly sweet scent emanating from you whispering sweet nothings in his ear, the way your gushy cunt just seems to suck him in deeper, begging for his cock to fuck harder with every heavy stroke he offers it. Like he's not fully there, dumb to his surroundings besides the loud slap of wet skin on skin ringing in his ears, and the too good pressure on the tip of his cock, every single pulse of your cunt squirming around his girth prompting a rough moan to crawl up his tight throat. Until he starts to clench his teeth in focus, resolved to only let out rushed exhales so that he can instead focus on your pretty whines. The squeak of your bed from under his unfair thrusts, lifting to his tip toes and pressing a hand on your upper back for stability; the deeper angle he's able to fuck your tiny cunt with leaves even him breathless from how downright fucking good it feels. So fucking addictive, being inside of you. His whole body thrown behind each thrust to leave you gasping, struggling to keep up with his selfish thrusts as he seeks only to help you out— but that's not exactly true, is it?

No, he wants to feel good too. He's come this far in the affair, neglecting his lonely wife at home who's probably waiting patiently for his return, all while he's balls deep in some other young cunt that just seemed to offer itself up to him. Falling on top of you like a dog, still yet humping despite the pang of guilt in his heaving chest. It's just— "God you feel so fuckin' good, tight fuckin' cunt, yeah? Needed t'be properly fucked, s'at all?"

He doesn't need you to reply, happy enough just to hear you struggling to respond, scrambling your hands on the bed as if you were trying to escape his greedy thrusts; but he's just so much bigger than you, isn't he? So much stronger, keeping you on the end of his throbbing cock simply because he wants to feel good too. Convinced that if he fucks you all better, then the spell will be broken. It has to be, right? His hand instinctively coming down between your legs to rub rough circles against your clit, a soft tut falling from his lips when you moan a repeat of his name so prettily that he can't help but to stutter his hips against you. Opening his mouth to say something, anything to take the focus off of how well your little cunt squeezes his fat cock, distract him from just how much he loves being buried balls deep in your tight hole, how he doesn't want tonight to end because he can't bare the thought of going back to his wife; not in the least because it feels better to be fucking into you rather than her. He wants to make you feel better, that's all, right? He's just— just helping a friend out. Repeatedly fucking his greedy cock into you just to help you out. Fuck, he wants to make you cry, too. So desperately needs to see fat tears rolling down your rosy cheeks as he pounds you into the sheets below, pressing his nose to your neck to inhale some more of the lewd scent you seem to be exuding.

It's easier to circle your clit when his brain is switched off. Simply moving with the motions as his lips press eagerly against your neck, opening his mouth just a little to let you feel his teeth graze against your sensitive spot every time his hips fuck you forward.

And he knows that you're close when one of your hands manoeuvres under your body to grab at his wrist. Are you begging for him to stop now? A laugh escapes him, all broken and barely there from the amount of moans that follow it. You're getting so tight around him, as if pleading for him to not leave. So cute, how honest your body is for him. A few more circles of your clit and you're falling apart on his cock already, you must be just as sensitive as he is, your insides squelching and squeezing all along his length as he stands upright again; not allowing you a single second for even a breather as he selfishly fucks you through your orgasm, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sound of your high pitched and croaky sobs, whining all pretty for him when he pulls your ass back to meet his every greedy thrust.

So frantic with his fucks, treating you more like a toy than anything else as you cream his cock, sinking into the too good feeling over and over again until he inevitably dumps a load into your hole as reward. Fucking you so full of it that it seeps out with his continued milking thrusts, repeatedly pressing on your lower back with one hand to keep your cunt sucking his cock empty while his other hand cards through his hair, only just now realising how sticky with sweat he is.

It makes sense, given the heat you've shared with him. His breathing ragged above you, eyes squeezing shut as he fucks into your brimming with cum cunt— the sticky substance that drips from your used hole and onto his emptied balls would ordinarily lead him to sober up from the experience; baby needs some aftercare?

But rather than offering him clarity, the wetness that still yet drips down your thighs only turns him on more, warming his cock in your tight, cum stained cunt, until he starts to soften.

Only, he doesn't. Cock still pulsing inside of you despite fucking you full, your cunt still attempting to nurse him into movement again. He merely sighs in response, bracing himself before pulling out anyway, hips humping the air immediately upon hearing your whines at the loss of contact.

"S'okay. Y'need more, dont'cha?" He coos down at you affectionately, gently helping you to lay down on your back on the bed for a round two.

And, seeing as he's already claimed your insides, he figures it shouldn't be too much of an issue to show you his face this time round. In spite of the guilt gnawing at his heart; you feel too good to give up. "Jus' keep this a secret, and y'can have as much of me as y'like, okay?"

#500 event!#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv kent smut #stardew valley kent smut #i edited this when i was so fuckin tired so i hope there aren't any obvious issues w it #so sorry if so

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jrow · 16 hours

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May Prompts (25)

Day 24 here. Start from the beginning here.

Intuition

He may not be Sherlock Holmes, but he trusts his intuition.

In fact, right now his intuition is probably a hell of a lot more reliable than Sherlock’s. He’s seen what Sherlock will do when blinded by anger.

It’s time for Captain Watson to take control.

“Don’t look out the window,” he hisses through a smile. “Keep looking at me or Rosie. Look happy.”

“But John—“ Sherlock argues, gesticulating wildly.

“Sherlock. Trust me.” He knows his tone leaves no room for argument. Even from the great Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock freezes and then starts fidgeting slightly awkwardly. He seems almost … flustered. But then he gives a tiny nod and plasters on a fake smile while keeping his eyes firmly on Rosie.

“Good. Now, you are going to get up and go order two coffees. And I am going to call Mrs. Hudson and ask her to pick up Rosie from here.” He looks at his daughter who is happily scribbling with the crayons and blank paper they brought. He thinks maybe he can see some hearts among her chaos of lines. “We aren’t doing anything until we get Rosie out of here.”

That seems to get through to Sherlock. “Right. Of course. Coffees.”

They proceed with their tasks and soon are back at the table, pretending to have a normal conversation while they wait for their landlady. It’s excruciating.

“Who is he?” Sherlock asks, leaning back in his chair, the picture of relaxation.

“I don’t remember his name but he was on the scene at the … Smith abduction case maybe? Something around that time.” He takes a drink of coffee. “And the bastard has been one of the constables assigned to my room too. Changed his hair and shaved off his moustache but definitely the same guy.”

“Of course, I should have known. No man in their right mind would dye their hair that colour. He’s hoping you won’t make the connection,” Sherlock says, picking up one of the crayons and drawing a happy face beside Rosie’s scribbles. She giggles and snatches the crayon from his hand, having decided she needs the yellow at this very instant. “He seems to think he has a lot to lose. I have no doubt he’s planning an escape—somewhere in Europe most likely.”

To anyone else, he’s sure Sherlock sounds calm, but he hears the quiet fury lacing every word.

He doesn’t know what to say, so they sit in silence for a moment. He drinks his coffee and Sherlock and Rosie play a game of keep away with the crayons.

“I wonder how Larkin got mixed up in all this. Hate to say it, but I feel a bit sorry for the guy,” he finally says, mostly to pass the time.

“That’s easy,” Sherlock says, keeping his focus on Rosie. “Constable Needs-to-Die happened upon Mr. Larkin in the midst of some crime. Something serious that would come with significant jail time. The constable looked the other way in exchange for a major favour, which he called in when he decided he needed to get you out of the picture.” A pause. “Feel no sympathy. Robert Larkin got exactly what he deserved.”

That rather somber sentiment is quickly dissipated by Rosie’s squeals of delight and calls of “Nana” that announce Mrs. Hudson’s arrival. She’s trying to jump down from the booster even before Mrs. Hudson made her way through the door.

“What did you tell her?” Sherlock asks quietly, leaning close.

“Just that I … errr… just that I was hoping to have a little extra time alone with you,” he says, feeling the heat in his cheeks rise. It’s not that far from the truth, really, but feels like a confession of sorts.

Mrs. Hudson swoops in and hugs Rosie before Sherlock can respond. “There’s my little princess, let’s get you in your pushchair. We are going to have so much fun!” For a woman pushing 80, Mrs. Hudson is impressively spry. She quickly gets everything together (eschewing all help), including getting Rosie all buckled in without a fuss.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock says, his voice neutral but his toe tapping rather aggressively.

“It’s my pleasure, boys. You two have fun,” Mrs. Hudson replies with a wink. “Don’t get into too much trouble.” Her words are light but there’s a look in her eye that makes him think she understands the urgency. In a flash, she and Rosie are gone.

He tries to pick up his coffee but his hands are shaking in anticipation of what’s to come. And relief that, whatever happens, Rosie is safe in Baker Street. Where she belongs.

It’s also relief that he is here with Sherlock, about to do … whatever it is they are about to do. Together. It’s where they belong.

“John,” Sherlock says, forcefully. “Rosie is safe. It’s time to do things my way now.”

Time to follow intuition once again.

“Dear god, yes.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty @quimerasyutopias

#johnlock #wip #may prompts 2024

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arent-i-the-fairest · 2 years

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𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

some staff members taking care of a sick reader. (platonic)

characters : dire crowley, divus crewel, sam

dire crowley

“headmaster, are you sure you’re fit for this? because this place has plenty of nurses that are.”

your comment made crowley gasp and stop what he was doing. before he had the chance to start running around bawling, you had to backtrack.

“i mean— i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to call you incompetent or anything! it’s just that i, uh… don’t wanna inconvenience you? yeah! y’know, since you’re so busy all the time..” you sputtered, offering him an awkward grin.

crowley held a hand up to his heart, tearing up. “oh! how kind of you, child! it seems my benevolence has rubbed off on you! but not to worry! why, i have plenty of time to finish my work later!” he sniffled.

you immediately relaxed. thank god he bought it! but man, are you gonna make it out alive in his care? is it too late to call someone a bit more reliable?

“i will nurse you back to perfect health! ohoho, how incredibly kind of me~!” he laughs as he skipped away to god knows where.

he’s outraged at the assumption that he doesn’t know how to care for sick people! taking care of you can’t be that hard! he can cook you a hearty meal, and… and read you a bed time story! that’ll make you better! hell, maybe he can even sing you a lullaby! he’s pretty sure he’s got a bandaid or two too if you need them!

—yeah, no, he’s not the most ideal person for the job. the most helpful things he could do is fetch you your medicine and refill your glass of water when it’s empty. and cheer you up, you suppose. he’s very entertaining despite not meaning to be.

you flinch as the door suddenly slams open. standing there in the doorway is crowley with a bowl in hand with a goofy smile on his face.

“please excuse the wait! now here, i’ve made you some soup! i taste tested it, and it’s delicious, if i do say so myself!” he smiles proudly, not at all hiding his haughtiness.

looking at the meal, it actually did look quite good. smelled really good too! you frowned, feeling a bit guilty. maybe you were a bit too harsh, thinking he was totally incapable…

“now, enough of my chatter! open wide, here comes the airplane!” crowley cooed as he started waving a spoonful of the soup towards your mouth.

“i’m not a child, headmaster!” you complained, yet still opened your mouth as the spoon came closer. you drank the soup— and immediately recoiled at the taste. “it’s repulsive!”

divus crewel

“good grief.. i told you not to go out in the rain with those other pups!” crewel hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “look where you are now!”

though the scolding was a bit harsh, he was right. you were sitting in bed with a runny nose, itchy red eyes, and a high fever. while running around and playing in the rain with your friends was fun, it was definitely not worth this.

“honestly, just what am i going to do with you?” crewel looked at you with a softer expression. you sit in silence as he sighs, unboxing the medicine he brought for you.

he’s strict, even while you’re sick. he watches you like a hawk for most of the day, cooks you only the healthiest of meals, doesn’t let you leave your bed unless you absolutely need to, and keeps track of how much time is left until you need to take your medicine down to the second. he’s aware he’s being a bit overbearing, but he just wants to see you better as soon as possible.

“hey, now that i think about it, classes are still in session right now. are alchemy classes cancelled today since you aren’t there?”

crewel scoffs. “of course not. i wouldn’t just give everyone a free day off. but i also don’t trust a single pup using chemicals unsupervised, so i have the headmaster substituting for me.” he said. you quirked an eyebrow and he returned the look.

“you seriously trust the headmaster enough to let him look after a class full of rambunctious, clumsy— and sorry for saying this, but sometimes downright dumb students? who are all handling dangerous chemicals?”

you could see concern growing on crewel’s face as he considered the chaos that could be happening right now in his classroom.

“... perhaps i should check up on them.”

sam

“knock knock, little imp! i heard from my friends from the other side that you’re sick. is that true?” sam asked as he entered your room.

you weakly turned over to look at him and nodded. “it sure is.”

“no worries, i’m here to help ‘ya! just tell me whatcha need and you got it! i’m only here for half an hour though. i’m sorry, kid.” he frowned. “i gotta get back to my shop, but you can always call me!”

sam, while he hates to leave you alone sick, still has to manage his shop. he’s not too concerned though, he knows you’re plenty capable of caring for yourself! but every few hours, he’ll come back to check up on you. each time does, he brings you food/snacks and sometimes a weird (but ultimately cool) knick-knack to come with it. just a little something to brighten your mood!

you perk up at the sound of knocking.

“hey hey~! guess who’s back?” sam whistled. “i brought you some dinner. and your favorite drink! and this little clay statue. ain’t he neat?”

you nodded, thanking him as he put the stuff down beside you. the statue caught your eye, so you picked it up and played around with it. it looked oddly familiar.

“hey wait! i swear i’ve seen this thing sitting on your desk for the past few months..” you flip it around in your hands, analyzing it.

“yeah, it’s been a favorite of mine. there’s actually a funny story behind it if you’re interested in hearin’ it.” sam said, leaning against your bed’s headboard. you looked up at him with interest clear in your eyes.

“ooh, tell me!”

“heh, alright!” sam laughed, ruffling your hair. “so a couple years ago…”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley x reader #divus crewel x reader #twst sam x reader #gn reader

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justanothercloudinthesky · 1 year

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Ideal Types: Haikyuu

So I've been having a ton of fun with these this weekend and decided to do a few for the Haikyuu boys (or girls if anyone wants)

I will put a disclaimer that I honestly think it's not as clear as the MHA boys, and that these boys are more compatible with wider ranges of people, but when looking into their wiki pages, these headcanons came to mind.

Tsukishima, Kenma, Sugawara, Nishinoya, Kuroo

Fluff/Hc/Drabble

Kei Tsukishima:

I believe Kei would fall for someone who's honest to a fault. They honestly aren't as mean as he is and calls him out on his crap way more than he'd like at first. All his sharp words seemed to do nothing to hurt them and it would drive first-year Tsukki absolutely bonkers. He'd be infuriated, but honestly unintentionally grow to respect them as time went on. I think what would hook him is seeing that they never intentionally caused drama, and were not concerned with sparing (or hurting) his feelings. He's been lied to a lot, so the boy has massive trust issues, that this person unintentionally becomes a safe space. and vise versa. I think he'd honestly defend them from everyone and they'd begin to date 3rd year.

Kenma:

I genuinely think Kenma would melt for an attentive soul. Kenma is insecure and doesn't verbalize his analytical thoughts often, and usual even then only when asked. I think Kenma can come off as apathetic at times, but I honestly headcanon he really isn't, he just doesn't really know what to say. I think something that would compliment Kenma would be someone who notices how smart the boy truly is and pursues his thoughts and opinions. By university Kenma would feel so comfortable they wouldn't have to ask anymore. I don't think it would matter if they were energetic or not, but I think it would really help if they had a goal in mind (note why he likes hinata and kuroo)

Sugawara:

Okay, So it's a bit contreversal, I honestly think Sugawara would fall for a free soul, now I realize that could sound weird. I actually don't think Sugawara is super crazy, he's not sickeningly sweet angel, but one thing the show brings up over and over again is how reliable he is, even if he doesn't see that as a valuable asset while comparing it to natural talent. I think it says way more about his character. Suga's worked his whole volleyball career on reading his team mates, that I think someone who genuinely saw him, and pulled him into the moment would put a new passion into his step. Now with that said, I don't think he'd realize he fell until like 8 months after they became friends. it would hit the man like a ton of bricks

Nishinoya:

I think Nishinoya would need someone who's so proud of him. Nishinoya's backstory is that he came from being a scardy-cat. something he doesn't really mention in the series very much, and I'd draw the conclusion he would be ashamed of his past. I think someone who's seen where he's grown from and respects him would melt his heart in ways he never expected it could. Nishinoya might not calm down but with the influence of his S/O, I believe he'd learn to be a bit less self-destructive. I also headcanon he wouldn't fall for someone found conventionally attractive.

Kuroo:

Okay, I believe honest to goodness that Kuroo would fall for someone who's a stick in the mud. Now it might be a little weird to say that, but Kuroo's biggest strength in my opinion is reading people. I think Kuroo would be infuriated by someone who genuinely just stuck to their guns and didn't take any of his sly crap. He would have spent all 3 of his high-school years fighting for their attention. I genuinely think a tiny bit of rivals to lovers thing going on. I do think that his S/O might be a bit better at things not academic and university made Kuroo realize how much he truly missed them. I think they would actually get together after he was ceo and they crossed paths. Could I be totally wrong about this? absolutely, but this is my headcanon

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theactualsunshinechild · 6 months

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I have this incredibly specific WrioChi scenario rotating around in my head that I have to throw out there before it drives me insane. Imagine the following:

Childe seeing Wriothesley walking out of his office, calling out to him, and leaping right off the second floor of the administrative zone at him, and Wriothesley panicking and dropping everything in his arms to catch him and then reprimanding him to "Stop DOING that, you brat!!!" And Childe is just like "but it's fun and you always catch me!"

"I should let you drop," Wriothesley grumbles, though his hold doesn't loosen. If anything, Childe feels his grip tighten slightly as the redhead pretends to contemplate the possibility.

"Mmmm..." he hums thoughtfully, "well, I guess I'll have to hope I land on my feet!" The shrug that follows gets the Duke's brows to twitch lightly on his otherwise stone cold expression.

"You'll break your legs from that height." His grip tightens again. Childe grins. He knows this of course. Vision users have tougher bodies, so he'd have to land wrong, but breaking a bone was a very real possibility. However, he'd heal it off relatively quickly, especially compared to the havoc his Foul Legacy wreaks upon his body, and it was a risk he was willing to take. Not only did Childe have plenty of trust in his own body's capabilities and expertise in executing dangerous drops and cushioning rolls safely, but:

"You will never let that happen." Childe's confident reply echoes in the nonexistent space between them, reverberating through Wriothesley's bones.

"I just told you, I will let you fall," Wriothesley scowls down at him. His grip is a little painful, but his voiced threat is rendered ineffective against Childe, who smiles, softer this time, the sharp teasing corners tempered by the concern that was pacing a visible hole through the frost of the other's gaze.

"You told me you should, Your Grace, but your eyes say you won't." For a second those same eyes widen at his words, and Childe knows he hit the nail on the head. He grins in delight as Wriothesley averts his gaze silently, confirming it further.

For a man who was once meant to keep him captive and kept so many secrets, the Warden was a terribly easy man to trust in.

Childe was never a fan of... relying on others. It wasn't really in his playbook, couldn't be, with the kind of profession he was in, the coworkers he worked with. Physically, letting any part of his plans fall on anyone else's shoulders always came with a threat of failure and fatality. Emotionally, the idea of letting people close to him, like his family, in on his worries was even more devastating. Frankly, letting anyone else into his heart and head was always going to be out of the question. Or so he thought.

The Traveler, was one such newcomer into Childe's limited circle. And when they both found themselves in Fontaine once again for one reason or another, the Traveler, ever the networking expert, introduced him to Wriothesley over a cup of the Duke's fine tea. Introduced was, admittedly, a strong word for a situation in which Wriothesley already had his name, family's names, occupation, and detailed criminal record on file. It was a jarring experience to say the least, to have a complete stranger ask after the well-being of his siblings, but at the end of the day, he could finally put a face to the grand title he had heard so many times during his stint in the prison. Even with the amount of reverence people spoke of their Duke with, Childe had been unprepared for the kind of person he really was in the flesh.

Shrewd and cautious, stomping out problems quickly and efficiently. Polite and charismatic, yet tangibly dangerous and unafraid to resort to brutality when his hand was forced. Wriothesley was nothing if not reliable; he protected his values and people with a steadfast viciousness that Childe recognized intimately -- an indomitable, resolute determination that matched his own.

It seemed like there was nothing thrown his way that Wriothesley couldn't handle, and Childe couldn't help but want to test the limits. Posing himself as the world's most difficult problem to solve was an endeavor that came quite naturally to the Harbinger, but perhaps it was Childe's limits that had truly been tested.

Wriothesley had stepped up to the challenge before him and, while neither had expected to tumble into bed together in the process, it had not been unwelcome. Under the Duke's attentive gaze and steady hands Childe found himself being taken apart piece by piece and reconstructed into a version of himself that felt lighter somehow. It was months later that Childe lay awake with the realization that the lightness came with the missing pieces, the shards of his long-fragmented heart that Wriothesley gently pried out from his scars and bones and swallowed down diligently to keep them safe inside himself. And yet, Childe had never felt more whole.

He had come to trust Wriothesley to a degree he could have never even imagined. It was... less frightening than it should have been to have someone hold his heart this way. To have someone he felt so completely safe with. Childe knew that on a physical level he was the overall stronger fighter from their spars, but this did not take away from the serene sense of security Wriothesley's presence gave him. To put it simply, Wriothesley was someone he found himself comfortable with. He was someone who did not judge him at face value, but rather worked to understand his behaviors on a level Childe could never recall anyone bothering to do. Even now, it felt as though the other had already figured out Childe's motivations on a deeper level than Childe himself.

The Duke looks at him again, this time his eyes alight with a streak of mischief that makes Childe's pulse skip a beat in anticipation.

"...Tell you what, if you stop throwing yourself off the mezzanines, I'll reward you."

"A reward from the Duke himself? Must be quite generous!~" Childe fishes coyly for any further information with a lash lidded look and his fingers playing with Wriothesley's tie. The wolfish grin the Duke gives him in response sends a spark flickering down his spine. Wriothesley sets him down, one hand settling familiarly on his hip as the other comes up to tilt his chin up to hold his gaze.

"You'll have to find out, won't you? Although you can rest assured I am a firm believer in paying people what they are owed." Wriothesley's eyes glitter with promise, keeping Childe's breath hostage in the back of his throat. No precise details, huh? Well, Childe is a curious man by nature, so this suits him just fine; the intrigue adds to the fun of it all.

"I'll take you up on that then, Your Grace. I'll make sure to be a good boy for the duration of this visit, and we'll see if your reward is satisfactory enough for me to behave next time, " he teases lightly, and Wriothesley huffs a sharp chuckle of amusement through his nose, giving Childe's hip an affectionate squeeze of agreement before letting go to go pick up what he had dropped earlier to catch him.

Childe missed his touch already.

#genshin impact #wriothesley #childe #tartaglia #wriochi #Wriothesley x Childe #oops that was like half of a fanfic #oh well #i just need it out of my brain #i would have preferred to draw a comic but i don't have the time #so take this for now #a bit more Childe centric than intended #but that's fine

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starsinkpop · 8 months

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ATEEZ Tarot Reading - MTL to get married first

Disclaimer: I do tarot readings for fun, so please read them with a grain of salt. Don’t take my words too seriously and just keep an open mind. Tarot is a divination tool that can’t predict the future, as every single individual has their own will and makes their own decisions. Tarot should be seen as a guidance and a good friend that just has your best interest and gives you advice when needed. I’m not putting anyone in my readings on a pedestal nor am I trying to harm anyone. One last side note, I’m not a native speaker, so please excuse any wrong spellings or poor grammar.

Date of Reading: October 12th 2023

Deck: Ethereal Visions Tarot

Most

Seonghwa/San/Wooyoung

Yunho/Yeosang

Mingi/Jongho

Hongjoong

Least

• • •

Hongjoong - Six of Wands (R), Seven of Cups, XVI The Tower

Marriage doesn’t seem to be something that he has ever really thought of. Seems like he’s doubting he’ll ever get married honestly. Marriage isn’t something he would go for as of now. It’s a concept that doesn’t align with his beliefs and principles.

Seonghwa - Six of Wands, X The Wheel of Fortune, XXI The World

Marriage is something that Seonghwa really desires in his life. He wants that long-term commitment marriage comes with. It would complete and fulfill him. He really can’t wait for a strong connection like a marriage. I also see him being especially excited about the wedding itself. Would definitely be one of the first members to get married.

Yunho - VIII Strength, Seven of Pentacles, XVI The Tower (R)

Yunho wants stability and security in his life. A marriage would bring in more financial stability and he’s a pretty romantic guy who also wants this long-term commitment. So he really needs a deep connection first. He wants to take care of his spouse but also be very well taken care off. Yunho loves the romance behind marriages, especially the “through sickness and health” part. I don’t think he’ll be one of the first ones to get married tho

Yeosang - XIV Temperance, IV The Emperor, XII The Hanged Man

Yeosang also wants to get married but he as well needs a bit of time as there’s some uncertainty about the future. He’s craving this emotional fulfillment and he wants that attachment. He as well wants the stability and security a marriage can bring, but he needs to find a reliable and loyal partner first. So he will also take his time before marriage.

San - Knight of Swords, Knight of Cups, Four of Pentacles, Two of Pentacles

I see San quickly getting married, as he goes for whatever he wants. He wants to find true love and he’s hoping for a passionate relationship. He loves to love and he loves the warmth a marriage can bring. He’s also someone who’s going for long-term commitments and a marriage could bring him the support he needs. However, I think he maybe gets married for the money. Two incomes are better than one and I feel like he would throw the romance over board if he could marry someone who has a lot of financial wealth. He will also be one of the first members to get married.

Mingi - Five of Pentacles (R), XVII The Star, Six of Cups

Mingi is definitely liking the thought of a marriage. He feels like, a good marriage could overcome any issues and it would be positive change in his life. He really wishes for a marriage tbh as it brings in another level of intimacy and strengthen the bond between two loving souls. He also enjoys the financial improvement it could bring. But Mingi needs a lot of time to trust others and he only wants to marry someone he really knows well. So I see him getting married later in life, after many years in the relationship.

Wooyoung - Knight of Wands, Knight of Swords, VI The Lovers, III The Empress

Just like Seonghwa and San, Wooyoung would also be one of the first members to get married. Wooyoung loves relationships, the deeper the better. He wants true and passionate love and what’s better to celebrate that love by getting married. He really wants that love bonding for life, he wants a family and deep emotional connection. A marriage would be such a blissful change in his life and bring his relationship on an even more intimate level which he would absolutely enjoy. He goes for what he wants as well, so as soon as he found the right one, he won’t wait for long to put the ring on it.

Jongho - II The High Priestess, Two Of Cups, XVI The Tower

Jongho wants to get married for sure. Similar to the others, the intimacy and passion it would kindle is something he really wants to experience. He needs a strong soul bond first though and really needs to get to know his partner well. He doesn’t only want a physical connection but especially an emotional connection that would strengthen him. There’s some deeply routed fear of getting divorced tho, which is why I put I’m lower on the list. I think he needs a long time to fully commit to a marriage with his partner.

Love,

~Nicky 🫧

Masterlist

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banana-del-spray · 18 days

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I don't really write, but I had an idea for a bloodweave one shot and a long weekend, so I thought I'd write it lol.

NB: Endgame spoilers!

The Calm Before the Storm

“What in the sweet hells are you up to Gale?” the pale elf exclaimed as he wandered carefully, his arms drifting around, searching for obstructions in his path. Gale stepped behind Astarion, placing a guiding hand on his shoulder,

“Just trust me, my love. It's a surprise, I told you.”

“Well I'm glad you used a blindfold this time, instead of just casting blindness”

“Well a blindfold IS less reliable for the task”

The two chuckled lightly as the wizard guided them both towards the outskirts of Baldur's Gate.

Gale had ushered Astarion out of the camp early in the morning with an excitable grin on his face. Despite the danger that usually resulted from Gales hubris, Astarion found it more and more difficult to say no to the wizard’s whims as time went on. After all, he thought, this is the man who saved him from himself. When he was faced with the irresistible lure of Ascension, almost drunk with the idea of immeasurable power, it was Gale that helped him realise what really mattered. Even now, he shudders to think that he nearly fell victim to the same path that Cazador once walked.

It was a stunning morning in the sword coast. The two men walked in comfortable silence to the outskirts of the city and, as the sun rose, the sky turned from amber to cerulean, although he couldn’t tell, “are we there yet?” Astarion asked, adjusting the satin kerchief around his eyes. “Nearly,” Gale replied, “just a little more patience.”

As they walked, he focused on the senses that were not obscured to try and figure out their destination: the buzz of grasshoppers ringing in the fields; the gentle breeze that kissed his skin; and, of course, that comforting scent of the man in front of him. His scent of musk, rich amber and, of course, books, that was utterly and uniquely Gale. As he turned his focus to the crunch of grass beneath his feet, he felt the gentle pressure of Gale’s hand against his chest, guiding him to a stop, “we’re here,” he said as he gently untied the blindfold.

His eyes adjusted to the now-risen sun, and found that Gale had taken him to a clearing at the edge of a small forest by the city. The clearing overlooked the city, which seemed so unaware of the turmoil the group had faced in recent weeks. And there, just by their feet, a blanket with a woven basket sitting on top. He looked to Gale, body shifting slightly awkwardly as he was now second-guessing the idea, “It’s well…. Um…. a picnic,” he explained to fill the pause, before gesturing towards sitting down. Now, being frank, a picnic was not Astarion’s usual idea of a pastime. In the past, “fun” usually meant debauchery and hedonism - not quite an early morning picnic. Now, however, his heart felt full at this gesture. Had anyone ever taken the time to surprise Astarion like this? He couldn't remember. The only “surprises” he could remember were the “prizes” Cazador gave him for bringing unsuspecting patrons back to the palace: a distended rat, if he was lucky.

He stood, a subtle smile on his face while he stared at this sweet, sincere gesture and this sweet, sincere man. “I knew it, you think it’s cheesy,” Gale sighed as he rubbed his forehead, “It's quite different from the parties you've told me about, I know you were more into bars, and live music…” he began to ramble nervously. In truth, for Astarion, he felt it was perfect. After 200 years of shit, pure shit, even small moments like this were like an oasis in a desert, “My sweet,” he interrupted and the smile grew, reaching his eyes, “I want nothing more.”

He took Gale's hand and let him onto the blanket, who groaned about his aching knees as the two sat down. “What would you like to drink? I have coffee,” he paused to rifle through the basket, “and I do know it's early for this, but I have got some Ithbank, which I know you prefer,” he rifled some more, “or some Asahaba Dusk,”

“Coffee is fine for now,” Astarion chuckled, it still seems so strange that this wizard, who once was Mystra’s chosen, could still be nervous about the mundane. From the basket, Gale drew a kettle, then summoned a small flame beneath it. As the gentle murmuring of the bubbling liquid grew, so did the aroma of coffee. He then produced two small metal cups from the basket, of which he emptied the coffee into. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to Astarion.

Astarion gently grabbed the cup from Gale, “So,” he said, lightly blowing into the cup, “what’s this about?” He tested the temperature with a sip.

“What do you mean?” Gale said, as he filled his coffee with milk and sugar; he much preferred tea.

“This,” the elf said, gesturing around to the picnic, “I mean it’s lovely but,” he took another sip, “what’s the occasion?”

Gale took a sip of his drink, the bitterness had been mediated finally by the overwhelming sweetness. It wasn’t great, but it was tolerable. “No occasion, I just thought it was a nice day, and well” he paused to shift his weight back into his unoccupied hand, “it’s been a moment since we had some alone time,” he groaned slightly as he extended his legs out, “what with, killing vampire lords, tyrannical dukes and murder cults,” he took another sip, “I just wanted to seize this opportunity.” He sighed, and took another sip, clearly unsure of what to do with his hand at this moment.

Astarion eyed Gale with slight suspicion, he knew there was more to this, but he was worried probing further would upset him and ruin this moment. He painted a smirk on his face, “hmmm, ok then,” making light of his suspicions. It wasn’t worth delving further, he decided. He finally started to drink his coffee, strong and bitter, how he liked it. Although his diet was primarily sanguineous, he still enjoyed the rituals of certain things, like fine wine and coffee. He joined Gale in reclining, and continued to drink.

“Oh!” Gale interrupted, “I also came prepared with these!” He said and brought out two sizable books from the basket, “What is that, a basket of holding?” Astarion jested, “Aha, I wish!” Gale replied, and handed Astarion one of the two books, “It’s called ‘Yoshimo is Willing’ - I can’t attest to the quality, but I’ve heard it's quite popular,” Gale opened his copy and began to read. Astarion shifted closer to Gale, and leaned into him, before opening the book, and joining him.

Reading is what brought the two together. When Gale first joined the camp, they both had a mutual disdain for each other, which wasn’t helped by the fact they were often made to set their tents adjacent to each other, which led to rising tensions. It was only when Gale spotted Astarion reading “Devil Don't Rhyme,” which was the same book he happened to be reading at the time. They both found it awful and revelled in tearing into the text. Soon after, the act of reading, side by side, was the pair’s favourite part of the day. As the trials and tribulations of the day came to a close, Astarion found himself looking forward to resting in his camp and reading beside the man he once hated. There was a simple comfort in the action, and one he thankfully found to be reciprocated. The rest of the camp would joke about their “book club,” but for them it was something they quietly cherished.

And today, Astarion found himself in that quiet peace, once again. As he leaned into Gale, he could feel the gentle warmth of the sun beating on his skin; he would never tire of this novel feeling. A gentle breeze draped across him, and the grasshoppers gently continued to chirp. The city seemed so far away, along with the noise and stress and danger that came with it. He stared at the pages of the book, his eyelids becoming heavy.

Gale could not help but stare, completely unable to focus on Yoshimo's salacious adventures. The stress of making sure this day was perfect had melted away.

The elf was impossibly beautiful. His skin was like alabaster, while his hair caught the sunlight and shone like quartz. A beautiful jewel, sitting here and resting so gently on his shoulder. He had loved a goddess before this, but nothing seemed more ethereal, more beautiful, than the man drifting to sleep beside him.

His eyes were fixated on Astarion, as if he was trying to burn this image into his mind forever. Without thinking, his hand began to gently brush through the silver hair. The elf shifted slightly, as the gesture clearly lulled him closer to sleep. Gale had seen Astarion steal, fight, murder and beg, but seeing him like this, so vulnerable, was always the most surprising. His hand trailed from his hair and he started to trace his cheek with his fingers, then his nose, his jaw, and then, his lips. Those defined, yet soft lips. Gale found himself pulling those lips towards him, meeting them with his.

Astarion woke with soft surprise, lips pressed against Gale’s. He pulled his mouth away slightly, “I do rather like that, you know,” his mouth widened into a smile, “As do I,” Gale whispered back, pulling Astarion’s head closer and kissing him deeper. Gale’s breath quickened as his tongue pressed between their parted lips, and hand moved down. His heart was pounding with desire, and he moved his hand under his shirt and felt Astarion’s cool skin as he held his lower back. Astarion could feel Gale’s warmth as the wizard slowly leaned forward until he was directly on top of him. Needing to breathe, Astarion pulled away from the kiss, caught by surprise by the look in Gale’s eyes. Where he was used to seeing tenderness, he saw a desperate urgency, like a balloon trying to contain a storm within, and ready to burst. “What’s wrong, Gale?”

“Nothing, my love,” he said between breaths, and leaned in to kiss again. Astarion placed his hand on Gale’s chest, gently pushing him back,

“Seriously Gale,” he said, firmly, “this isn’t like you.” He slowly shifted away from under Gale and began to sit up. Gale recoiled at the rejection, also sitting up and sighing. He rubbed his eyes with his hands, “Ok,” he relented.

The day was still warm, but a few clouds began to pepper the sky, occasionally interrupting the sun. The two were reclining on the blanket, facing each other as the faint scent of coffee faded as the drinks cooled.

“Tomorrow-” Gale started, “tomorrow, we’re facing the Netherbrain.” He paused as he tried to find the words to say, the silence no longer comfortable, “After everything we’ve been through, I almost feel like we can do anything we set our minds to, you taught me I was enough” He cupped Astarion’s cheek, “we were enough - but -” His eyes darted to the ground, as he dropped his hand down again, “but this truly feels impossible,” Astarion placed his hand over Gale’s, “At best, we defeat it, clear the tadpoles and you never get to see the sun again.” Gale swallowed as the words became stuck, “at worst…. At worst….” he pointed to the orb in his chest.

The fragility of both of their situations, of their relationship, had been a painful truth that they had both ignored.

Gale swallowed again as his eyes began to well up, “before we confronted everything,” he continued, mouth twitching with discomfort, “I… I just wanted to give you one more day to enjoy the sun, to enjoy this,” he gestured to the view of the city, “and for me to enjoy, well, us.” He sat up and brought his knees to his chest, unsure of what to do with himself, “I’m sorry, I tried to make this perfect for you,” he trailed off, burying his face with defeat.

Astarion moved closer, “my darling,” he said, stroking Gale’s hair, “you don’t need to try, you’re perfect as you are, and so are the moments we share,” he paused and smirked, thinking of the many near-death situations they have encountered thus far, “well, most of them,” he corrected with a chuckle. He placed his hand under Gale’s chin and raise his head again, meeting eye to eye, “things aren’t looking great for tomorrow, I can’t deny that,” he paused to search for the right words, “but I’m not afraid, not of mindflayers or netherbrains, not of the sunlight, and certainly not of that” he said and mimicked Gale’s gesture towards the orb in his chest. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that nothing is for certain - I’ve spent hundreds of years clawing through each day, just trying to survive.” He continued to play with the brunette strands, as the dispersed silver threads caught the light, “so these moments, the present, are all we can be sure of,” A warm smile grew, “and spending them with you, well, that's enough,” he rested his forehead against Gale’s, his voice now almost a whisper “you brought my cold, dead heart to life, Gale, and no matter what the future brings, I will never regret these moments.” They both sat in brief quietude, simply enjoying each others’ presence.

“Thank you, Astarion,” Gale whispered, breaking the silence, “I can be a fool sometimes, you’re absolutely right,” with a deep breath, the tension eased from his body, “they say, misery is the thief of joy,” he said, returning to his usual cadence.

“Besides,” Astarion sat up and cleared his throat, “I thought we all made it clear that you are not going to do anything with that,” he pointed firmly to Gale’s chest and playfully pushed him backwards, “it would be a waste of a perfectly good Gale, after all,” he jested.

He climbed over Gale, and leaned his face close with a mischievous grin, “As you rightly said, tomorrow might be a shitshow,” he paused to briefly kiss him, “so let’s enjoy today as much as we can, darling,” his lips meeting Gale’s once again.

Gale gently pushed Astarion up, confusing him with the gesture. Then, with sudden strength and dexterity, he pushed Astarion to his back and positioned himself above the elf. Leaning closer, he whispered into Astarion’s ear, “once again, you’re absolutely right.”

He kissed Astarion with a deep passion, once again, but now with confidence and certainty. As they kissed, his hand explored Astarion’s body. The angles of his collar, his broad shoulders, his pale chest, the skin smooth and cool to the touch. He playfully bit Astarion’s lip before breaking from their kiss, both breathless from the moment. Gale and Astarion looked at each other, with fierce desire in their eyes. He moved his lips down, his tongue tracing the lines of Astarion’s body, who moaned gently with pleasure. His hand pulled them closer together, both feeling the want building within their bodies. He closed the gap between their mouths once again as his hand trailed down Astarion’s torso, removing the clothing that separated them.

Gale grew dizzy with desire, as he saw Astarion lying beneath him, his fang biting onto his lips as he breathlessly waited for the next move. It was too difficult to hold back any longer. He entered Astarion and the two bodies melted into each other. “Gods, yes” Astarion moaned and with each thrust, pleasure built between them. All of the stresses, the worries, had worn away, leaving only their lust and their bodies moving together in rhythm.

The sun had begun to lower in the sky, and the two laid together, calm and content. They had dressed again, but the clothes draped with less finesse than when they arrived. Astarion took Gale’s hand in his, “We didn’t really enjoy the sunshine that much,” he joked as he leaned his head closer to Gale, “I guess not.” Gale chuckled back.

“Well,” Gale started, “we should probably start heading back.”

“Yeah, we probably should,” Astarion agreed, though neither made any effort to move. The air cooled as the sun slowly began to set.

“We’ll be ok, Gale.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 companions #astarion #gale dekarios #bloodweave #bg3 fanfiction

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 1 year

Text

Mary-go-round... Lan Zhan does not

@sasukimimochi here you go, the ficlet for your prompt <3 writing this made my heart warm, I got to remember so many of my own fond memories with amusement parks and fairs!

Prompt: here

Lan Wangji does not have regrets. He doesn't regret taking up education instead of music as his major, he doesn't regret moving in with Wei Ying after a month (well, 23 days) of dating and, of course, he does not and will never regret falling in love with Wei Ying no matter what his uncle has to say about it.

However, Lan Wangji now regrets something - and the moment the rollercoaster handler fastens the seatbelts and metal bars over his lap, Lan Wangji regrets it even more.

Why did he have to pretend to be brave? He's not. Really, there's not a brave bone in his body - not when it comes to this... contraption that's called something like The Deadly Loop Of Doom and Despair. Very aptly named, yes, but - but the point is that Lan Wangji regrets letting Wei Ying drag him into this.

Of course, if he said something, Wei Ying would have understood and respected it - but Lan Zhan just had to paint himself as this tough man that Wei Ying could always rely on for anything... so now, here is, about to go on the Deadly Loop Of Doom And Despair and probably die during it. So much for being tough and reliable.

He hates heights, he hates loops and spins - and he absolutely does not trust these shoddy safety measures that these very young employees are fastening onto people. Shouldn't there be more engineers around? Safety inspectors? Police? Priests??

Lan Zhan already feels dizzy and the thing hasn't even left ground yet. Well, if he dies at least he's gonna have Wei Ying by his side.

Wei Ying whose face is lit up like a Christmas tree, looking everywhere around, nearly vibrating with excitement in his seat.

Lan Zhan loves him so much - but he's never going to do this with him again.

The ride begins moving and Lan Zhan's stomach drops. This definitely has to be some kind of torture device, he's definitely going to have to check that Geneva Convention again one of these days, perhaps he can sue the park for unsafe practices, human rights violations or at least emotional damage.

The ride picks up speed and Lan Zhan realizes he's going to need to be alive to do those things and he doubts he will be.

---

Wei Ying jumps off his seat like he's actioned by spring, and he begins talking up a storm about how "cool" and "fun" that was.

It was so cool and fun that Lan Wangji can barely keep himself upright, and he's pretty sure he's mentally converted to at least 5 different religions.

"...Lan Zhan? Are you okay?"

Wei Ying looks concerned now, worry on his features much too pretty. Lan Zhan nods and takes his hand, hoping his fingers aren't shaking as much as his knees are.

He feels like a newborn, but in a bad way. No, he doesn't know what that means.

Wei Ying seems unconvinced. "Did something happen? You look a little... haunted."

He is.

"I'm fine."

Wei Ying tries to analyze his expression again, and Lan Zhan hopes his poker face is as good as Nie Huaisang complains it to be when they play cards.

It seems to be, because Wei Ying is back to dragging him around, and Lan Zhan is more than happy with that arrangement as long as there are no rollercoasters around.

---

The boy shoots his last arrow but misses the target miserably.

"Sorry, kid, the bunny plushie stays right here with me!" the vendor laughs and the boy sticks his tongue out at him before running off towards his parents.

Lan Zhan can practically see the idea be born inside Wei Ying's mind when he walks up to the stand and pays for a turn. There are a few kids in line behind him, and he turns to them as he picks up the bow from the vendor.

"In order to be a good archer, you need to have good grip on the bow, like this. Keep your back and shoulders straight."

He turns towards the target and the kids huddle to a side, to observe. "Place the arrow right against the middle point of the string, following the direction of your target."

Lan Zhan watches his form, perfect (and incredibly attractive), and imagines himself in those stereotypical scenarios with an apple on his head, half naked, Wei Ying testing his archery skills on him.

This is so not the place for such fantasies.

"And then, you focus on the target, take a deep breath, and..."

Wei Ying decides to show off, winks at Lan Zhan and closes his eyes, spinning elegantly in place, once. He lets go of the bow string as he stops and everybody watches the arrow fly with baited breaths.

It hits right on target, bullseye.

The children cheer and Wei Ying does a little curtsy their way as the vendor begrudgingly hands him the giant plushie.

"Here." Wei Ying says as he hands it to Lan Zhan. "This is for you!"

Lan Zhan huffs a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh and kisses Wei Ying's forehead. "My hero."

---

Lan Zhan is not used to having sugary treats often. When he was little, uncle said he became restless if he had too much processed sugar, so he rarely got to indulge in candy and cakes as a result. The habit was drilled into him, so his interest in sweets remained low all the way through adulthood... until now.

He is on his second serving of cotton candy and he feels at the height of decadence. Wei Ying bites into a candy apple himself, and he looks much like a happy chipmunk chewing on it. Lan Zhan is going to kiss him about it - later, when he's done indulging in this frivolous pink dessert that feels like he's biting into a soft, sticky, sugar cloud.

"You look like you're having a religious experience." Wei Ying laughs. "Last time I saw you like that was the first time you saw me naked."

Lan Zhan half glares at him as he bites into the cotton candy. "Ridiculous."

"No, it's true, you do look like you've made a big discovery about yourself."

And he has. He's starting to understand why uncle didn't let him have sugar as a child - he suddenly feels restless and full of energy, and he knows the sugar crash is going to be terrible after.

But never mind that.

They're selling gingerbread figurines two stalls over.

---

"We need to bring A-Yuan with us next time!" Wei Ying says as he and Lan Zhan walk out of the amusement park, fingers interlocked. "He's going to have so much fun here!"

"No big rollercoasters for him." Lan Zhan says and doesn't only mean A-Yuan.

"Oh, no, he's way too young! That's for grown-ups, only we can handle that kind of thing."

Wei Ying doesn't see the 'speak for yourself' in his lover's side eye as he climbs into the car.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts

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ceterisparibus116 · 1 year

Note

What do you think about Matt going to meet Vanessa in season 1?

GLORIOUS.

Like. Let's talk about irony. He's the only person in the room with full knowledge of the stakes. To Vanessa, he's just a customer. To Fisk, he's opposing counsel. Only Matt knows the whole picture. The resulting ironic tension is so good.

Plus, his flirtation with Vanessa. Endlessly entertaining. Thus far, he's scoping her out and spying, but he's not really worried. In fact, I think he's even having fun (or, at least, open to having fun). For all he knows, she might be a neutral person or even a good person. She might be a victim of Fisk's manipulations. In other words, he doesn't see her as an enemy. Not yet. So he's relaxed and charming.

Then Fisk shows up, and you can practically hear the sirens going off in his brain. Charlie's acting is so, so good as he shows Matt's struggle to appear normal in front of a man he hates so much.

Also, from a character standpoint, I love seeing Matt's adaptivity on display. His planning / thinking ahead skills may be lacking (or perhaps just suffering from disuse), but if there's one thing Matt is reliably good at, it's adapting to whatever situation he finds himself in. This adaptability can sometimes seem manipulative or untrustworthy, but it's simply a skill that can be used for good of evil - and it's a highly important skill for a trial attorney.

I love what it says about Matt as a character that his first strategy in investigating Vanessa was: "I'll literally show up, as myself, at her art gallery." Karen would've researched Vanessa's entire history before meeting her face-to-face, but Matt doesn't feel the need to put in that kind of prep work. He'd rather roll the dice, and trusts himself to manage whatever happens.

(This is shown even more in the comics, where Matt and Foggy explicitly acknowledge that Foggy is better at prep work, and Matt is better at thinking on his feet.)

Overall, I just adore this scene for so many reasons.

Thank you for the fun ask!

#matt murdock #vanessa marianna #vanessa fisk #daredevil #asks #ask me things i'm friendly

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yoongisleftearring · 1 year

Text

part twenty-five: femme fatale

D O N ’ T T E L L !

pairing: Oni!Seungmin x Werewolf!reader x Siren!Hyunjin

-> in which after witnessing something you shouldn’t have, a particularly intimidating Oni forces you to keep his secret only to tangle you up in their mess

word count: 2.7k

a/n: we have made it!! i had so much fun writing this chapter i hope you all enjoy <3

warnings: cursing, suggestive, mature themes, basically the closest thing to smut so...

previous < masterlist > next

Taglist:@channieboyo @randomness7198 @tangerminie @rubberduckieyourtheone @sugarrush-blush @tfkp0p @putmetogetheragain13 @imtoooyoungforthisshit @zoe8stay @slut-for-dabi @moon-gyus @wondering-out-loud @lonewolfjinji @midsoulz @simeonswhore @icouldntcareless22 @smollquokka @aestheticsluut @r0w3n4sstuff @nxahlxl @imtoanonymousforyou

Jeongin was sick of it.

He was so tired of all the tip-toeing and hesitancy. Every relationship that had developed within his friend group felt like it had to be some twisted mess with unnecessary drama. Why was it never easy? Well, maybe not Jisung and Changbin. They just seemed to happen, and no one is sure how they did, considering how different the two are.

Seungmin just had to go and overlogicalise everything. The man doesn't have an off button.

Nevertheless, Jeongin had to find a solution. And, through some careful meddling, he had done it.

Or, nearly, at least.

Just one last step.

"Yang Jeongin!" you howled from your bedroom, the door flying open a second later to reveal you wearing the dress he had bought. He whistled. "Shut the fuck up," you rolled your eyes, stepping out of your room fully to look into the full-length mirror that lay against a wall in the hallway of your dorm. "Who do you think I am? A femme fatale?"

"Tonight. You are. And you're on a mission," he replies.

"Jeongin," you groaned. "This is real life, not a movie, and I need you to tell me if this is too much."

"Trust me, it's not," he assured. "You look amazing, and when they see you-" he lets out a low whistle while he swipes imaginary sweat from his forehead. "Let's just say this plan will have a very high chance of succeeding."

You huffed out a breath at your friend's words, glancing at him in the reflection of the mirror and then back to your form. You had to admit, you looked great. And you felt confident. But even that confidence was slightly numbed by the anxiety of facing the two men at the centre of your scheme.

You could never have expected this; how could you? Last year, the names Kim Seungmin and Hwang Hyunjin were just that; names. Although you had a considerable one-sided history with the latter name, still, you didn't actually know them. Catching feelings for Hyunjin or, rather, building on your already existing feelings for him wasn't much of a surprise to you. You had always admired him, and getting to know him just solidified that admiration. It felt natural, really.

But catching feelings for Kim Seungmin? Yeah, that was a surprise. You hadn't known much about the man before you knew too much. He tended to keep to himself, but Chan would mention how he was a loyal friend. Loyalty and reliability meant a lot to you, naturally. And Seungmin radiated warmth, and even though he was extremely hard-headed in the beginning, you appreciated how far he was willing to go to protect his relationship. It was strange. You felt like the feelings hit you all at once, even though Jeongin would argue that he had seen this coming from a mile away, and maybe he had a point; maybe you were so scared of the newness and complexity of the relationship that you had unintentionally suppressed your feelings, hoping not to become a complication for your new-found friends.

But now it was too late. You realised, and you had a feeling you weren't the only one.

Things couldn't be the same. And if this were to go wrong and the ever-so-confident Yang Jeongin happened to be incorrect, then you would take the blow with dignity and pride. That would be what a normal person would do. Though, you had a feeling that a situation like that would end up with you running away with your hopefully metaphorical tail between your legs, blocking the two men on every social media platform and spending the rest of your living days in your dorm room.

With one last spray of perfume, you called out to Jeongin to tell him that you were ready to leave, ending his constant whining about how he would be late to his own party.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Hyunjin watched as his boyfriend furiously ripped through his wardrobe, trying to find the perfect shirt.

"Since when do you care how you look?" Hyunjin chuckles. Seungmin turns to shoot the man a glare before he goes back to rummaging.

"I always care," he retorts. "But I don't often frequent parties, and my wardrobe is a reflection of that." Hyunjin lets out a laugh at that. "Help me," Seungmin groans.

"Here," Hyunjin quickly locates a shirt for the man, throwing it in his direction. "Wear that."

"This?" Seungmin holds up the light material, inspecting it. It was a sheer black shirt he had only seen Hyunjin wear maybe once.

"Is there a problem?" Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at him.

"Just this?"

"You could wear a vest or nothing," he shrugs, a small teasing smile on his face.

Sengmin mumbles something incoherent under his breath, and Hyunjin lets out a chuckle as the man goes back to searching, this time for a vest to put under the revealing garment.

"You're more nervous than usual, Seungmo," Hyunjin comments.

"No, I'm not."

"Could it have something to do with a certain someone attending the party tonight?"

"What are you insinuating?"

"Oh, nothing," he smiles, opening his phone and turning his attention to it. "Just, if something funny were to happen, make sure to include me in the joke."

Seungmin knew Hyunjin well, well enough to know that there was a secondary motive behind his words, and Seungmin wasn't sure if he could deal with the consequences.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"Oh, fuck." Hyunjin stared down at his phone. His boyfriend was in the bathroom and decided to scroll through Twitter to pass the time. Now, he regretted that decision.

Jeongin had posted a picture. Of you.

Your face was obscured from view, so he had no choice but to focus on the lines of your body. You looked good. Infuriatingly good. The simple black dress complimented your figure, but the chain wrapped around your thigh was what drove him wild.

Hyunjin gulped. The nerves were starting to hit him now. It felt real all of a sudden.

How had this even happened? You found out about him and his boyfriend by mistake, and then a rather questionable series of events led to Seungmin spending extended amounts of time with you. Hyunjin would be lying if he said he hadn't gotten at least a little bit jealous of how much his boyfriend was focusing on you, so he said it. He wanted to be included. He wanted to see what all the fuss was about. He watched as Seungmin slowly started to fall for you. It was the little things that he would pick up on, things that would remind him of when he and Seungmin first got together. It should have bothered him. It would bother any normal person. But, he guessed, nobody here was normal. He found it amusing. He found it cute how oblivious Seungmin was to his own feelings when they were so clear to him. He liked it. And he grew to like you too. He had always been attracted to you. He had eyes, after all. But it was after those tweets were reposted that he knew. After he read how you actually got him. How you defended him without even truly knowing him.

He wished he knew you before, but then maybe this whole thing wouldn't have happened. But now, he needed you.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You stood in the surprisingly spacious living room; that's the reason they have parties here. Their dorm is huge.

Chan rambled on about how he had been scouting out places for a possible den for the pack, and you probably should have been listening, but you couldn't. Not when you were this nervous.

"You're boring her," Lee Minho interrupts, earning a glare from the wolf. Minho's arm was wrapped around his girlfriend's waist, and you wondered if they were here this whole time.

"I'm literally talking about our futures," Chan deadpanned.

"Exactly," he retorted. "Boring." Chan all but gives up, offering you a shrug.

"Ah, look who's here," Chan speaks again, motioning to the door with a smile. You know it's them before you see them, and your heart rate spikes. You turn to look at them as they walk through the door, being welcomed by Jeongin, who sends you a wink as he hugs Hyunjin.

The two men meet your eye as soon as they turn to scan the room. They start making their way over to you, and you need to calm your heart which is beating erratically.

The plan. Femme fatale.

Your nervous expression is replaced by one of confidence, a small smile dancing on your red-coated lips.

"Hey." Hyunjin leads, leaning in to hug you, and you can't help but notice how good he smells. He pulls away, and you can't help but feel a tension pull between you as he does so. The look in his eyes is heavy, and you don't have the head to decipher it right now. Seungmin is next, following Hyunjin's lead and pulling you carefully into his arms. He smells divine too. They must share an aftershave, you notice. He mumbles a small 'hi' into your hair before he pulls away, staying by your side.

"So, the two lovebirds are back talking?" Minho questions.

"We-" Seungmin falters, confused by the question before he remembers. "We- Yes! That- that was nothing. We're all good. Great." Hyunjin feels himself grimace at the man's definitely inconspicuous response.

"I think we could use a drink," Hyunjin speaks as he links arms with Seungmin. "Y/n, you know this place better than we do," Hyunjin motioned towards the kitchen, and your eyes widened. You swiftly nodded, ready to take a quick escape. The three of you moved quickly towards the kitchen, Hyunjin letting go of his hold on Seungmin so he could lead the pack.

"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast. You can't break tradition," Jisung called out, pointing up to the small plant atop the doorframe Hyunjin had just slipped through.

"Mistletoe? It's not Christmas," Seungmin argued.

"Yeah, well. Someone had to liven the place up a bit," he explained. "I was hoping for a bit more drama than a couple, but you'll have to do for now. Now kiss."

"Oh," you chuckle, looking around to see your friends as well as a few random onlookers waiting for your reaction. "I'm sure Chan doesn't want to see that. I'm basically like his daughter." Jisung turns to Chan who seems uncomfortable with the sudden spotlight being drawn on him.

"I'm not a prude," Chan replies, slightly offended. Well shit. You really thought that would work.

"Look, you're literally dating. Just kiss so we can move on." Fuck you, Han Jisung.

You're at a loss, and if you know anything about Han Jisung, that evil little mole rat won't rest until he's got what he wants. You look at Seungmin, who looks back at you with wide eyes, and your gaze snaps to Hyunjin, who stands not even a foot away on the other side of the door, eyes trained on the both of you, face void of emotion.

Well, this is what you're here for, right? Fuck it.

You grab the collar of the shirt Seungmin is wearing and drag him closer to your face. His eyes widen even further, and you can't help but think how cute he looks at this moment. You push your lips on his without hesitation because you thought that if you did, you would chicken out.

Your lips met his plush ones, and you lifted one of your hands into his hair, pulling on the strands. That seemed to snap him from his shocked state, his lips working against yours. You could feel Hyunjin's gaze burning into the two of you, and you pulled away. You smirk as you see the red lipstick that is now smudged across his mouth. He doesn't say a word as you let go of the grip you had on him and take a step back. You hear Jisung let out a sound of compliance before walking away, but all you can focus on is the look in Hyunjin's eyes. He looked furious as he looked between the two of you, stepped toward you and grabbed Seungmin's face, wiping the red from his lips with the sleeve of his silk shirt. The deep red colour stained the white of his shirt, but he didn't seem to care.

Nobody was paying attention to whatever the three of you were doing now.

Hyunjin turned his back, looking over his shoulder to tell you both to follow him. He walked through into Jeongin's room, letting you both through the door before closing it.

"Look, I'm sor-" you began, only to be interrupted by the furious siren.

"You. Shut the fuck up," he growls as he steps closer to you. All that was going through your head was:

What the fuck.

"You come here wearing that. And then you kiss my boyfriend right in front of me," Hyunjin pants, his breathing becoming increasingly ragged the closer he comes to you. Seungmin watched his boyfriend's every move with bated breath, waiting to see what would happen. He doesn't think he's ever seen his boyfriend like this before.

"Well, when you put it like that-" you replied as you stared into Hyunjin's dark irises. Something in them egged you on, made you want to push, to give in finally. "What if I levelled the playing field?" you say, your fingers trailing up the length of his arm, dancing across his chest to rest upon his collarbone exposed by his shirt that he hadn't managed to button up very far. Hyunjin just watched you, letting you tell him what to do next, giving you the control to decide what would happen tonight. "That's what you wanted, right? Why else would you drag us into the closest bedroom?" Hyunjin's face held little to no emotion, but his eyes danced; he was enjoying this. You glanced down at his full lips, which were so close to your own. He was all you could see, all you could smell, and you couldn't resist any further. You closed the gap between your lips, and Hyunjin responded immediately, kissing you with desperation and hunger. One of his hands travelled to your cheek while the other slipped down the small of your back, forcefully grabbing your ass through the fabric of your dress. You heard a quiet moan beside you, making you pull from Hyunjin to look to your side. Seungmin stood, his eyes almost black as he stared at the two of you. No words were exchanged as Seungmin stepped closer, not hesitating to put his lips on yours. Hyunjin still held you. His lips travelled from your jaw to your neck, biting and sucking on the tender skin as he watched the two of you. It was addictive.

The sound of the door handle managed to evade your senses, but the small panicked squeak didn't. You broke away from Seungmin, looking between the two men to the now-opened door. Lee Felix stood with wide eyes, trying to comprehend the scene before him. Seungmin's lips swollen, his hair messy, and Hyunjin, with his lips still attached to your skin, shirt now almost falling off his shoulders . With red stains across your mouth, the blotches of colour leading down to where Hyunjin's face was buried, you panted, staring back at the fairy.

"I'm- I- I'm gonna go. Go-good luck," he grimaced before swiftly shutting the door behind him. You watched where the man had just disappeared from, your gaze then sweeping back to the two men, you let out a muted chuckle, and the two men followed.

"Oh my god," you laughed breathily. Seungmin shook his head, a small smile on his face. He turned to his boyfriend.

"Hyunjin, lock the door," he spoke, his voice low as his small smile slowly faded as he looked back at you. Hyunjin wore an amused smirk as he quickly moved to turn the lock on the door.

"Now, where were we?"

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"Jisung, have you seen y/n around? I swear if she left, I'll kill her," Jeongin shouted over the booming music.

"I dunno, haven't seen her since she went into your room with Seungmin and Jinnie," he shrugged in response.

"Ah, okay. Thanks," he replied. Then stopped. "They went into my room?"

"Uh, yeah? Last I saw."

"Oh, my god," he cried. "I'll fucking kill all of them."

"If you need help, I got you," Jisung offered. Jeongin gave no reaction to the man, walking away with a look of pure disgust plastered on his face.

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