#And I’m especially sick of the fucking people. And especially my housemates

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

I am so fucking done with living down south. Someone get me home

[episbep]

rehab day thirty two

I don’t wanna be here anymore - I appreciate the help and I know that I need it but I’m in a house with a man I can’t stand being around, my crush has confirmed that I have “competition” with the girl that he fucking lives with (who is gorgeous and tall and slim and just generally much better than me) and I do not want to compete for him, I feel like I’ve gotta prove I’m worth it and I know I’m not and I’ve literally just let myself be vulnerable and told him that I like him, I’m a fucking jealous dickhead and an embarrassment. what did I think was gonna happen? that a great love story was gonna start in motherfucking REHAB?!!?? delusional bitch. now I fucking see why relationships aren’t recommended in treatment/early recovery!!!!

Feel like shit, not having fun, really wanna go home and get fucked up, watch the Care Bears movie and cuddle up with my cat I’ve had enough of this now, feel like everyone is sick of me and no one likes me, I don’t like myself, fucking had enough. Every time I think or feel like I’m doing better something happens that makes me see that I’m still so fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional (fine)

sent flex a message first thing this morning and cut things off completely, he spoke to me about it later in the day, said it was fine but then kissed my neck - one of the girls I was with stood up for me and helped me reiterate the boundary tho which I appreciate.

spoke about my mum’s husband in group therapy and was confirmed that the only people I’m hurting are her and my sunshine, and holding onto that resentment is using up so much energy that isn’t productive, healthy, helpful or loving. they recommended I write a no-send letter.

had acupuncture - always love it, always helps me feel calm and generally much better.

ex-peer share was really good and helpful, took a lot from it and shared back to him

the baby’s head appeared in my window earlier lol, hence the picture up top 🔝

AA meeting tonight was also really good, really raw main share and shares back - especially “I just don’t know where the next drink will take me” (after sharing an anecdote of waking up in a police cell for assaulting two officers in an airport after trying to board a plane with no passport)

oh my friend called again, he’s expecting a baby!!! my ex called him again yesterday apparently he still wants to “have a conversation” with me. I’m not ready and I don’t want to, so I’m keeping him blocked.

phone call with crush was where it all went south, he muted me when she came in his room to speak to him and told me I have competition, in which case she can and will easily win. I’m not interested if it’s gonna make me feel like this. Time to take a step back and actually focus on myself. Don’t have the energy to beg for dick. It’s only gonna keep on making me feel worse and I’m here to get better.

watching porco rocco with the only housemate whose company I enjoy, eating my feelings and ordering prescription meds online. fuck off.

[unsprouted-seed]

Yeah ... I knew this was coming. Eating is too much... Is it really a relapse at this point? was it ever not? Hard questions to answer... either way I’m definitely back.

I think it’s just... gonna be like this. At least til I see my dr. The constant fight for control, back and forth. Starve one day, eat the next. But I feel very much detached from it right now.

Got tired of being sober. Drank some more. Seems like a terrible fucking idea, especially on an empty stomach, esp after such a bad experience so recently. Oh well. I’m taking it WAY slower. Had one glass of wine and I’m already pretty tipsy... no need to push it too far, I’m just glad to be feeling a bit out of it. Sobriety’s just too hard right now. ‘sides, wine’s got lots of cals... so better if I don’t have too much...

Pulled the trigger on my new housemate. My current housing situation’s on the verge of dissolving and the alternative’s moving in with my family which... god, what a nightmare that would be. So I stopped pretending I have a real option and just told my new housemate to come on down. I’ll work out the details when I work them out... I’m sick of having to have all the answers for everyone so hopefully it’ll work out but I can’t see the future... all I know is that it’s more likely to work out okay with another person than not. Maybe it’ll be great.

My uncle’s a recovering alcoholic. Apparently so much so that the doctors were afraid that he’d go into critical withdrawals if he stopped drinking too fast. Like, a really intense alcoholic. I’ve known plenty of alcoholics, drug addicts, and mentally complex people... and I had no idea that he had this situation. When he told me it was a big surprise, because I’d always thought of him as a really stable, put-together guy. Made me wonder...

I sit here and think ... I HATE being seen to eat, I HATE being seen to gain weight, to be seen to even be the weight I am now. I hate the idea of people looking at me and thinking “She doesn’t LOOK anorexic to me...” when I told mum it was SO hard because she had exactly the reaction I expected: shock. It was like... the least likely thing I could’ve said to her. Partly cos I hid it really well and partly cos... I don’t “look anorexic.” And that makes it SO fucking hard to even consider recovery. Not just because I don’t feel anything like what I want to... I’m nowhere near a gw that would work for me. But because ... when people look at me... people who KNOW I’m anorexic... I can FEEL their judgement, FEEL them scanning me for signs and symptoms and hints and shit, I feel the need to prove myself because my body doesn’t do it for me. I LOVE blood tests because they’re a catastrophe. I can point at them and say “SEE??? SEE????? IT SAYS RIGHT THERE, STARVATION!! LOOK I’M NOT LYING!”

I know that I’m paranoid. I KNOW that I’m paranoid, I’ve looked it up, I’m definitionally paranoid, I’ve been paranoid my whole life. I KNOW that when I can ... FEEL people judgeing me, when I can almost hear their thoughts, when I’m so fucking frail to their gaze and I’m cowering by the door wondering what the delivery person will think of me for ordering whatever i’ve ordered, or when I KNOW what my family’s imagining as they look at me, or when I just...

I know I’m paranoid.

But that doesn’t make me less paranoid. It just makes me more aware of how crazy I am, and more angry at myself for not being able to change it.

And I know that paranoia is a part of anorexia. I know the two go hand in toxic hand, dragging me down the same terrible path. I know that... even as I feel absolutely powerless to stop it. But I can’t help but wonder... When I describe anorexia to people addicted to other things I find it so helpful to describe it in terms of addiction. Addiction to control, to loss, to pain, to the agony of it. I just wonder... does my uncle fear that he doesn’t look alcoholic enough? Does he sit there and think ... if people don’t see him at his worst... was it even real? If he doesn’t hit rock bottom... if he’s not in hospital... if he’s not in the grave... is he alcoholic enough for people to treat him well? For them to believe him? For him to truly, honestly recover?

Would that even make sense to him to ask?

[kookieswan]

This is my very real spooky story: My family and I used to live in Benton Harbor, Michigan. My house at the time was located in Cass St. if anybody is familiar with it. As I am just in the 5th grade at this time going to the school Morton Hill Elementary in the winter time. So, I was at home sick from this particular day so I was just hanging out with my dad. The maintenance man was over fixing the heater as we were renting. This is an old white dude. He was telling us the history of this house. Y'all, he said our house was an old house that housed slaves. He took us down to the basement and moved this huge heavy ass board (it looked like it hadn't been moved in years) showing a hole in the wall. My dad standing at 6"6 & 250+ pounds and the older white guy is short, maybe 5"5-5"6 an easy 130. I watched them both crawl into this hole in the basement they were in there for 10 minutes. I got the sense that someone was watching me the entire time but it came off as protective. They came out of that whole with these old as wooden dishes. They said they saw mildewed cots and shit in there. I'll never forget the fucking terrified look on my father's face. He washed his hands and was eerily silent while doing so. He grabbed me and hugged me so hard. He was shaking. The electrician quietly spoke saying "I wanted y'all as a black family to know this house has held horrors. It may not be good for y'all to stay here for a long time.". The house was definitely off. My brother's room was always warm which me and my sisters rooms was always cold as ice. Nothing ever hurt us in that housem I've always felt like there was a protective spirit watching over us. We didnt stay there long. I've learned that since we've moved, that house has been torn down. I still get chills thinking about it.

That’s absolutely terrifying, I can’t even imagine the horrors that would come with finding something like that out. Nothing is more scary than fining old closed off parts of a house, especially if there’s creepy stuff in it, and especially if there’s such horrible history behind it… Good on that dude for informing your dad about the history.

It’s insane to me that people aren’t required to disclose information like that to potential buyers/renters. (I think deaths and whatnot are required for buying but that’s all I know) Bad energy is real and it totally can negatively affect someone’s life, but I’m glad you had some positive energy around you for protection!

Thank you for sharing! 😌

[let-the-dream-begin]

When the World is Free Chapter 2: From My Sinking Sand to Your Solid Ground

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

The first thing Claire was aware of was the pounding of her head.

She groaned loudly, and even that sound made her head split. She roughly rubbed her eyes and tried to open them, then chickened out when the sunlight sent a knife between her eyes.

The second thing she was aware of was that she was stark naked.

Oh, fuck.

That was enough to shake her from her stupor. She sat straight up and searched the room blearily, but John was nowhere to be seen.

Thank God.

She didn’t think she could bear to do a walk of shame in her own bedroom.

She’d thought perhaps it had been a wild, alcohol induced dream. But apparently she really had stripped herself and her homosexual husband naked and ridden him into oblivion. And then cried herself to sleep on top of him.

Jesus fucking Christ.

She pulled a robe out of the wardrobe and wound it tightly around herself, not bothering to dress since she most definitely needed a shower anyway. She emerged from the bedroom, already cringing. The smell of coffee wafted into her consciousness, and it was enough to draw her from the doorway and into the kitchen.

John was sitting at the table with his own cup, staring blankly at the wall in front of him until the pitter patter of Claire’s bare feet caught his attention.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice clipped.

Christ, he could barely look at her.

“The pot should still be hot.”

Claire forced a tight-lipped smile as she shuffled over to the pot of coffee and poured herself a mug. “Thank you.”

He hummed awkwardly in response. Claire sat down slowly with her cup, cringing at the sound of the chair scraping against the floor.

“That bad, is it?”

Claire groaned and rubbed between her eyes, carefully setting the hot mug down in front of her. “Indeed.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence for several agonizing moments, each quietly sipping their coffee.

“Claire, I want — ”

“John, I should — ”

They both snapped their mouths shut, then began stammering apologies over one another.

“I’d…like to go first. If that’s alright,” Claire said uneasily. John nodded, and she cleared her throat, setting her coffee down again.

“What happened last night…it was unforgivable. Me, I mean,” she added quickly. “That was despicable of me. To use your love for him against you like that.”

She felt her face flush hot with shame, and John averted his eyes, a blush creeping into his own face as well.

“I’m a nurse. I know that…arousal doesn’t always mean you…want to…go further.” She swallowed against a rush of tears. “I took advantage of you. I’m…so ashamed, John. I’m so sorry.”

John put his hand up. “It’s alright, Claire.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“If I’d wanted to stop you I could have.”

She stiffened in shock, her hooded eyes widening for a moment.

“I feel I took advantage of you as well, my dear. You were…quite insistent. But I should have stopped you.”

“John — ”

“So I am sorry. Truly and deeply.” His voice sounded pained, and he looked like he was about to cry.

She knew deep down she did not deserve to be apologized to, but to spare him any further pain, she acquiesced. “It’s alright.”

“I used your body for comfort just as much as you used mine. I admit it makes…far less sense to me than it must for you…but use you I did.”

Claire nodded. “I agree. We…used one another. In a way we shouldn’t have.”

John nodded as well. “I think we should…make an agreement while neither of us are inebriated. Something that we can refer to when one or both of us is in too much pain to stop ourselves.”

“I agree.” Claire straightened and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I have to say this to a homosexual housemate…” Claire tried her hand at humor, and immediately regretted it before continuing. “But I don’t think we should have any more sex. At all.”

“Agreed. And we must not…” He cleared his throat and sniffled. “We must not use Jamie to hurt one another.”

“Never again,” Claire vowed solemnly, reaching across the table and taking his hand. “I promise.”

“I promise, too.”

They gave each other’s hands a squeeze, but were both reluctant to let go.

“What happened…was not right. I shall probably feel guilty until the end of time,” Claire said. “But I think it was just…something we needed to get out of our systems.” John nodded in agreement. “And I think we can move past this, together,” Claire continued. “For Jamie’s sake.”

He nodded again, and gave her hand another squeeze. “And for the baby.”

Claire’s stomach flipped, and her free hand automatically came to rest on her abdomen. “Yes,” she said, and then swallowed thickly. “For the baby.”

He gave her hand one final squeeze before releasing her and standing up. She quickly swiped at the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

“I’m going to make some porridge, it may help with your headache.”

“I’d like that, thank you.”

——

They began a careful dance, a dance with no choreographed steps, but rather an improvised routine that they both fell into. Sidestepping where they needed, pushing and pulling to avoid stepping on each other’s toes in every sense of the word. At first, they stayed as far away from each other as possible in bed, to the point where Claire thought they would both tumble off if one of them so much as sneezed. She’d even considered pawning off the double bed and using the money to buy twin beds. Maybe then she’d be less tempted to ravage him in grief again.

But then, one night, she woke in the night to use the loo, as she’d started doing about a million times per night to empty her pregnant bladder. When she returned, she heard quiet sniffles and small whimpers.

The poor, dear man was weeping.

She crept back under the covers and faced him, his back turned to her. She couldn't tell if he was awake or not, so she reached out and touched his shoulder.

“John?”

He froze. He was awake then.

“Are you alright, darling?”

He continued sniffling, but the little sobs ceased.

“You can talk to me. It’s…what I’m here for. As your wife.”

Claire knew that her time to be married to the love of her life had come and gone. Love as fierce as her and Jamie’s was not meant to last for a whole lifetime, and she was lucky enough to have experienced it at all. Her time had come now to be something else for someone new. Though their marriage was devoid of carnal love and pleasure, she could not deny the growing tenderness for this sweet, thoughtful man.

She whispered his name again and gave his shoulder a light squeeze, and he finally turned to face her. In the glowing moonlight, she could see the tear tracks, the redness of his swollen eyes. Her hand fell on the pillow next to his face, and she waited.

“I…I dreamt of him.”

Claire swore she heard her heart break.

“It was…very real. And when I woke it was like…”

“Like losing him all over again,” Claire whispered hoarsely, understanding immediately. She’d had many a similar dream.

John nodded, blinking back another rush of tears.

“I wasn’t even…we weren’t even…”

Claire nodded; he didn’t have to elaborate.

“He was with you,” John said. “And I didn't even care. Seeing him smile at you was the greatest joy my heart has ever known. I didn’t even care if that…that look was never meant to be mine. I just…wanted him to be happy.”

Claire let out a tiny sob that seemed to echo until she realized it was John breaking down again.

“I wanted to see him grow old and have children…he wanted to so badly…”

Claire fiercely pulled herself right up against him, cradling his head at her breast and weeping into his hair as he clung desperately to her nightgown.

That was the first night Claire was grateful she shared a bed with someone; sharing a bed meaning something different than she’d ever imagined it could. She’d mused recently that to sleep, actually sleep with someone gave a sense of intimacy, as though her dreams could flow out of her to mingle with his and fold them both in a blanket of unconscious knowing. It was an act of trust to sleep in the presence of another person. If the trust was mutual, simple sleep could bring people closer together than the joining of bodies. She could somehow feel this with John, that just allowing her body to fall away into unconsciousness as he did the same, that building that mutual trust between them in this new way was bringing them closer. Especially since their particular joining of bodies had been the farthest thing from bringing them closer.

Some nights she woke to his weeping, or he to hers. They’d grown accustomed to just reaching for the other’s hand, and they would fall back asleep with several inches between their bodies and their hands clasped between them.

It was a comfort that Claire was quickly growing to depend on.

About a week after they'd been married, John took a job as an architect, the career path he'd been preparing for before the war. While he was gone, Claire taught herself to cook, failing miserably more often than not and serving her husband failed dish after failed dish. She went on walks, she read, she picked herbs and flowers in the park, she tended to a small pot of herbs that John had surprised her with in the window of the kitchen one day. She was a terrible cook, but at least her garlic, chamomile, and peppermint were thriving.

The peppermint quite came in handy when the morning sickness started in earnest. John was quite darling about the whole ordeal, never entering the bathroom until he could audibly tell that she’d stopped retching, but he was already prepared with a hot rag and a glass of water, peppermint tea brewing and nearly ready for her consumption.

It wasn’t right away that Claire began missing him during the day, not right away at all. In the beginning she’d enjoyed the alone time with her plants and any strays she decided to pluck from the side of the road or the middle of a field. She enjoyed the time alone to scream into a pillow and weep until her heart could no longer stand it. She enjoyed the time where she held onto Jamie’s old rosary and talked to him like he could hear her.

But the more weeks that passed, the more Claire realized that she’d grown fond enough of John’s presence to feel his absence when he was gone.

It wasn’t that she was never fond of him to begin with. The times she’d visited Jamie during the war and had drinks with John and laughed with him were truly wonderful. She’d always admired his intelligence, his wit, always respected him and appreciated everything he’d done for the man she loved.

But things had somehow changed in that she was truly beginning to see him as a companion. She was truly starting to feel lonely in the hours that he worked, truly starting to look forward to his return home like she supposed a wife should for her husband.

Claire had always sworn that she would not leave her entire life’s purpose to being a wife, even a wife to Jamie. She’d shared her far-off dream of medical school with Jamie, and he’d kissed her with joy for her eventual success; the memory caused deep pangs of sadness in her chest. So for her to find meaning in looking forward to her husband coming home, however amicable a companion he was, could have felt like a betrayal to her very character.

It didn’t, though.

It was an odd comfort, relying on John, and she supposed he felt the same. They read by the fire in their respective armchairs at night, John occasionally remarking on a particular passage to her. In the beginning, she’d only hum in amusement in response, but as more time went on, she allowed it to open discussion, and she’d even started doing it with her own books, engaging him like that.

After reading, they’d strip themselves of their guises of husband and wife. The only visible remnants of their marriage were shared smiles over books or meals (or lack thereof) or flowerpots. Without those, they were just John and Claire, frightened and lonely as they’d always been, hands entwined under the covers in the wide gap between them.

He actually brought home flowers on occasion, on two or three random days throughout the month. Claire found it incredibly endearing. He strode into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes for supper one night as Claire arranged bluebells in a vase, and she allowed perhaps the first genuine smile in months.

He’s trying, God love him.

Claire kissed him on the cheek as she put his plate in front of him that night at supper, and he kissed hers in bed before rolling away and reinstating the gap between them.

Always touching hands.

——

Before she knew it, Claire’s clothing wasn’t fitting anymore, her stomach finally showing true evidence of the life it grew after months of hiding.

And then she felt it, like a bubbly champagne stuck in her chest, like the flutter of butterflies.

Hello, little one.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Claire said that night over supper. She’d managed a fine beef stew that night, impressing both John and herself. “I don’t want to have the baby in the hospital.”

John comically appeared to choke on his stew. “Beg pardon?”

“Women do do it. Home births, I mean. I had a friend in the army who delivered babies at people’s homes.”

“Isn’t it…” He swallowed a lump of soft carrots. “Painful?”

Claire chuckled. “Well, certainly. But I’d…rather be awake. I can’t stand what they’re doing these days, putting the mothers under with God knows what. I wouldn’t be able to stand it, not knowing what was happening to me for the entire birth. If something were to happen, I would want to be awake.”

“But what if something were to happen?” John said, laying down his spoon.

“If something truly dire were to happen, the hospital isn’t far.”

“God, Claire! What if you died on the way there?”

“Please.” Claire rolled her eyes. “If I was at high risk, I’d go to the hospital from the beginning. Alright? But I truly think everything will be alright. I’d like to have a midwife start coming to make sure of that.”

“What about your friend?”

“Oh, she lives in Glasgow.”

He took up his spoon again, then got a gleam in his eye. “What if I could put her up here, in London?”

Claire put down her own spoon, the corners of her mouth twitching into a grin. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he said, as if it were the most simple matter in the world. “I can see you’re not to be argued with on this matter, and I’d rather have the woman in charge of your health and the health of our child be someone you already trust. She’s capable?”

Claire’s mind had momentarily gone blank at his casual utterance.

Our child.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

Claire jolted a bit, shaking her head. “Yes, yes, just a small dizzy spell…” She cleared her throat. “Geillis is quite capable, I assure you. You won’t find someone more so. And it’s as I said: if she thinks it unsafe for me to not have medical intervention, then I will not argue. I promise.”

John nodded curtly, smiling widely. “Then it’s settled. Phone her tomorrow, won’t you?”

Claire took up her spoon again. “I will.”

Our child.

“What’s brought all this on?” John said, spooning more stew into his mouth.

Claire smiled wistfully, her hand resting on the tiny bump. “I felt him today.”

He almost choked again.

“You did?”

“Yes. It’s…too tiny to feel from the outside, otherwise I’d have shown you already. But he’s…he’s fluttering around in there.” She smiled down at her stomach. “It’s…wonderful.”

“That is…wonderful news, my dear,” John said, his eyes bright with joy. “I’m glad of it.”

Claire allowed a few moments of amicable silence to pass between them, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Did you…mean it when you said…our child?”

For the third time in one meal, Claire thought she had caused her husband to choke.

“God, Claire, I’m…I’m so, very sorry. I didn’t mean…I couldn’t ever…”

“It’s alright,” Claire interrupted gently. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s Jamie’s child. I know that.”

“I know. And I know you know that.” She held his gaze, and she could tell he very much wanted to melt into the floor with shame. “I can’t lie and say it didn’t catch me off guard. Because it did. But it’s…not a bad thing.”

She drew in a long, tremulous breath before continuing.

“Jamie is gone. The father of my child is dead.” Her voice only broke on the last word, and she sardonically congratulated herself in her head. “You are…for all intents and purposes…this baby’s father. And I…I want it to be that way. For the baby. It’s…what Jamie would want.”

John nodded, eyes watering.

“So it’s…it’s alright for you to call him…ours. Because he is.” She covered the small bump with both of her hands, cradling it as if her little child could feel it. “That was just…the first time you’ve said that instead of just ‘the baby.’ So I wanted to be sure you meant it. Or if it was just a slip.”

He looked at her thoughtfully, and she could swear she saw his pupils dilate. “I did mean it, my dear. I wouldn’t say something with that much weight so carelessly.”

Claire nodded, offering him a tight-lipped smile. “Good.”

Their spoons clattered in the thick silence between them.

“Him?” John suddenly said.

“Hm?” Claire looked up at him.

“You keep saying ‘him.’ That sure it’s a boy?”

Claire smiled and chuckled through her nose. “I just…have a feeling, that’s all. A feeling that I’m carrying my little Brian James.”

She could practically see his heart swelling, inflating his chest and causing him to sit up straighter. “For Jamie’s father.”

“That’s right. And for his father as well.”

“It’s…perfect, Claire.” He nodded in confirmation, his eyes wide with something that Claire could only describe as adoration. “Perfect for our son.”

——

John put Geillis up in a flat a few blocks away so that they could walk back and forth to each other with relative ease. Geillis determined that the baby was in excellent shape, and that Claire was a great candidate for a natural birth. Geillis was a bit flighty and slightly mysterious, but that was what Claire had loved about her when they met. She was very reliant on herbs and incense. Claire could tell that her witchy tendencies unnerved John quite a bit, and it often made her giggle to see him uncomfortable in her presence. He didn’t say anything, though, out of respect for Claire’s love for the woman.

Geillis was slightly better in the kitchen than Claire was, so she’d been sharing recipes (much to John’s chagrin; he didn’t trust that there wasn’t something supernatural in anything she fed them). They baked together in either of their flats when John was at work, went on walks together, enjoyed each other’s company. It was refreshing to have female company, and wonderful to have someone to spend time with when she would have otherwise been counting down the minutes until John’s return from work.

Two months after Geillis’s arrival as midwife and friend, Claire was nearly six months pregnant. She was starting to feel exhausted more often than not. She napped quite often, even in Geillis’s flat. Her feet and ankles were constantly sore and swollen, and John had taken to rubbing them for her, having asked her how to do it most to her liking. It was terribly endearing to her.

Claire left Geillis’s flat earlier than usual on one particular day, not wanting to fall dead asleep on her sofa again. She stopped for a few groceries on the way home, not sure if she had enough to prepare the recipe she’d decided on for the night. When she arrived home, she was pleasantly surprised to see John’s shoes and coat by the front door. She didn’t see him in the living room or in the kitchen when she put the brown paper bag down on the counter, so she shuffled into the bedroom to make sure he wasn’t home early because he was ill.

“John, darling, is everything — ”

Claire’s throat went dry and her eyes popped out of her head when she took in the sight on the bed. John was stark naked, cock in his fist, jerking his hips into his hand. He froze immediately at the sound of her voice, covering himself with both hands.

“Oh.” Her cheeks turned pink as she averted her eyes staring at a leaf fluttering by the window. “I’m…I’m sorry…” she stammered. “I saw your coat, and I thought…I’m sorry.”

“I’m…ashamed. Forgive me. I didn’t know you’d be home.”

“No, no. Please don’t be,” Claire said quickly. “It’s…perfectly natural.”

Claire had been very clear with John before they married that she would be perfectly alright with him taking male lovers. She knew she could never provide what he really needed, and she knew this marriage was not for love. He’d thanked her and said he would keep it in mind.

It would appear there hadn’t been any forward momentum on that front.

Claire had no conceivable idea why she was still standing in the doorway staring at the window. “I’ll ehm, just…” She cleared her throat and started to shuffle away, but then stopped herself. “Do you…” she began, only half turning to him. “Want help?”

She looked shyly at him, pointedly only looking at his face. He was beet red with embarrassment, and now looked terribly scandalized.

“The…agreement?” he said, his brow raised in questioning.

“I know. But we’re both sober at the moment, and it wouldn’t really be sex. I…I wouldn’t mind.” She flicked her eyes away from him and wet her lips. “But only if it’ll help. I know I’m not…you know.”

She saw him nod from the corner of her eye. “You, ehm, needn’t trouble yourself.”

“Alright. That’s alright.” Claire nodded curtly and then saw herself out of the bedroom, scuttling back into the kitchen to unpack her groceries.

She did not expect the strange thrill that coursed through her when she heard her name.

Her breathing went ragged as she put down a cabbage on the counter and walked slowly back to the bedroom.

“Did you…call me?” she asked timidly through the crack in the door.

“Yes…you can come in.”

She slowly pushed the door open, taking deep, trembling breaths.

“I’d…like your help. If you don’t mind.”

She blinked back her shock and swallowed against a sandpaper throat before taking slow, even steps across the room and sitting down before him.

He was not as well endowed as Jamie, but it was sizable nonetheless, and had still felt good in that drunken stupor all those months ago. She met his eye and cautiously brought her hand forward. He gave a small groan when her hand wrapped around the base of him. He was burning to the touch, and it fascinated her. She maintained eye contact as she slowly began pumping him, up and down, and he groaned again.

“Is this alright?” she whispered, rolling her thumb over the tip.

“Yes,” he choked out. “Quite…alright.”

Claire smirked and began pumping faster, but not maddeningly so. Not yet.

She had half a mind to ask him what he’d been thinking of before she’d interrupted, but she didn’t need to. She knew.

And she knew how painfully terrible it was to long for the ghost of someone’s touch.

So she didn’t pry, she just worked her hands as expertly as she knew how, until he was panting heavily and jerking his hips up toward her hand. Only then did she double down on the speed, her forearm burning with the effort. He came with a strangled cry, shooting his seed upward, landing on his stomach.

She slowed her hand until she felt him go soft, and then she rested her hand on his thigh, smiling shyly at him. He was laying back, staring at the ceiling as he caught his breath. Claire got up and returned from the bathroom with a towel, and by that time he had seemingly regained his senses.

“Thank you,” he said warmly as he took the towel in his hands, but Claire felt that he was perhaps thanking her for more than just the towel.

“It’s alright, isn’t it?” she said nervously, sitting down. “You don’t feel as if we’ve broken the agreement?”

“No, not at all.” He got up and dressed himself again, though he remained shirtless when he turned back to her. “You were just…helping me finish a job I’d already started.”

Claire nodded, smiling self-consciously, her cheeks blushing fiercely. “Right.”

“You don’t have to blush, my dear.” He closed the distance between them and sweetly kissed her forehead. “You’re my wife after all.”

She nodded again, painfully aware of the heat that had gathered in her stomach and farther down.

“You’re quite warm,” he said, ghosting his fingertips over the apple of her cheeks. “Is it…because…?”

She nodded.

“Ah.” He sat down next to her. “I’m afraid I…wouldn’t be much help. Your knowledge of male pleasure far exceeds that of mine concerning female pleasure.”

“It’s alright,” Claire said gently, covering his hand with hers. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

He smiled gratefully at her, holding her gaze warmly.

Claire had no idea what prompted her to blurt: “You could watch me.”

His mouth popped open a bit, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

“Women can do it themselves too, you know.” She smirked, though she was still blushing fiercely. “I wouldn’t mind if you watched. It may…help.”

He swallowed again, drawing his hand away from hers.

“But you don’t want me to…”

“You don’t have to.” She pushed herself higher up onto the bed and unbuttoned her dress, then slid it over her head. She wasn’t sure how John would feel if she got completely naked, so she left her slip on. She reached under it to remove her underwear.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” she said, a warning. Before she really began.

“I…I do. Want to.”

She smiled at him and set her underwear aside, away from him. She let her legs fall apart and ghosted her fingers over the slick, wet folds.

“When a woman is aroused…” she said breathily, taking a stuttering breath as her fingers reached the source of her moisture. “Instead of a cockstand, she gets…wet.”

She withdrew her hand to show him, and he stared at the glistening wetness on her fingers with vulgar curiosity.

Smiling devilishly, she returned to her task, gathering more moisture and setting to work on her clitoris. 

“I…aroused you?”

John’s voice brought her out of a haze of pleasure, and she met his gaze with hooded eyelids.

She heard what he left unsaid:

I did…not Jamie?

“You did, John,” she breathed out. “It makes me feel…very good to give a man pleasure.”

It was the truth, really. Jamie was, of course, the subject of her every thought, her every fantasy. In her moments alone, when Geillis was not around, it was thoughts of Jamie’s hands, Jamie’s tongue, Jamie’s cock that roused her to the point of no return. And it was those thoughts that had her weeping in grief after she’d climaxed. But this was different. For the first time, she wasn’t aroused by a fantasy, but rather by the sight of a real man coming right in front of her. By her hand. Did she think of her love in that same position? God, of course. Was she imagining his touch? Certainly. But seeing John, sweet, gentle John, in the throes of pleasure had flipped a switch in her fevered mind.

It was different.

John swallowed hard again in response to her words, and she redoubled her efforts on herself. She did not hold back, allowing her eyes to fall shut and for her desperate keening to get as loud as it would naturally get without restraint. She laid back, neck arching as she moaned loudly with ecstasy.

She picked her head back up when she felt she was close, and made deliberate eye contact with John as she slipped a finger in, still keeping her maddening pace on her clitoris. John’s lips parted and he swallowed again, and with the insertion of a second finger, curling them in and upwards, Claire let out a ragged gasp. Her hips jerked off the mattress, thrusting into nothingness as she continued her rapid assault of her clitoris, her fingers frozen inside her as her walls clenched around them. She let out a sweet sounding moan as her hand finally slowed, and she gradually lowered back onto the mattress, her head swimming and her back slick with sweat.

She kept her eyes closed as she came down from her high, her chest heaving. When she opened her eyes, John was still staring at her, his mouth hanging open. She was still breathing heavily, and she smiled up at him shyly.

“Do you, ehm…” He cleared his throat. “Do you feel better now?”

She nodded lazily, feeling her eyes slide shut again.

“I can finish with your groceries. You seem tired.”

She nodded, eyes still closed, and curled into the pillow, draping her arm over it lazily. She felt like an infant, drugged with sleep after breastfeeding, having satiated herself.

Consciousness was just beginning to slip away from her when she felt a blanket drape over her shoulders, and a gentle peck on her temple.

“Sleep well, my dear.”

[thisdreamplace]

Hey! I just wanted to get this off my mind and ask for your advice. You said we could talk to you about things so here I am :)

For the past year, I’ve been struggling. I refused to admit that because I feel like I still have a lot of good things in my life, roof over my head, family that loves me, not a lot of money but enough for food and an occasional treat, friends that are willing to help me if I need them, etc. Yet, compared to where I was mentally & physically in 2019, the past year was kinda crappy. I’ve just not been feeling my best.

I started meditating after reading your answers for months, and it really brought up a stir of emotions these past three weeks. In the past year, I lost my maid of honour type best friend (ghosted me then I left her on read cause she replies to my texts with ‘haha’ or ‘yeah’ - no effort), my work is kinda there and kinda not (not stable), moving back home meant I lost my freedom to go out and just have fun or be alone, and frankly, I’ve lost my confidence and charm. Although I’ve never dated anyone, I knew I could have anyone I like and people find me pretty. I don’t anymore now and continue to put on weight. I started crushing on a person who’s kinda like a celebrity and started thinking how I’m not good enough, etc when the thought of manifesting them popped into my head. I’ve applied to a shit ton of jobs and when I’m not called back, I get sad, when I am, I feel nervous because I fucking hate the working style here (12 hours a day, 5-6 days a week is pretty normal). The pay is decent but I prefer freedom, even though I don’t know what exactly it is I want anymore. I’ve lost interest in my dreams. My family tells me it’s just how it is, all jobs are hard and I should just stuck it up especially since I’m young, but I want more out of life. I want to be paid generously while still having a life and loving my job. I want my ex best friend to apologise and reconnect with me. I want my precious housemates to start texting me back. I want a parter that’s amazing and to be loved and spoiled. I want my confidence back. I want to feel free and like myself again. I’ve been trying to work through things since last July, after switching from LOA to Neville and I know I’m not doing it right since results should have shown up already, in the 3D. I just feel like I’m in reverse. There were a list of things I wanted but now I just want things I had in 2019 (then the other things I wanted change too). I can have both, but I’ve really been out of it. I feel guilty for feeling this way, too, because I do have some things okay, but I would be lying if I said I haven’t been sick and tired and just timid and grumpy. Thank you for reading! ❤️ Hope you’re doing well and thank you for your blog 🖤

Hey!! You absolutely can always send messages like this. The law of assumption crowd tends to be tough, and for good reason. It’s true we fall back into the old story and the victim mentality and it shouldn’t be tolerated. But in my opinion, sometimes just being able to get it off your chest and out there works fucking wonders. If we are Gods having a human experience, maybe we shouldn’t have to feel so pressured to not feel a type of way. In that way, we give ourselves true unconditional love. So, always feel free to write to me like this.

Anyways, you are not alone in this. 💖 I would like you to understand that. You are not the only one struggling in this way, as you can see from my blog. And I am in the same boat some days. I know what it’s like, to have been at this for months and nothing drastic has happened. At some point, manifesting a text from someone and a free meal here or there just doesn’t cut it. And it can be frustrating because the pros simply respond like, “well you aren’t truly living in the end.” Clearly. lmao But sometimes it’s like you’ve hit a wall you cannot get through. Especially looking at the past, it can be so hurtful. When you found out about Neville, you felt like you had the world on a string. Finally, the puzzle pieces of life were coming together and you were ready to live the life of your dreams. Then months passed and you start looking at the past and begin to romanticize it. Because you have been at it for months and nothing it seeming to happen. But then you remember a time where you didn’t even know about the law and it was a better time in life.

Well here’s the truth. Neville even said himself physical labor, like working in a field all day from sun up to sun down, is easier than the mental labor of applying the law. He sure as hell didn’t lie. This is why we are on a journey. I especially feel it’s so true for people who come to my blog. Because there are plenty of law of attraction/law of assumption blogs that act like manifesting is simply affirming and getting what you want. But on my blog and blogs similiar to mine, I think many of us realize that this is one helluva journey. And it’s up to us to decide if it’s worth taking.

People say you can decide when your manifestation happens, people say all this type of stuff and you persist and your 3D appears so stagnant anyway. I can tell you that I have read quite a few success stories where people’s lives were stagnant for months. And then suddenly... everything started rolling in. Suddenly, their lives started to change in the most perfect way ever. And I would like to think this is true for you, and me, and everyone else reading this blog. That through some kind of persistance, despite the tears and days we just can’t take it anymore, that day will come where suddenly everything turns around. Suddenly, it all feels worth it. In that moment we will know why we could never give up on ourselves. Neville said everything has it’s appointed hour. As nice as it is to think we can have whatever we want as soon as we do XYZ, I think sometimes just believing it will come when it’s time is good enough. Knowing you can cause something to come slower/quicker can just cause so much anxiety sometimes. Maybe it’s not so bad to stop constantly feeling the need to be in control.

So all in all, feel what you need to feel. The good news is, you are God despite all of these uncomfortable feelings and thoughts you are dealing with. Somewhere deep in you, beneath the illusion lf all your fears and doubts, is the God within. The unconditional love that is always there for you to turn to. Even when it all feels so heavy it is there. Know that whatever it is you’re facing it is okay. Let it all come up, let yourself release it. Allow it to be, allow yourself to simply be. You do not always have to try or be doing something. You are simply enough right now, you are absolutely perfect for the things you want right now in this moment. Perhaps in meditation, allow yourself that space. Let those painful things surface, but under it all remind yourself this is all an illusion. You are complete and true love. The more you tap into that, the more the truth of pure love (your desires), will be revealed to you in the outer world. It’s just something simple you can do, that takes less effort in moments where it’s all so heavy. And it’s what I always try to do, so I recommend it.

I hope this was helpful. My life is like a lil rollercoaster lately, but in everyday something wonderful happens. And that is what I try to remember by each night. I am glad my blog has been so helpful to you. 💖

[bondsmagii]

Lol I'm freaking out help :') So for preface, I live in a suite in a dorm at school. My bf, Markus, was dead asleep in the other room. He's not the type to fuck with me like this either. So last night I felt super sick and then at some point I kept having dreams varying in how vivid they were, but that Markus was trying to wake me up. (1/2?)

One was even so vivid that I honest to God thought I woke up and he didn't have his glasses on and I could count the freckles on his nose because he was right in front of my face (I don't usually remember faces at all in my dreams so that was weird enough). Then I woke up today and all the food we bought yesterday (fruit and apple cider with an expiration date in December) in my fridge was expired. So anyways, I called my mother at home to make sure nothing bad happened but it's so weird? Also, this morning the bf tasted all the food with me and it was definitely sour/bad and idk this isn't the first time weird shit like this has happened to me, but it is the first time it's not in my room at home and it's very unsettling You're the expert in all things creepy, does it sound paranormal or whatever to you?

this is honestly so weird. obviously make sure that there are no contaminants in the dorm that could have caused hallucinations or anything, and naturally make sure nobody is tampering with your food as a stupid prank or out of malice (had some shitty housemates during my time in college and frequently soured my own milk when I knew they would be stealing it lmao) but if it’s not that, hmm.

the only time I’ve ever had anything like this before (and it was exactly like this -- the realistic dreams/vivid nightmares, and fresh food going bad) was when I lived in this super haunted house back in Ireland. this was the house that had a proper demonic haunting; it was the most malicious entity I’ve ever come across, and its hallmark was souring food. I’ve never seen any other kind of entity do that before. it was every day, too. we would get milk in fresh, and within an hour (sometimes even still unopened) it would have soured to the extent it had separated or become chunky. only putting salt around the fridge/scattering it on the shelves saved everything from going inexplicably bad.

I’m not saying this is definitely what it is and that it’s as bad as what I experienced, but I am saying if nothing else comes up it could be paranormal. the thing with dorms is it’s difficult to tell -- usually with demonic hauntings (or other strong hauntings) there’s some sign in the leadup. these things don’t just start with no warning. but with dorms, where so many people are coming and going and there’s lots of different energies to consider, it’s much harder to tell. it’s especially difficult when you consider many people don’t stay in a dorm more than a year, so if the haunting is cyclical all the lead-up could be missed (for example, if the building up happens during the summer when nobody is staying there, it could be full-throttle by the time people are around enough to notice). I’d say definitely keep an eye out for any other unusual occurrences, and if it seems to be a consistent thing don’t be afraid to get liberal with the salt.

[sugarhillpark]

2020 In Review

Tagged by @pyrchance Thank you and apologies I took my sweet time thinking about it. ❤️

Fics (finished and WIP!) written this year: 

I’m not gonna do links or word counts as I haven’t published most of these and they’re all WIPS. Just for the same reason I haven’t posted any of most of them: I don’t wanna get disheartened worrying about people waiting for updates or comparing myself to all these insanely productive amazing writers who have inspired me this year, which is a bad habit I’ve picked up lately. But I am gonna catalogue again.

Walls – Ryden post-split closure angst fic

Molly Ringwald’s Evil Dead Haunted House – Rikey and side Frerard vaguely-haunted-house-story AU getting together and first time fic

Be My Baby – Frerard first time PWP side fic to Molly Ringwald’s Evil Dead Haunted House set on the same night

Creatures of the Night – Rikey and side Frerard feat. ‘Ray fucking all of them because he’s accommodating’ housemates/supernatural creatures AU, in which Gerard and Frank start acting strange as a blood moon approaches near Christmas time and Ray discovers that Gerard is an incubus, that Frank is a vampire, that apparently blood moons make them ridiculously turned on, and that maybe he’s sad that Mikey doesn’t appear to be affected.

You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Nevada – Frerard and Rikey with various bandom side pairings Nevada brothel AU, in which Gerard and Mikey live and work on Z Berg and Patrick Stump’s Scorpion Ranch brothel, and Frank and Ray are customers who start to complicate their emotional landscapes.

You Really Ought To Know - Frerard and Rikey feat. almost all of them fucking Killjoys AU, in which the Ways take off to try to carry out a wild plan of Gerard’s without telling anyone and a devastated Frank and Ray take comfort in each other. When Gerard and Mikey arrive back after five weeks, they wrestle with the withdrawal of the intimacy and affection they took for granted. A ‘fucking in various configurations as an unhealthy coping mechanism’ wonderland.

Untitled Frerard Android fic – I feel like I’ll be able to explain the parts of this I’ve written a lot better once I have any idea what to name it.

Takeaways from reflecting on your kick-ass writing, or kick-ass lack of writing, during a year more focused on survival than perhaps any other:

This has been a motherfucking hard year to write. I’m a slow writer at the best of times and mid 2019-present has involved the worst exacerbation of my chronic condition in my life. It’s been incredibly frustrating to want to write and be crippled by constant pain, regular nausea and many entire days of lack of ability to even physically tolerate the amount of LIGHT required to write without puking, along with all the mental health garbage of 2020. I’ve also done the dumb thing of looking at amazing new people I’ve encountered in fandom and comparing their productivity to mine and beating myself up about it, which would’ve been a dick move @ myself even if I wasn’t sick.

On the plus side, I’ve gotten into a new fandom (MyChem) which has been massively inspiring and given me so much to play around with, and I’ve persevered to the best of my ability which I think is pretty awesome. I’ve also met a person who is pretty much my other half in fanfic land (muse, collaborator, internet-girlfriend-who-i-share-the-same-brain-with etc.) and I hadn’t realised how much I missed and wanted the collaborative aspect of how fanfic is inspired and consumed, whether it’s with you and one person or anything else. Love having that back.

Most surprising fic you wrote this year:

Probably Molly Ringwald’s Evil Dead Haunted House + Be My Baby or Creatures of the Night because they’re so fucking light and sweet (uh, except for the background horror themes part) compared to my usual angst-wallowing MyChem headcanons. That or You Really Ought To Know with how filthy and power-dynamic-laden-y a lot of the sex is. I kind of decided to not have any particular barriers with exploring sex and intimacy in shitty circumstances with that one, which has so far been nerve-wracking but also fun.

Best thing that happened this year because you write fic:

Tiny. 💕 It’s amazing that we’ve only been in each other’s lives for a year and because of a comment exchange on a fic because genuinely fuck knows what I did without you.

How you grew as a writer this year:

I tried a variety of new things and moved away from thinking about what I felt I should write into asking myself what I wanted to write and attempting to do that instead.

If someone’s going to read just one of your 2020 fics, which one should they read?

Probably Walls because I’ve been wanting to write it for the longest and I love it the most of all my babies. Also parts of it are actually posted, so there’s that.

What’s coming in 2021:

A lot more of all these freaking WIPS getting posted and finished, hopefully. Possibly one day even not being too ill and afraid of deadlines to participate in one of the fic challenges or exchanges because I’d love that. But baby steps.

I tag: @theyellowgrassgrows and anyone who wants to fill it out, especially if any of my followers are fanfic writers and I don’t know you write!

[jaqdawks]

added a short story bellow :)

content warnings: alcohol and implied nsfw acts, also mention of death.

—————————————

Nickolai awoke in someone else’s bed with a splitting hangover. He sat up and looked around the unfamiliar room. He checked if it was possibly Alcor’s, until he realized he didn’t know what Alcor’s bedroom looked like at all. He also didn’t know what most of Alcor’s flat looked like; he’d only ever been as far in as a single hallway.

For a few minutes, Nickolai fought the hangover to remember who he was with and what identity he’d assumed. All he could remember was Noah. He had a fake ID that said Noah, and his false identity as a Noah was a man who fixed computers. Noah was a common name though, and he couldn’t remember who the Noah here was.

He didn’t think about it much longer before he succumbed to the hangover and flopped back onto the bed—which Nickolai was alone in. The disturbed sheets on the spot next to him hinted to someone else having been in it earlier.

The door began to creak open, and Nickolai shut his eyes.

“Hey, it’s almost noon. I don’t want to be rude but you need to wake up,” sounded an unfamiliar voice.

Nickolai grumbled a little. He looked at the stranger, who had soft green eyes and curly red hair. He didn’t look untrustworthy, to Nickolai’s relief. Then again, Nickolai didn’t look untrustworthy either on a normal day.

“I have Advil if you need something for a hangover,” the stranger offered.

Nickolai sat up again, for real now. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

The stranger laughed. “I’m Joel. Were you too hammered to remember my name?”

Nickolai shook his head.

The stranger seemed concerned. “How much do you remember then?”

“I don’t know, I remember thinking I should get mad drunk in public instead of passing out on my couch. After that it’s just fuzzy.” Nickolai assumed he told Joel that his name was Noah.

Joel looked a little perturbed in an endearing way. “Ah, well, do you want me to fill the gaps or. . ?”

“Can I get some Advil first?”

“Yeah. I’ll go get some water for you to swallow it with,” Joel complied. “You should get dressed.”

Nickolai waited for Joel to leave before getting out of bed and tracking down all his clothes, which were strewn about the room. His shirt smelled like liquor to the point that Nickolai thought he might gag. However, he didn’t have any spare clothes and decided to just put up with it.

Joel was back a few minutes after Nickolai got dressed. It was clear he was trying to ignore the smell, but after Nickolai took the Advil, Joel asked if he needed to borrow something that didn’t smell so rancid. Nickolai obliged and was relieved to be able to rid the putrid button-down.

“Okay, so the parts you don’t remember,” Joel began. “I can’t say I remember it too well either, but I think I have a decent memory with these things.”

Nickolai nodded. “Go on.”

“So,” Joel continued. “It began when I think I saw the bartender cut you off on drinks, and I felt kind of bad about that. So I thought, hey, company’s much better than drinks, even though I was also drinking, like a lot. And I guess at some point we kinda started flirting, and I was like ‘should we take this back to your place?’ and you began to freak out. I think you said you have a dog that bites people or something? Is that true?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Well anyways, you did not seem to be very happy with the idea of taking anyone to your place, so I took you to mine. And you can probably guess the rest, considering you woke up naked in my bed.”

Nickolai silently acknowledged the implications in his head. This wasn’t how he planned to start his weekend, but he could roll with it. “Yeah. Sorry for sleeping until noon, by the way. I’m not at all a morning person.”

Joel smiled with amusement. “How do you pull that off? I can’t even sleep past nine on a good day.”

“Sadness.”

Joel’s face went blank with a bit of underlying surprise at Nickolai’s off hand answer. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, no harm no foul.” Nickolai was vehemently aware that he may have used that saying incorrectly.

Joel veered the conversation away from the topic. “How does your head feel?”

“A little better.”

Joel was oddly kind. Nickolai wasn’t used to receiving this hospitality from strangers like him, but that probably had more to do with who Nickolai associated himself with and not people in general. Nickolai decided he liked Joel, even if he barely knew him.

“I would offer you some breakfast, but. . . it’s almost one in the afternoon. You’re probably hungry though, right?”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” Nickolai attempted to smile back at Joel but he was too tired to count off what would make it look genuine. Regardless, Joel didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m gonna do it anyway,” Joel decided. “Any allergies?”

“Strawberries.”

“Oh! That’s a rare one.”

Nickolai shrugged. “I seem to cash in on the rare things a lot. Albinism, an extra rib, and the strawberry allergy.”

“Casinos must hate you if you’re that lucky.”

Nickolai let out a genuine laugh. He decided he definitely liked Joel. He also felt a tinge of astonishment that someone like Joel casually hooked up with him, or generally anyone. He seemed like too much of an angel to even drink.

Nickolai followed Joel out of his room. Joel’s place was considerably nice, to the point Nickolai was in a bit of disbelief. He couldn’t have wound up in an upper class area if he had started last night at a shoddy bar, right? Joel didn’t act like he was rich, he didn’t seem like it either. But this place completely contrasted whatever Joel was like. Even Joel’s cat, a rather well groomed Norwegian forest cat—which was massive and somewhat intimidating—seemed to completely outclass Nickolai.

“Do you live here by yourself?” Nickolai asked as he surveyed the expensive wallpaper lining the kitchen walls.

“Nah, I have a housemate named Anwyll. He’s visiting family right now though.”

Nickolai froze. “Anwyll. . . As in Anwyll Tait?”

“That’s the one!”

Nickolai suddenly felt sick. “Oh fuck.”

“Is something wrong?”

Nickolai retched. Had his stomach not been empty, he had no doubt he would have thrown up all over the nice counter top.

Joel dropped what he was doing and crossed the room to Nickolai. “Are you okay?” He was suddenly at Nickolai’s side with his hand placed gently on Nickolai’s back.

Nickolai’s head spun. He knew he couldn’t tell Joel that Anwyll Tait took his brother’s life in the deathmatches. If he did, Joel would have a catalogue of every possible person Nickolai could truly be, and it would clearly point to Yuskol Voskoboinikov.

Nickolai ran through every excuse he could think up. He could say he hated the rich, but that could offend Joel. He could say the deathmatches made him sick, but Joel was obviously linked to them somehow if he was in league with a Tait. Joel felt like dangerous company, a double edged sword.

“Noah?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nickolai croaked. “I think it’s just the hangover. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, so I guess I don’t have anything to throw up.”

That was the safest excuse.

Joel looked at Nickolai with pity. “Do you think you can eat right now?”

“Yeah.”

Nickolai felt somewhat content that he had definite confirmation that he had told Joel his name was Noah last night. The slight accent in his voice may throw off the authenticity in his identity as Noah Martin, but it wasn’t consistent enough to jeopardize him.

At the same time, the fact that he slept with someone of such high class alarmed him. Most public record photos of Nickolai Voskoboinikov’s face was outdated or somewhat photoshopped, but a Tait might be able to figure him out if they surveyed him for long enough.

“So, what’s your housemate like?” Nickolai asked. He tried to keep the nervousness from spreading to his voice.

“Anwyll can be such a jerk sometimes, but he’s also sorta nice. I’ve known him since I was little,” Joel said. “He doesn’t like new people that much, but I think he’d like you.”

“Dunno. I can be very unlikeable when I’m on my medication.” Nickolai knew with certainty that Anwyll would hate him no matter what. “Also I’m. . . lower class.” Nickolai also knew that Anwyll was a classist asshole.

“Lower class? That doesn’t matter,” Joel piped up. “The whole class thing is kind of stupid. I think the way it’s set up is interesting, but it won’t stop me from having friends from all kinds of walks of life.”

“I. . . yeah. I guess so,” Nickolai mumbled. He doubted Joel would be this positive if he knew of Nickolai’s illegal trades ties, the upper class notoriously hated brokers like him. They also especially hated him in particular.

Being there felt like the most dangerous stunt Nickolai had pulled, and he hadn’t even done it on purpose.

Joel set a ridiculously fancy, yet somehow definitely homemade, grilled cheese sandwich on a plate in front of him.

“Wow,” Nickolai mused. For a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. “This looks like something an expensive ass chef would make.”

“Thanks! I went to the top culinary school in the city, my parents say it was a waste of time.”

“Fuck what your parents say,” Nickolai replied before he took a bite. The sandwich tasted unreal. The last time he had food as good as this was when he posed as an intern for one of the deathmatch organizers.

“I’m glad you like it,” Joel smiled. Nickolai felt unease crawl back into his chest. Joel seemed so genuinely friendly, though a nagging suspicion told Nickolai it could be a lie. Nickolai couldn’t take a risk by being near him for much longer. At the same time, however, he felt captivated. Joel had that charisma that so many of the notorious upper class families seemed to unanimously mirror. He was a golden face among a sea of golden faces, all rotten under their skin. Nickolai knew what they were like.

Even then, Joel seemed to care a lot more than most would let on.

Nickolai took a deep breath. “I have to go home, sorry. I left my meds there, and I probably have people flooding my inbox about work and all that bullshit.”

“That’s alright. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your job?”

“I fix computers,” Nickolai lied. That was Noah’s persona, and a story that should hold up if Joel decided to try and look in to it.

To be polite, he exchanged phone numbers. Nickolai only had his burner phone on him, which was a relief. The calls and texts that flooded Nickolai’s personal phone daily would have definitely been suspicious.

Nickolai liked Joel, but he knew he wouldn’t call him. Nickolai had a hunch that Joel may not be the worst of his kind, but he knew he wouldn’t text him back. It felt harsh to shut Joel out like this, but Nickolai wasn’t going to risk identification simply because he had a good encounter. They waved goodbye, and Joel’s cheery expression was a reminder that Nickolai would have to be silently cruel.

Nickolai didn’t call for a cab, he walked until his hangover began to bother him again. Then he called Alcor—Alcor didn’t have Nickolai’s burner phone address, but he was a safer bet than any cabs in this place.

The phone rang for a while before Alcor picked up.

“Who’s this?”

Nickolai felt relief wash over him to hear a familiar voice. “It’s Nick. Can you come pick me up?”

Alcor’s words were laced with suspicion as he spoke over the phone. “. . . Sure. Where are you?”

Nickolai looked at the street sign. Of course he had to stop on Ivory Street—the richest and most notorious, and also the one Nickolai hated the most for almost no real reason. With a sigh, he said, “Ivory Street.”

“How the fuck did you get there?”

“Drunkenly and against my conscious knowing.”

“Is this going to be dangerous?”

Nickolai groaned. “Not as dangerous as standing in the house that belongs to the man who killed my brother. Now get over here, I don’t think it’d be safe to use public transport in this area.”

There was a silence on the other end, then Alcor replied, “I’m on my way.”

[homosociallyyours]

i’m being frustrated behind the cut, pls feel free to skip

ugh, so. do you ever just hate the way that you do things and recognize they’re awful and yet find yourself incapable of doing better in the moment? 

i have a thing (that i’m aware of and try to work on) where i can try to anticipate people’s needs and expect that people will anticipate mine. and it makes it harder for me to ask for help (which is already something i’m not that good at; i prefer to imagine myself as a self-sufficient power angel, doing benevolent works for everyone else AND myself, thank you very much. 

i’m not that, especially sick. 

so rationally, i should be asking very clearly for help whenever i need it and then letting anyone around me accept or reject that request. 

instead i just swallow it down and don’t say anything, and i end up frustrated. 

today i gave my dog a bath because she had fleas and my housemate came to me looking very concerned and was like, “what are we going to do about this?” which i took to mean “what are YOU going to do about this?” because they have a guest here from out of town so i doubt they would offer to bathe my dog. they keep offering to get my dog a flea collar, but i don’t want that? and i need to take my dog to the vet and get his recs for flea stuff that also offers heartworm protection but i can’t drive right now, especially not during the day time, so i keep waiting and. 

it’s high summer and this is when fleas get bad. this is the first full summer we’ve had 2 dogs in the house and i think they weren’t prepared for it? 

anyway they’re very stressed and so i gave my dog a bath. after which *I* needed a shower, and those two things combined left me completely zapped. i’ve been lying in bed for the past 2+ hours and don’t think i can get up. i’m sitting up to type this and hating every moment of it, like i just need to lie down ??

so. i don’t have spoons to make dinner and i don’t want to order food because it’s expensive and the last thing i ordered was gross and i regretted it but had to eat it anyway so. like. idk man, the later it gets the worse the options are and i should just do it, but instead i’ll wait and suffer?? it’s dumb. idk what decision to make. 

and that’s really not that different from a lot of nights, like i get exhausted and it’s harder to function like a person. but then i went out to get my water bc i was very thorst and i couldn’t find it and they were like ‘oh we needed the table so we moved everything here,’ and pointed to the already crowded side table. and they’d just stacked everything on my plate with my banana peel from earlier there and i wanted to take it out because. that’s what you do? with food garbage? but they are really bad about that!! and all i could think was ‘if i don’t take this it will still be here along with whatever food trash they don’t clean up after eating’ so i went to pick it up but it was all stacked together and i physically couldn’t do it AND I HATE IT SO MUCH. 

and the trash is overflowing full and i don’t think they’ll take it out and i sure as fuck can’t do it? and they throw food in and it smells and leaks and. ugh. 

so i know that what i should do is in the moment ask if they can put my dishes in the sink. and ask if they can take out the trash tonight. but then i just feel like i’m nagging them and why don’t i do it myself? even though i can’t? 

and in my head this is just...politeness. really basic shit. you’re cleaning off the table? you take everything to the sink. you fill up the trash? you take it out. 

i’m having a house meeting with them to talk about my dad’s visit coming up in october and also to give them an update on my illness (basically = i’m really fucking sick, will not be working for another 6 months to a year possibly, and for right now i need them to be better about the trash etc) and i’m freaking out ? bc it’s hard to admit all that (internalized ableism says i’m a lazy faker who isn’t really sick and doesn’t deserve help! brain is extremely rude, 0/10, would like replacement immediately) BUT ALSO like maybe i’m asking too much? 

idk

anyway it’s getting harder to type i gotta lay down again

i wish i could sleep for a fucking year straight and wake up cured, i’m so sick of this

[queenburd]

you are good and you make me better

okay. few things.

1) i had a shitty terrible day at work and I needed to get it out of my system

2) i’m warming myself up for fic writing for summer again

two birds one stone. this is very raw with very little major changes from the first draft.

This fic includes discussions of misgendering and brief casual nudity with no descriptions. Queenie uses they pronouns this entire fic. It is important to note that they still use she pronouns and I’ll still use she/her for Queenie but Queenie is NB and it matters on a day to day basis for them.

anyway. housemates.

|.|.|.|

you are good and you make me better

Kass gets the text around six in the evening, as he is at the corner store purchasing a pack of cigarettes along with a couple candy bars. He flicks his phone open, squints at the screen, and then shoves it back into his pocket. Almost as an afterthought, Kass tosses a snickers bar onto the pile, then another. His phone buzzes in his pocket again, but he ignores it.

The house is dark when he gets back, though through the kitchen window and over the fence he can see the glint of a pair of perfect circles, under the silhouette of a black lightning bolt. The lightning bolt gives a little bob, and a bright screen waves at him. He flips it off absentmindedly as he pops open the window to get the summer air in.

“Why won't you answer my messages,” Dib hisses. “It's urgent!!”

“They can't hear you, mothboy. What am I supposed to say anyhow? Gee, thanks for the heads up? I don't actually need constant updates on the situation, thank-you-very-much.”

Kass is.... not very good at grateful, he'll own up to that much. Still, he sighs. “Go inside, I'll take care of it.”

“You better. It's never good when she gets this mad.”

“They.”

“Right. They. Sorry.”

“You'll get it.”

The lightning bolt pops back under the fence, out of sight. Kass rolls his eyes and climbs the stairs. The light is on in May's room, but their door is closed. He knocks twice, then enters.

“Bird, you scared the neighbors. I'm all for that.”

“ffmk mmff mm dm.”

“Yes, well, I don't speak pillow talk, as much as you wish I did.”

The lump on the bed cover turns its head towards him with thin eyes. “Fuck off and die.”

He can't help himself. He snorts. The little thing that looks back at him looks like hell—their hair, cut close to their scalp, is mussed on top, an effect of fingers being run through it, pulling at it. They are still in their work clothes, which means they're still in their binder.

May's eyes look bad. Not red, not like crying, but strained like the brow has been furrowed all day.

Kass approaches with more care than most people would know to recognize. Despite the miasma of rage they are radiating, he's undaunted, sitting on the edge of their bed frame, not touching them. He sets one of the snickers bars on the mattress, and slides it next to their head.

“You're not you when you're hungry.”

“Fuck off and die!!!” They snap again. He very nearly winces, grimacing a bit.

“Your vocabulary certainly is limited tonight.”

Credit where credit's due—Dib has every right to be worried. It's rare that May gets this angry, this sick of the human race. It can't be easy, working a job where you see the worst in people most of the time, because they consider you less than human. He doesn't envy them in the slightest.

Quietly, Kass pulls the corner store receipt out of his pocket and offers it to them. He watches as they begin to meticulously shred it, watches the tension in their knuckles and the disjointedness of their movements.

“Did you drink anything yet?”

They seem to prefer to ignore him. That's a no.

Slowly, Kass lowers himself into a crouch beside the bed. He watches their face, trying to meet their eyes. They look something terrible. As if not to startle a small creature (and isn't that what they are?) his hand raises, and he sets it on theirs. They try to pull back, halfheartedly.

“Eat something.”

Their jaw tenses up. He stands and leaves the room, but it's not long until he returns with a tall glass of water. They haven't sat up in that time, but they are nibbling on the snickers bar quietly, curled in tight on themself.

“Up,” he says, and with strained motions they sit up, taking the glass from him and downing half the contents loudly. When they hand it back, he sets it on the desk and kneels in front of them to begin unbuttoning their shirt. They don't argue it, letting him push the stiff fabric back off their shoulders. There's a stiffness to them, like they've forgotten how to relax their shoulders and spine. He pushes the calloused pads of his fingers into the curve where their neck meets their scalp. They close their eyes.

“Helping?” he asks simply. They shrug, and raise their arms obediently as he grabs the hem of their binder and pulls it up over their head. Partial nudity means little to them these days, especially considering the weird fluid nature of their relationship. He slides their pajama top over their head and they slowly do the rest.

-

May is a complicated person. They love humans. They believe in the potential of humans so strongly. They think humans aren't inherently bad, they've just been trained to look out only for themself.

And then, they just, crack. Sometimes all that hope leaves them, and they don't seem like May anymore. They seem more like--

well. More like Kass.

He doesn't want them to be like him. He doesn't want them to think like him, to think humans are a poison and worthless. So when their eyes go all steely and they seem more less like a person and more like a deity, Kass worries.

Hell, there was one incident where May looked straight at him and told him, maybe he was right. Maybe humans weren't worth saving. He couldn't describe how shaken he was at that. It had reverberated through his core, made him realize that he couldn't just mouth off as he liked. For once in Kass's pathetic, angry life, people were actually listening to the words coming out of his mouth.

That situation had ended in tears on their part, which isn't surprising. Most things make May cry, they're a tender thing.

He's a bit more careful now. He's careful with his words, and he watches them more closely for the signs. He's become proficient enough at it, enough that when Dib sees May's breakdowns across the street he's quick to alert Kass, to make Kass fix it.

Kass has never been particularly good at fixing things, but he knows May. So he knows what to do.

-

Their fingers are knotted in his shirt tightly, their face pressed into his collarbone. He pets their curls absentmindedly.

“I'm not a girl,” they nearly whimper, their lips twisted against his sternum in a grimace. “I'm not, I'm not, what the fuck am I doing wrong.”

It's best to just let them ride it out. Kass puffs out a breath over their head.

“Fuck, they don't pay me enough for me to bother being nice, why are humans so fucking entitled. You and your ugly baby can go burn in hell.”

“Do you want another candy bar?”

“Mmmgh. Yeah.”

He stays there for a while longer, while the tension in their body drains out of them. It's slow, because it's hard to take their mind off the subject, but they like it when he talks, so he talks. He talks about Dib's overt panic over nothing at all, he talks about a shitty meme he saw, he pulls out his phone and shows them dumb cat videos.

When did he get so dedicated to this? He doesn't know. He's not so sure why it matters to him. Maybe it's a stability thing; May seems usually so sure of their beliefs. Their casual optimism and ability to shrug things off is so much a norm that anything else feels like the world is skewed.

“Tired,” May finally mumbles. “Head hurts.”

Kass stretches, finally putting a small gap between them. “C'mon, crybaby,” he says pleasantly. “Let's get you some tea.”

“Okay.”

They trail after him like a lost puppy, down the stairs into the kitchen. When they sit, they pull their knees up onto the seat. He starts the kettle, and pops open the fridge to pluck out a cookie. May had made them a few days earlier, and sweets always help these moods. He hands it to them. May stares at the cookie with a distant look, before finally glancing up at him.

“Candy bars and cookies aren't food.”

Even as they speak, the cookie is halfway to their mouth for them to nibble at. Kass says nothing, preferring to lean back against the counter edge and smirk at them.

Moments like this, it really seems that May is perpetually frozen in a state of childhood. Not for naivety or immaturity, but for moments where they are curled up on themself, looking up at Kass with bright wide eyes over their knees, wearing clothing much too big for them. He's reminded that May stopped aging at nineteen, and, yes, there are features that aren't confined to being a child. They are small, so incredibly small, but compact, with broad shoulders and hips. Those aren't childlike.

They seem trapped in this strange in-between, like how they seem trapped between a human being and an ethereal “other”. Just real enough to be human, but far more idealized, like a sculpture.

Gay. The teapot whistles. He preps them a mug, and sets it in front of them. May leans over the mug, looking worn to the bone. Kass ruffles their hair.

“Thank you,” they mumble into the rim of the mug, tilting their head into his hand. “I love you.”

He doesn't say it back. It is not a natural thing for him to say, or even really understand. Instead, Kass scratches the parts of their scalp that he knows they like, and it's as close as he can get.

This—all of this—is as close as he can get to saying it. And that's okay. They understand.

They understand how he feels, and that's all that matters. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, or sees. It doesn't matter if he's never learned the language for this, it doesn't matter that he doesn't even know how to analyze his own feelings. This is all that matters:

That they are there for him, and he is there for them, and that will never change.

[that-buckley-gal]

Delirious #7 | Peas In a Pod

One Week Ago

Christian was Rooster’s roommate but excused himself as soon as Rooster and I entered. While Rooster went straight to his dresser to get a gym bag together, I demanded to know what it was I did wrong because he seemed to be fine all day when the parents were here and now that the day was nearly over, he decided to turn into a dick.

“Jesus Christ, Gemma! I just need to relax after today. Don’t you? I’m fucking tired as shit,” he said meanly as he stuffed clothes into the bag.

“Yet you still want to go the gym and ‘exhaust yourself some more’, huh?”

“Don’t start,” he breathed, walking past me to the bathroom.

I didn’t say anything else until he came back out. I knew he’d have to go by me again to get to the door in the first place.

I grabbed his arm when he walked by and he stopped. He didn’t pull his arm away until I let it go, which was strange for me as this isn’t how I thought that would go, especially with his reputation.

“Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?” I ask. “You were fine when I came here this morning and amazing when my parents and Teddy were here, but now that everyone’s gone? I get that you’re probably tired out from all that entertaining we had to do…”

“What’s your point?” Rooster asked, staring at the door rather than looking at me.

“We had plans, remember? We were just going to go back to my place and order a pizza and watch a movie…or two. Then you just decide to go to the gym with Zook and McQuaid?”

“I don’t treat your friends like shit,” Rooster stated simply before walking out of the room. It took me a moment to think of when I ever treated one of his friends ‘like shit’ before I remember my lack of communication with Christian earlier today as well as the not-communicating spiel we’ve had going on since the party. When I lost my respect for him because of his actions.

“THAT IS DIFFERENT!” I screamed, suddenly pissed at Rooster. “JAMES TATRO, GET YOUR SORRY ASS BACK HERE RIGHT NOW SO WE CAN TALK THIS SHIT OUT!”

I step out of the room and Rooster is still on the upper level, debating on whether or not he should stay or leave. The other open doorways in the hall slammed shut and Rooster sighed before letting his bag hit the floor.

“Well?” He asked in a bored tone.

“Well what?” I asked back.

“Aren’t you going to apologize?”

“What do I have to apologize for? For not talking to somebody? As far as I’m concerned, normal people don’t consider that as treating someone like shit.”

“What is your problem with him anyway, huh? Did he do anything to you?” Rooster asked back in a heated tone of voice. “Did he do anything to personally hurt you?”

I step back slightly. “Well, no. But – ”

“Then why the hell are you acting like a bitch?”

I stay quiet.

“I get that your last relationship was fucked. I was there! Remember? But that doesn’t automatically give you the right to judge everyone in a similar situation.”

“Jimmy.”

“You don’t even fucking know what happened between them, Gem. You heard Penny’s story and that’s all right? Did you even want to hear Christian’s?”

“Please, I – ”

“What about, uh, what’s her name? Jasmine? She barely scratched the surface of her story before you shoved her to the curb in order to go jump on Penny’s lap, but I guess that’s what you do, right? First Brooke, then Jasmine.”

“Where is this coming from? Christ, okay! I am sorry for not wanting to hear Christian’s side of the story and I will apologize to him for that!”

“Oh, don’t do me any favors now, Gem.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I yell at him. “You know the reason why I don’t want to talk to him, Rooster?”

“No! I know the reason why!”

“No you don’t!”

“Then tell me why!”

“Because it…” I swallow the lump in my throat and blink back tears that threaten to fall. “I don’t want to talk to Christian because it is too damn hard for me, Jim. Okay? Every time I see his face I just think of Pete and how he didn’t give a damn about me after two shots! Call me crazy but I just…

“You’ve never been cheated on, Rooster,” I sigh and close my eyes, feeling tears fall from both eyes. I open them again and look at Rooster, who looks ready to give up and apologize but I hold up my hand to stop him. “Just…you don’t understand, okay? And I don’t want to sit here and try to explain it because it doesn’t make sense, and I know that that’s probably hard to get, so… Go to the gym. With Brad and Zook. We can talk when you come back.”

I step back into his room and close the door. I only lock it when I hear footsteps approaching the door.

The knob jiggled and then there was knocking on the door.

“Gemma, open the door please,” Rooster said.

“No,” I said. “I need to calm down right now, please leave.”

Rooster knocked again and I sighed. I rested my forehead on the door with my hand on the handle, resisting the insane want to open the door.

“James,” I said. My voice was cracked as silent tears made their way down my face. “I need to be alone for a little while. We can talk when you come back from the gym so just go already.”

“I’m not going to leave you here while you’re upset,” he said. “Please open the door.”

I turned and sank to the floor and I could hear Rooster do the same on the other side.

-

I must’ve fallen asleep.

I stand up slowly and unlock the door, opening it slowly to see Rooster sprawled out in front of the door, a few cans of pop lying around him. I close the door again and debate on what I should do.

Take a break.

I take off the necklace that houses Rooster’s Greek letters and let it rest on his pillow before moving over to the window and step out onto the roof. I shuffle over a few rooms down to Zook’s room and sneak in through the window; grateful that he and McQuaid were heavy sleepers and didn’t hear my feet padding around.

Once I’m in the still-lit hallway, I peer over to Rooster’s room again seeing he’d rolled onto his back. I smile sadly at the sight and make my way down the stairs as quiet as I can. I see Christian asleep on the couch and ponder Rooster’ words from before.

Just because Pete was a douche doesn’t mean Christian was one. Brooke had the hots for Pete only because he was her boyfriend’s best friend and her Little’s boyfriend. Penny and Christian didn’t make their relationship known until after the news broke of Jasmine and Christian. Maybe the whole thing really was a misunderstanding.

A misunderstanding I would need to figure out later.

I step out of the frat house and sit on the porch swing, only then questioning the time as the sky was starting to lighten up already.

I pull out my phone to see it was 5:34 A.M. and I wonder if my parents were already up and awake in order to head back down South. I call my mom and when she answers, she sounds like she’s been awake for a while.

“Mom? Can you come get me please?”

“Of course I can. Is everything all right?” She asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I just really need to take a break right now; yesterday just really made me realize it.”

“Are you with Zook?”

“Yeah, I’m at his house.”

“Okay, I’ll send the car to come pick you up before it picks us up.”

“Thanks.”

Bonus bit: Jimmy's P.O.V.

Jimmy woke up the next morning on the floor in front of his room. It was early from what he could tell from the light coming in from the window at the end of the hall. He stood up and stretched slowly and went to the bathroom.

He checked the time on his phone to see that it was 7:13 A.M. and sighed. He approached his bedroom door with caution and knocked softly. There was silence from the other side and Jimmy thought that Gemma might still be asleep. He was about to go downstairs but instead opted to try the knob. The door was unlocked and he let out a breath, feeling relieved.

That relief was short-lived as he took in the empty room. Confused, he circled the room wondering when, and how, Gemma got out. Jimmy circled the room again before his eyes landed on the necklace resting on his pillow.

“What? No,” he mumbled to himself. “No, please.” He grabbed the silver necklace and fingered the charms with the Greek letters.

Giving Gemma his Greek letters was something he didn’t have to think about. He knew there would be repercussions from his frat brothers but he knew it would be worth it to have everyone on campus know that Gemma was his.

Some time passed before Zook tentatively poked his head in, wondering if everything was ok only to see Jimmy lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“She’s gone,” Jimmy said.

Now

Zook’s been keeping me up to date about the lessons I’m missing; he told the instructors and my housemates that I got sick suddenly and was staying at his dorm.

He always locked himself in his room, without Brad, before calling me in order to keep our conversations private and my location hidden from Rooster although he’s already guessed my whereabouts.

I’ve turned the send receipts off on my phone so Rooster can’t tell that I’m reading his messages.

He also sent the necklace I left back to me. The metal felt cool on my skin even now.

Since my homework was all done, I was sat on my bed watching Mean Girls eating Fruit Loops straight from the box while a can of diet soda sat on my table.

“…with rainbows and sprinkles,” I quoted along with the movie before there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I say expecting to see Teddy or one of my parents. I flick a Fruit Loop at the screen and quote Damien: “She doesn’t even go here!”

The sound of a breath exhale from the nose makes me look at my guest, surprisingly unsurprised by the sight of my red-hawked beau.

“Took you long enough,” I say and scoot over on my bed, making room for him to sit. Jimmy gives me a surprised look before he shuts the door and comes and sits by me. We watch the movie in an awkward silence.

I pause the movie and sigh. “I’m sorry…for sticking my nose into someone else’s relationship. And for ignoring your friend. And for yelling at you. And leaving without saying anything. Ok? I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jimmy said. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, and calling you names. And for not understanding your reasons for being upset. And for not coming here sooner. I thought you would’ve kicked me out.”

“I still can,” I smile briefly. We look at each other, and Rooster leans in. I turn away from him and instead he fingers the Greek letter charms on my necklace.

“You really are an idiot, you know that?”

“What?” I turn to him.

“Leaving this on my pillow and then leaving without saying anything to anyone? Jeez, you made me think we were done!”

“Well you are a nimrod, nimrod!”

“How?”

“Please, let me in,” I mock him. “You could’ve broke down the door or tried to get in through the window.”

“We wouldn’t get our security deposit back if I broke the door. As for the window, well… I thought – you said you wanted space!”

We fell into a tense silence.

“Can we just pretend that the fight never happened?” He asked.

“No because it did,” I said. “But we can try to work on issues that were brought up during it and move past it.”

He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. Our eyes were boring into each other’s and I leaned in and kissed him. He kissed me back instantly, his arms pulling me into him.

“You have no idea how much I love you, Jimmy Tatro” I said.

“You can bet that I love you more than that, Gemma Haythe,” he said.

[clevernewdimension]

Unearthly Delights Part Eleven (M)

Preview, One, Two (M), Three, Four (M), Five, Six (M), Seven (M), Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve (Coming soon!)

Genre: Drama, Smut, Action, Romance, Supernatural Creatures and Monsters AU

Pairing: JunmyeonxCharacter

Word Count: 6.5K

A/N: Sehun backstory? Sehun backstory. Tiny little smut? Tiny little smut.

Sehun, for his seemingly cold exterior and dead panned expressions, was one of the most kind hearted and thoughtful people, I’ve learned. I found myself at his place, wearing one of his shirts on his couch after taking a shower. His place was nice, a big studio apartment. The two bathrooms are separated by a wall that didn’t go to the ceiling. The two bedrooms as well, though when I asked Sehun said that magic makes it so no noise leaves them, sort of like Junmyeon’s office. Below the loft bedroom was the entrance and the door that goes out to the balcony.

One of the rooms, the master one, was up some stairs, walls and a sliding door separating it from the living room. Sehun’s place was neat, very modern and stylish, which I’ve come to expect from him. Johnny’s room was past the kitchen and dining room, across from the bathroom. He wasn’t home, attending classes at the moment. I listened as Sehun complains about having to tidy up after him from time to time. I could tell by the small smile on his face he doesn’t seem all that bothered.

The door opens, and Johnny walks in, setting his keys on a hook by the door. Looks just like he always did. Fairly normal and not completely fucked up. Jeans, shoes, a hoodie over a faded tee with the logo of Taemin’s fighting club. A hat on his head, backwards with a little bit of hair falling through the front. Just like a normal college kid. He looks up, seeing me, before looking and seeing Sehun in the kitchen. He sighs,  shaking his head “Dude, if you were going to fuck the person that’s practically my sister, I’d appreciate the warning to stay late and study instead of seeing this.”

“Assumptions are for stupid people,” Sehun says calmly, before pointing at me, as if that was explanation enough.

I look up, and his eyes soften, seeing my red ones. He sets his bag down, moving closer. “What happened,” He asked, knowing that for me to cry something had to have happened.

“He’s… the person who killed Junmyeon’s sister was my father,” I say, no more tears able to fall. I was still in shock. “He… he had my mother killed. He killed his sister. He wanted me to join them. But I can’t. I’d never,” I mumble, though quietly.

Johnny places his hand on my arm, looking back towards Sehun. The look on his face said he wanted answers and he wanted them now. The shapeshifter takes over, “Junmyeon needed space to think. I mean, he met the man who killed his sister and then found out that it was Ava’s father. His world just got rocked too. So he left, but he called me, and stayed close by until I got there just in case they came back for her. She was never alone.”

“Still a shitty thing to do,” Johnny bites back, rolling his eyes. The frown on his face growing by the second. “I get he needed space, but he could have at least talked to her before you got there.”

An exasperated sigh leaves Sehun, as he crossed his arms, “He just n-”

“Why are you defending him,” Johnny asks, not angry, but looking disappointed in his friend and housemate.

Sehun rolls his eyes, “I owe everything to Junmyeon. My life, especially. I know him. He doesn't hate her. He doesn’t blame her. I’m absolutely certain he told her it wasn’t her fault, too.”

“I look like him,” I say, their conversation not really affecting my at all. “I look like the person who killed his sister.”

I could hear footsteps, before seeing Sehun push the coffee table away with ease with his foot. A swift kick and it was moved a few feet. Like it was made of feathers, as he sits down in front of me. Sehun places his hands on my knees, looking me in the eyes, “The man you know, the man he is… you know him. The way he feels for you is everything that happened before they crashed the date.”

I could feel my face flush, remembering the nice time we had before. I felt oddly normal, or once. I’ve never done that sort of thing, not even with Aiden. “It wasn-”

“It very much was a date, Ava,” Sehun says, giving me a bit of a glare. “I can tell you how excited Junmyeon was this morning when I saw him. We meet for breakfast or dinner at least three times a week, and he was nervous and excited. I haven’t seen him like that almost the entire time I’ve known him, and I’ve known him longer than you’ve been alive.” His eyes soften, remembering, “Ava. He is the brother I never had. I know him better than he knows himself most of the time.” Sehun smiled at himself at that. “Trust me, it very much was a date in his eyes, and everything that happened before those assholes showed up is how he feels about you. Don’t overlook that. He’ll never admit it, but he was scared when you both were confronted, and when someone is scared it makes them do dumb, thoughtless things.”

Johnny watched to the side as he spoke, holding his tongue. After a few seconds, he nods, “Alright. If you say so.” He looks at me, bumping his shoulder to mine, “But still, he shouldn’t have said that. About her looking like that.”

“I agree,” Sehun says, leaning and resting his back on the table. “It was stupid, but like I said, when faced with that kind of trauma, people don’t always react in the best way.” He shakes his head, before looking back to us. “So, we’re ordering in. What do you want?”

“Tacos,” I say with a mumble, looking up at them.

Johnny nods, giving me a grin. I could tell he was still a bit upset, but decided to hold his tongue for my sake. He pats my shoulder, “and ice cream!”

Sehun just smiles as we let Johnny go to get it. He wanted to go, since he’s been sitting down all day at classes and the walking would do him good. I think he needs a little time to think everything through, honestly. Sehun sighed, moving to fall down next to me on the couch after getting up and handing me some water. He made sure to kick the table back into place before he sat down, putting a coaster down for my drink as I set it down after drinking half of it.

“They always joke about my age,” Sehun says, cutting through the silence. His eyes blank, looking forward at nothing in particular. He was very stiff and he looked exhausted. “But… I really am the oldest. Shocking, I know.” He says, turning to look at me as I tilt my head to meet his eyes. “I am over a thousand years old. I was the son of an ancient King, in Korea. The only son of a king whose wife died when I was ten. Vampires attacked, overtook the throne and locked me away. I was kept as their plaything. Made to do whatever they wanted. When I turned twenty-four, they injected me with something. The blood of a shifter.”

He holds out his hand, and I watch as it changes, the skin becoming lighter, even lighter than mine before going back. “They made me immortal, and tried to convince me to work for them for their benefit.” His eyes go dark, “But, I remember that night very well. I was the only son, but I had a sister. She was six that night. Her birthday a few days before. They killed her in cold blood. Jun and I bonded over that,” He says, scoffing. “Kind of a sick thing to bond over. So I told them there was nothing they could have done to make me work for them.”

He leans against the couch, still facing me, “So they kept me in a room. No light. No food. No water. Just to see how long it would take for me to die. The rumors are that, unless physically murdered, shifters can’t die. They decided to test the rumor. I lived.” His face is stone cold, looking off into space. His eyes not focusing on anything but the memories. “The shifter blood I was given was an original one. Not a made one, but one that has been around since the beginning of time. For centuries I went without food or water. Decades without seeing a single person. I went mad, all alone by myself.” Sehun sighed, crossing his arms over himself, like a protective shell. Not that I could blame him. “I wanted to die. Everyday I wanted it to end. I tried to kill myself so they chained me up. I was too weak to use my strength, so I kept living. Then I convinced myself it was the punishment I deserve for not saving my sister. I was alone in life. So alone.” He glances over, a small smirk on his face. “Until one day, about seventy years ago, the door opened. The head of the clan wanted to see what else they could do to me. See if they could make other shifters that are loyal to them stronger. They wanted to use me as the test subject.”

I stay quiet, listening as he spoke. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him, watching him remember all this awful shit. I find things difficult to talk about, so I can’t imagine how hard it is for him. He was picking at a loose thread on his shirt, “So they tried adding other things. For that, they needed me strong. With the help of a siren, I was eating, drinking and out of that dark room. Took me forever to trust Baek and Dae since they’re sirens too.” He sighs, shaking his head, “They trained me. To deceive. To seduce. To fight. To kill.” Sehun glares at a spot on the wall, “I was their puppet. I was in the light, seeing things and eating food, but not really seeing it. I was in a constant haze. Nothing was clear. I was out and no longer starving for centuries, but I would have rather been back in that room than to have been their plaything again. Then they started when they thought I was strong enough. Demon blood didn’t really do anything, since shifters are already demonic in nature. Vampire blood doesn’t, either. After all, to turn you have to be bitten and drained almost to death or almost dying and then drink the blood of the vampire who bit you in order to turn. Just their blood wouldn’t work. They tried it all. Werewolf, siren, merperson… until they stumbled onto a mixture of two exceedingly rare bloods.”

He look at me, shaking my head, “It’s a shock, but they do exist. Angels. That whole shit. It’s true, but not as bad as ‘if you do this you will go to hell forever your soul is going to suffer’ bullshit. God and all that mostly just… watches. Like we all a bad sitcom, I imagine.” He says with a smile, looking over. “You’re the badass mystery girl trope if there ever has been one. Your probably has terrible ratings.”

“Fuck you,” I say before I could stop myself, causing him to laugh a little.

He grins, “But angels are fairly common, even now. They walk among us, helping sometimes. People who deserve it. Sometimes to people who don’t. But archangels? They are rare. They’re tall. Huge. Even the most ancient of vampires wince away in their presence since they radiate pure sunlight. The halo is just a horn that’s a circle, connected. Their eyes can see through any illusion and their minds can not be tricked or forced to obey. The Venture clan managed to get a vial of their blood. I don’t know how, maybe a fallen one. Happens once about five or so centuries. It was the only vial, and since I was the one who showed the most promise, they wanted to use it on me. But they waited. They were missing something. They wanted to try to make me into their perfect weapon.”

He smiles, though it was a bitter and angry one. “Then, they stumbled onto the last of the remaining vials of basilisk blood. They died six or seven centuries ago as people started hunting them for good luck and fortune.” Sehun sighs, “Probably for the best. They killed so many people just eating. Their blood was thought to be gone too, as some vampires drank it like it was a fine wine, apparently. After getting their hands on a vial, that is what they decided to try. They mixed the two and injected it directly into my heart.” He closes his eyes, “The pain… unbearable. The angel blood reacting to the demonic shifter blood. It was like I was melting from the inside out.” He smirks, “It backfired, their little experiment. I got a lot of abilities. No vemon, but I can change my eyes and make a person die if I want. Thankfully no scales either. Granted it’s so exhausting I’d pass out almost immediately. It’s not something I care to do, but if I need to, I will. What they didn’t expect was I gained a resistance. Archangels are resistant to a siren’s call. And a lot of things. Because of that, I was free from their brainwashing, essentially.”

“I was like a frantic cornered animal,” He says shaking his head. “I was ripping whatever came at me to shreds. I was scared… broken… alone. I broke away from the place and found myself down in a tunnel. Turns out it was a subway tunnel. I’ve never seen one. I got out of a station and up on the street and it was so different. The lights, the noise, the language, everything was different and it was all awful. Yet, I could read it. Archangels can read and speak all languages with little to no effort, no matter how old, after all. People talking about me, calling me awful things. I was overloaded from all the new things I just bolted. I ran, just ran until I ran literally into a person. It was Junmyeon. And he was… god, he was covered in blood as he was breathing heavily, holding that knife,” He says pointing at my boot where he knew I had it. “Turns out I stumbled into a fight between the people who had me and a one man army, essentially. I could smell the Venture blood he spilled and I knew he was the only chance I had to get away from them.”

“He looked at me, holding the knife to me. I was terrified he was going to kill me, until two people came up behind me, grabbing me.” Sehun says, shaking his head. “Jun is smart. He know that those were the same people. That I was against them, too. So, after killing probably another three of them, they left scared for their lives and we were just… there.”

Sehun smiles fondly, “He took me in. My mind was fucked up after centuries of wasting away, and then decades of people forced to fight and kill, among other things. I had to practically be reprogrammed back into a person. There were times I’d fall back into the schedule and training they put me through without realizing it. Jun helped me through it all, never once letting me down or letting me feel like I was worthless and broken.” Sehun smiles at those memories fondly. “I lived with him for a little over a decade. I told him everything and he became the brother I never had. I may be older than him, but I see him as an older brother. After all, those centuries locked away and that time under a haze I don’t exactly count as living.” He sighs, “Then, my worst fear happened. They came for me again. And they found something that could kill me. A knife. It was gaudy. Gold, with jewels of every different color. It was some sort of cursed blade. They were scared of me, or the power they gave me and now that I was uncontrollable, I needed to be stopped. They tried to stab me but it never happened. He put himself between them and me. Stabbed in the stomach. Junmyeon almost died for me.”

Sehun winces at that, probably replaying the moment in his head. “He saved my life time and time again. Ava, I would do anything for him.” He looks up, putting his hand over mine, “so trust me when I say that he cares. He’s loyal and compassionate and he does whatever he can for the people he cares about. He’s forgiving, unless you hurt someone he cares about. He adores you, and finding this out isn't going to change that. If you were with them all along? He would have felt betrayed. But you’re not. They hurt you too. So trust me when I say that he has no ill thoughts towards you. If anything, the fact that they hurt to too just added to his deep hatred of them.” He smiles, “It’s weird. I always though he’d be into someone, you know… prim and proper. I think you’re a nice change, though there are some things about you that need work.”

“Thanks,” I say, rolling my eyes. I shove him, “I’m glad you escaped them, you fuck.”

“I’d appreciate you not telling people all of that,” He says, just as the lock was starting to be messed with. “No one but you and Jun know that, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Sure thing Angel,” I say smiling when Sehun shoved me, a small pout on his face.

A few days later, I was getting ready for work. Ariel sent me a text chain talking about things and tips for what to do and what to look out for. I was apprehensive to see Junmyeon again. I’m not angry at him, but I am livid at the man who is supposedly my father. I sigh to myself, finishing off my braids as I look at myself in the mirror. Black boots for kicking ass are a must, but my legs are covered in fishnet stockings that go up until they reach my black shorts with had a lot of my ass hanging out. Two straps that did nothing but rest higher on my hips, leaving some place cut out to show a little more skin. Ariel came over and dropped off the top I was wearing yesterday, a grin on her face.

It was a halter style top, tied at the neck with a band that goes around the back. It was tight, but shows off a lot of side boob and cleavage. A little eyeliner and mascara and I was good to go. I put my leather jacket on, opening my door and starting my journey to the club. I got a few catcalls, which I proceeded to flip off as I walked. Opening the door, the place was different already. I hung my jacket up in the employee’s room before moving, seeing the place. Where there was once a dance floor there is down large beds with small tabled around. None of these are private, save for a few at the back with curtains. Minseok was at the bar, preparing as Ariel looked up at me, smiling. She pulls me to the front of her, before starting to put jelly like glitter in my hair in the part between my two braids.

“This is gonna such to get out but it just makes you look even hotter,” She says, as Minseok looked at me, smiling. He was wearing his usual, ready to get people drinks.

She then lightly dusts some more of the glitter on my collar bones before pulling away, “All done,” She says, smiling.

Sehun was also at the bar, drinking a little water before his night began. He looks me over, “Nice.”

“Thanks,” I say, crossing my arms.

Soon after, the doors opened and it got hotter in here than ever. Temperature and otherwise. People fucking like rabbits right in front of my eyes as I was scanning the room, making sure no one was being taken advantage of. It wasn’t even ten minutes in when I had to stop a guy from harassing two women who were fine with each other. They smiled at me, telling me they were lesbians and wanted to know if I could take some time off. I smile, feeling flattered, but I told them no thank you. If I wasn’t there to stop people from being asshole who know what would happen. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were having a tougher time than I was, having to pull people away from one another often.

Overall, besides the moaning and, sometimes, yelling, it was mostly normal. It was nice to not have music thumping loudly. I went to Minseok and told him I was going to go use the restroom, and to watch out for a bit. He nods, giving me a thumbs up. I move through the people, before opening the bathroom door. I could see a woman on her knees, hearing the obscene noise of her giving him some help. The person holding her head was very familiar. I smile, seeing Jongdae with his head back, low groans echoing in the room. I didn’t say anything as I quickly use the bathroom, watching my hands just as they were bending. The woman turns, and I look over, seeing the familiar face.

“Hey Rory,” I say with a grin. She wore a tight mini skirt with a very short crop top that shows off a lot of underboob without trying. She jumped a little when I spoke, and I could see she wore small pasties under it as she just smiled, her hair in a high ponytail that was now lopsided.

She blushes, biting her lips with a small smile, “Hi! This is great! I always wanted to come here. Especially during this week too!”

“Glad you could come by,” I say, grinning. “If someone bothers you, come to me, ok?”

She nods, “Will do!” She looked back at Jongdae, smiling, “I’ll have to see you again sometime.”

Jongdae smiles, adding on a lot of flirting, “Well, I’m here a lot. Though, if you mean it, I could give you my number.”

I shake my head, “I’ve got to get back to it. I’ll see you later.”

She smiles, waving, but her eyes don’t leave Jongdae. I weave my way though the people getting it on, seeing as Jongin comes from the stairs. Face covered with red lipstick prints as he smiles, hair all over. He walks over to Minseok, “Water please!” His eyes glowing bright red. He smiles at me, “Hey, Ava!”

“I take it you’re feasting, hm,” I ask as Minseok hands him a water.

“The sin associated with incubuses is lust but right now for me it’s gluttony because it all is just so delicious,” He says, practically moaning as he takes the glass.

Minseok passes me a thick envelope, “Take this to Junmyeon. A person he works with left it with him and said it’s urgent.”

My heart stopped for a second hearing that, “Jongin, can you do it? I need to keep an eye out-”

Minseok looks over, “No. You.”

“Fuck,” I say, glaring at Minseok, who just gave me a sarcastic smile in return. I take the envelope, before moving towards his office. I knock twice before opening the door, looking town to the ground. “Minseok said someone dropped this off for yo…”

I look up, seeing the man who was the head of the Venture clan ahead of me. The man who was apparently my father. He was standing two feet in front of Junmyeon, back towards me. I rushed forward, yanking the man back and putting myself in between them, my eyes burning with rage.

“Ava,” Junmyeon says, hand on my shoulder.

I reach down my boot, grabbing the knife as it flares to life, holding it out to him. “Leave,” I growl, “Go away. Now.”

The man just looks at me with a bored, plain expression. “This is touching,” A voice says that was clearly not his. I watch as his form shifts, and Sehun stands before me now. A small smile tugging on the edge of his lips.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I let the knife fade, putting it back in my boot. I take a deep breath, moving a giving Sehun a punch in the shoulder.

Sehun looks insulted at my weak attempt to hurt him. “Well that’s unnecessary,” He says, not even moving.

“Pretend like it hurt you fucker,” I yell, hitting him again. My knuckles will be bruised from this and he’ll come out of it fine, but it’ll help me in the moment.

Sehun looked surprised, eyes wide. He lets himself be moved a little, “Uh… Ow. Owwie.”

I feel a hand on my shoulder, making me stop before I throw another. I turn, seeing Junmyeon, “Here. Minseok said to give you this.”

I push it towards his chest, trying to get to the door. I was scared, seeing that man rocked me to my core. I thought Junmyeon was in danger. I thought he was going to kill Junmyeon.

A hand catches me, gently pulling me back. Sehun looks at me, before pushing me towards Junmyeon. “You two. Talk.”

His arms wrap arounds me, preventing me from falling. “But I have to handle security,” I say, trying to find any excuse I could to leave.

Sehun’s form shifts until I see myself standing in front of me, the exact same outfit. He gives me the finger, looking like me, before moving and walking away, opening the door and slamming it behind him.

Junmyeon removes his hands after a moment, “Um…” He tosses the envelope on his desk, knocking over an empty ramen cup as it bounces onto the floor.

I shake my head, “I should get back to work. Sehun can’t cover for me, he’s booked all night and we can’t le-”

“Avelyna,” He says, softly, taking a step towards me.

I stop speaking, looking at the floor. It felt weird. Everyone else in the world I would have looked in the eye no problem. I would have stared and kept my shoulders back and shown no fear. But I was afraid, at least a little. There was something about this man that easily cut through my barriers and it was terrifying.

“I’m sorry,” He says putting a hand on my shoulder. “Sehun told me how you were after. I shouldn’t have just left you like that. I should have stayed.”

I look up, seeing him take one of his hands and run it thought his hair. He looked back to me and I could see the regret on his face. “I didn’t want to make you feel that way. I put what I was feeling before how you must have felt and I’m so sorry for that.”

“I get it,” I say, “He… he killed your sister. I just wanted you to know I never knew about that and I never, ever would have wanted that. That I didn’t know him or what he does.” I bite my lip, looking off to the side. “I just… I don’t want you to look at me and see him.”

He moves, holding my face in his hands, “I never could. You’re…” He take a moment to think, a small smile coming to his face again, “despite dressing like a middle schooler going through a phase-”

“Hey,” I say, glaring a little, momentarily forgetting how scared and awkward I felt.

He laughs, “Despite that, you’re a bright light in my life. You’re everything I was told to avoid growing up, honestly. You’re rude, you're not ladylike, you’re promiscuous, you’re rebellious, and you have no problem getting into a bare knuckle brawl if it could get you something.”

I wince, thinking about it. Made sense. His family seemed like the upper class. Influences politics and used marriage for some sort of gain somehow. Classy, which I was not. I shrug, “Well when you put it like that-”

“But that’s not all you are. That’s your armor, Avelyna,” He says, smiling, “You’re actually very kind. You help your friends if they need it, no matter what it is. You defend yourself and others, even if it means standing in the face of a head vampire who could rip you to pieces with a flick of their wrist,” He says, smiling, gesturing to the knife in my boot. “You’re loyal to your friends and you never back down no matter how hard something is. That is admirable. All of those reasons are why I can’t help but get more enamored by you every second since I’ve met you.”

My face was flushed, probably beet red with how much he’s complimenting me. He moves, wrapping his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. His lips softly press into my hair. I tightened my arms around him, holding him closely.

He pulls away, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to my lips before grinning at me. He looks at me, laughing as he just hold my face again. “You looks so cute when you’re flustered!” He just grins, before letting me go.

“I-I’m gonna go b-back to work now,” I say quickly as I could, causing Junmyeon to laugh. I open the door, quickly shutting it behind me as I willed myself to calm down. I look, seeing myself keeping a watchful eye. I move, tapping my shoulder. It was a surreal experience to say the least.

He turns, sighing, “Thank god, behind a human sucks.” His form moves back into Sehun, his hair bright purple. “I felt so powerless and weak, it was awful!”

“Thanks, asshole,” I say, pushing him only for him to not budge at all. He just grins, leaving me to my place and moving away, back to work. The rest of the night was rather uneventful. When I did finally take my break I managed to take a moment on the roof of the club, taking in some fresh air instead of the clouds of sex and sweat below.  There was a small seating space made. Some seats made from reclaimed wood and nice comfy cushions. There was a little storage shed on the top, as I leaned against the wall of it and too in the sight and the sounds of the city that never sleeps. I hear the door behind me open as I turn, seeing Minseok. His eyes glowing a little red for a moment.

“Sorry,” He says, glaring, “Just… the last guy was a real piece of work.”

“Wanna vent about it,” I ask, drinking the last of my water and crushing the bottle. “Trust me, I love talking shit about people who are assholes!”

“Some asshole vampire from a different clan bringing up the fate of mine,” He says, glaring at the sky. “There was this pact between clans, and everyone but mine was in it centuries ago. We left right about the time I was born, actually. Some decrepit assholes still hold it against us… well, me. They say my clan deserved it’s fate, even if the pact is all broken up now.” He sighs, reaching for his pocket and getting a pack of cigarettes, which, from what I can tell, are not actually cigarettes. I wait as he lights it up, taking a quick drag from it. “Worst is they like to remind me I’m to blame for my clan’s deaths.”

“I hardly think that’s a fair thing to say,” I mutter, declining as he offered me the blunt. “I have to keep a sound head while I’m working. Perhaps after.”

“Right, I forget that it has a bigger effect on humans.” He nods, “Well, in a way I am. I’m the one who made friends with Junmyeon. I’m the one who helped fuel my clans hate for Ventures. When it started to crash down, I’m the one who went for help from werewolves, which for a very long time was a line never to be crossed.” He holds the blunt with his other hand, there was a ring on his middle finger. Plain. No design. He, with his thumb, slips it down and I could see red irritated and burned skin.

“Minseok, what the fuck,” I say, moving and taking the ring off his hand, “That’s iron!”

“Only about forty perfect,” He says, looking at it sadly. “That was a family ring. Of... my old fiancee, who was killed by the Ventures in the battle. He was human, like you. He was killed in the last battle as a price I had to pay for fighting back. So, I wear the ring to remember it was my fault.”

“Well I’m not going to give this back to you,” I say, clutching my hand around it. “I don’t care if you fight me and rip me to pieces, I’m not going to let you keep torture yourself like a fucking idiot.”

Minseok just smiles, looking at me. He shakes his head, looking towards the skyline for just a moment. “Fine. Hold onto it, then. Just listen to us when we tell you to run and not fight, please? We know from personal experience that humans tend to die easily and are often targeted. You listen to us, I’ll let you hold onto the ring.”

“Fine,” I say, putting it on my thumb. The only finger it would fit. “What’s with the weed though?”

“I can smell the blood coming from the ‘sexy dungeon area’,” Minseok says,bushing his hair back and out of his face. “I’m trying to wait until after work to feed. This mellows out the senses just enough so that I’m not constantly smelling it. It makes it harder to smell, but the eyes and ears work fine, oddly enough.”

“If you’re that hungry you could just bite me,” I say, holding my arms out.

I could see him tense, his eyes jerking to look over me. I watch Minseok bite his lip, then look away, “Ava, you really shouldn’t say things like that.”

“There are no feeders here tonight,” I say walking forward and moving my braid off my shoulder. “If you just drink from me, you’ll be set. I trust you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Minseok sighs, extinguishing the blunt before looking at me again. His eyes searching for any hesitation. He puts his hands on my shoulders, with a sigh. He was quiet for a moment, before looking up, “Are you sure?”

I nod, “Absolutely.”

Minseok nods, gently tipping my head into the perfect position. His eyes glowing red as he moves closer, his fangs growing into sharp needles. “I’ll try to be gentle,” He says in my ear. “It’ll be different than when I healed you. More powerful. Be prepared for that, ok? I’ll help you if you need me to after.”

“Just fucking do it,” I mumble, causing him to laugh. Then, two things pierce my skin. My body didn’t have time to feel pain. Pleasure pulsed through me as I hold onto him, screaming out a moan. The effect of the bite was like as if I had been edged for a fucking hour. Immediately shaking in pure lust and need. His hands held me perfectly in place, not letting my neck or head move as I gripped at anything I could. His shirt, his neck, anything. I could feel him remove the fangs, sucking at the two open holes as now it’s his turn to groan. I almost didn’t hear it as I couldn’t stop myself from moaning, my hands shaking. My vision goes blurry, every other thing around me that isn’t Minseok seemed to have dulled.

I feel him lick the wound, the healing starting to happen, When he pulls away, the wound is closed as everything around us is still dull but him. There was some redness on his lips as he looks at me, a smile on his face. His fangs shrink, his eyes losing their glow.

The effect of the bite was that I was probably the mostsexually frustrated I’ve ever felt. “Please,” I moan, my hands gripping at him harder, trying to seek some kind of satisfaction from all of this. Minseok could see that, he knew. He grinned, pulling me close, picking me up and pushing my back to the wall. His lips met mine, his tongue licking into my mouth as I taste the sharp copper of my own blood. Minseok didn’t waste any time at all. He pulls my shorts down a little, pushing his fingers in me quickly, having no trouble as I realise I was practically dripping with how turned on I was. The thumb rubbed harshly against my clit, making me moan into his mouth.

He pulls away, looking me in the eyes as he just smirks, “I knew I’d have to do this, fix the problem I caused.”

“Please,” I say, my hand gripping at his hair.

I watch as his fangs grow a little as he leans forward, quickly cutting my lip. He kisses me again, the feeling of him drinking my blood returning. The warm blanket of added pleasure from it making me go crazy. The sensation almost too much. I try to yell, but he just greedily swallows my screams into kisses.

With the help of the blood drinking, it didn’t take long for me to tobble in my pleasure. I was shaking as I reached it, his tongue licking my lips as I was holding onto his as hard as I could. His fingers left me as I sigh, leaning against the wall as I watch him lick at his hand that was covered in my juices. He moans, looking at me with a grin. “Delicious in more way than one.”

“We should do this again sometime,” I mumble, causing him to just laugh.

“What, come to the roof to have some fun,” He says, pretending ignorance to what I mean.

“Well if it helps it’s not the first time I’ve been finger blasted on a roof-”

“Somehow, not shocking,” Minseok says with a small laugh.

“But it most certainly is the best time,” I say with a smile as I pull my shorts up.

“Thank you,” Minseok says smiling, “Now I’m not constantly hungry!”

“No, thank you,” I say with a grin, “Now, I think we best get back to work.”

“Booze won’t serve itself I suppose,” He says, agreeing.

I laugh, opening the door and, after a quick trip to the bathroom, proceeded to pull creeps off of people and watch people do many different things I’ve never even seen before. All in all, a great first day of this bizarre special week.

[ludling]

I’m literally shaking with rage right now.

So a friend of mine, that I was super close to in the last winter lockdown esp., just messaged to say she’s sick of my lack of communication, and that she feels very stressed about our relationship right now. Which was a complete fucking shock to me, because when we saw each other last week, all was hunky-dory, we played darts together and had a late lunch.

Anyway, last winter lockdown got a bit weird tbr. It was almost like we were married for a minute there, that’s how much time we spent together. And she put a stop to that-- saying she needed a bit of distance from me, so no sleeping in the same bed, etc, etc. Then she got a huge crush on her annoying straight-girl roommate, and I was like fine, the bitch is cute, but she’s a dickhead, which my friend, in classic dyke love, didn’t want to see.

Cut to the summer. We had a weird falling out, because I couldn’t physically stand to be around her and the straight girl anymore, plus everything she did was starting to annoy me, so I ghosted her pretty hard. Then we kind of patched it up in the autumn, had a few heart-to-hearts, she met a great actual lesbian chick, who has now been her girlfriend for a few months. They’re so in love it’s ridiculous and very sweet.

But once every few months she sends me one of these ‘pack-your-bags-we’re-going-on-a-guilttrip’ messages. ‘Why don’t you ever reply’ etc. Bitch I reply at least 24 hours late to everyone in my life because i A) hate that you have to be available at all times to everyone in the modern world, and B) because that’s who I am. Fuck. It has nothing to do with how much I like anyone.

But what sends me in this whole situation, is that she wants a level of communication from me that you’d have with a partner. Which I am not. I’m not her girlfriend, or her wife, or even her best friend even anymore, and she keeps trying to guilt me into giving her an amount of myself, that I just cannot give anyone right now (see depression, new job, the continued stress of the pandemic), especially not somebody who has THAT MANY people in her life. Like talk to your nine weird housemates who are all in three kinds of therapy?! Talk to your GIRLFRIEND!?! Why do I have to do the heavy emotional lifting, when I am so much more alone than she is? I don’t want the weird sexless platonic marriage with a woman again. I have done that and it was AWFUL and DRAINING.

Anyway. She’s now sent a text that we should ‘take some time to think about the others perspective’ and I’m starting to think the only perspective that will solve this, is us not being friends anymore.

[thefirstraey]

Emotions and Tiredness

I'm tired of feeling this way. I'm sick of talking about my emotions, especially when no one is paying attention. I'm sick of blaming people or my past for who I am today. It fucking sucks because I can see how every stupid thing I do now and every emotion I feel or have felt are the result of something that happened when I was a kid. Some memories are still fresh in my mind, but others I have no recollection of. Those memories were hidden somewhere deep within my mind. I'm not sure. I don't give a damn anymore.

I could show all kinds of contempt and sadness in front of them and they wouldn't bat an eye because nobody in this house cares about emotions. We're just housemates, or maybe landlords and tenants with good relationships. They give me money and whatever I want, but not support, affection and affirmation. Yes, the latter is more appropriate.

Everything goes to hell if I lose control–my friendships dynamic shifts, my family start walking on eggshells around me. Plus, the last time that happened, no one knew what to do with me. In fact, I was guilt-tripped into thinking that I wasn't allowed to be upset or angry because no one likes it. And that wasn't even the worst of it. I've never shown them true rage, so they haven't seen that side of me, yet.

When people are in pain and in need of support, I rush to their aid. I put everything else aside. I absorb their emotions and problems. I bring them to my sleep. I didn't dare to leave them because I'd be the one who ended up feeling sad because I understand how awful it felt to be left alone when you're in desperate need of care. When it's me, however, no one cares to return the same energy. I've never truly felt loved. I believe people like me because I am an extension of what they believe they should care about.

I simply simply hate how empathetic I am–how quickly I detect people's emotions and energy changes. I let their energy deplete my own. I got so caught up in theirs that I forgot their emotions weren't mine to bear. But, on the other hand, I despise people who have everything a person should have but still complain. This made me a hypocrite. It frustrates me. I hate it.

I'm incredibly conscious of others. I crave for validation. I'm still looking for support and guidance. Someone to save me. I'm not pleased with myself. I don't think I'm loved. I'm well aware that I have a huge responsibility to set an example, but I'm at a loss for what to do. I know a lot of things, but none of them are relevant. My memory is fading, and my attention span is worsening. My relationship with God is basically non-existent. I'm trapped in my own thoughts, in a loop with no way out. My harshest critic is none other than myself. I'm unhappy with everything.

[just-come-baek]

Chills, Scares, and Cold Sweat

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader ft. a pinch of platonic Yoonmin and implied Kryber

Themes: smut | angst | haunted house!au

Word count: 12.7k

Summary: Ghosts and demons don’t exist, so how bad can it really get? In the worst case scenario, we’ll end up on YouTube screaming like a bunch of pussies. Taehyung’s words, not mine.

Warnings: late BTS Halloween special! Scary! (Not really) Backseat smut!

Masterlist

Okay, chill, you got this, I delivered myself a mental pep talk, as I stood in front of the house, my grip tightened around the suitcase handle, head high. The sun had already descended behind the horizon, grey skies casting a spine-chilling aura, the thick fog only intensifying the effect, putting everyone into long-awaited Halloween's mood.

The last days of October are just like that; everyone is hyped about Halloween, preparing slutty costumes, throwing amazing, unforgettable parties, trick-or-treating, and, obviously, scaring the shit out of friends, sometimes even posting the horrendous pranks online.

This year, though, my Halloween was going to be different. Not necessarily better, but definitely not like all the previous ones. I mean... it's not an everyday occurrence to participate in a paranormal experiment. Or in other words, being locked up in a supposedly haunted house for a couple of days. Thankfully, they pay quite handsomely, and I seriously need this money.

What's the worst that could happen?

It's not like demons or ghosts or other spooky creations exist.

That’s what I call; easy money.

With lips pressed together in a thin line, back straightened, I made a confident step toward the house; only to shriek a second later when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Instantly, I turned around, my hands raised in a defensive manner, ready to attack whoever dared to touch and frighten me out of wits.

“Your backpack is so cute,” stated the man around my age, beaming, his boxy smile making everything brighter. “It has those cute kitten ears,” he added, his hands stretched, as if he wanted to touch it, “utterly cute.”

“Don’t sneak up on people like that,” I preached, my palm firmly pressed against my rib cage, my heart beating rapidly, as he almost put me through a severe heart attack. “Anyway,” I started dismissively, “are you participating in the, hmm... project as well?”

Smiling down at me from under his hood, he nodded, “of course, I’m Taehyung, and you are?” he introduced himself, his arm outstretched, so I could shake hands with him. Quickly, I greeted him and gave him my name, his wide beam never fading. “It’s gonna be so much fun, isn’t it?”

“It depends on what you’re into,” I promptly replied, giving him a faint smile, “if you like being conned and pranked, since this ‘experiment‘,” I didn’t hesitate to draw a quotation marks in the air with my fingers, “is obviously some kind of a sick hoax taken to a completely different level then yes, it’s gonna be a blast,” I grinned innocently, studying his expression.

“Oh,” he pouted slightly, “so you’re a disbeliever. Interesting,” Taehyung spoke, and I could feel his glance on me, as he looked at me from head to toe.

“What about you? Do you seriously believe in all of that crap?” I asked, my eyebrow cocked upwards, as I impatiently anticipated his reply. He’s something; if he really thinks that horror monsters are real, it’ll surely be interesting. “I mean... whatever is gonna pop out of nowhere must be staged.”

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen; in the worst case scenario, we’ll end up on YouTube screaming like a bunch of pussies.” Taehyung replied, shooting me another smile, as he rubbed his hands in excitement. “We probably should get inside, I think we’re late.”

“Right,” I agreed, and Taehyung quickly grabbed my suitcase, “thanks.”

The porch squeaked the moment we stepped on it; from the outside the house looked terrible, only still in one piece due to a magical spell cast upon it; maybe even a curse, given the particular time of a year and sinister atmosphere around. From the inside, it didn't present any better.

“Finally,” a voice said as Taehyung grabbed the knob and pushed the doors wide open, a loud creak announcing our arrival. Slowly, he looked from above his tablet, his lips arched into a polite smile, his dimples on full display. “I started to think that you guys ditched,” he added, clearly glad that he was mistaken.

“Are you kidding me? Pass on such a sweet deal? Never,” I quickly assured him, as I accepted his hand shake when he greeted us, “nice to meet you, too, Namjoon.”

“Okay, before we start anything, you both have to sign this up,” Namjoon announced, showing us the terms of the agreement which were roughly thirty pages long, “basically, it states that we can record anything that happens here, and use it for further research. Also, we do not take any responsibility for any damage caused during your stay.”

Taehyung scrolled through the pages, his eyes moving quickly from left to right as he quickly skimmed the text, reading one every five words.

“Sounds legit,” he commented, as he looked at Namjoon, “where do I sign?”

“Just draw your signature with your finger at the bottom of the page,” Namjoon instructed Taehyung, the latter leaving an illegible squiggle under the date.

“Are you for real?” I asked, still unable to process what Taehyung just did. Did he seriously endorse the contract without thoroughly reading it first? Is he that reckless and irresponsible? For all we know, they could have a permit to legally harvest his organs, or worse.

“Don’t worry, there isn’t anything funny, it’s a routine procedure.” Namjoon reassured me, his arm outstretched toward me, the blank space at the bottom of the page waiting to be signed.

“Fuck it, let’s do it,” I replied casually before I left my signature in the right place. Right now, I seriously needed this money, even if the contract consisted of something I was against, it’s not like Namjoon had time to renegotiate the terms with me; it’s either all or nothing, and I really didn't want to leave empty-handed.

“Okay,” Namjoon locked his tablet, “since we got this covered, you guys must want a short tour around the house,” he simply stated, mentioning for us to follow him and carefully listen to him. Taehyung and I looked at each other, and he let me go first, as he slowly trailed behind me.

The reconnaissance was quite short; Namjoon showed us round the house and introduced us to the four fellow housemates. At the very end of the tour, he led us down the corridor, telling which room was whose. Mine happened to be across from Taehyung’s, squeezed between Jimin’s and Amber’s.

“I should get going,” Namjoon stated, as he glimpsed at his smart-watch, “shit, I’m late,” he added, his eyes roaming around the house as if he was in a panic. “Anyway, see you all on Wednesday.”

"What took you so long?" Taehyung asked as I walked downstairs to the living room. "And here I thought a ghost already ate your disbelieving ass," he snickered, and I immediately stuck out my tongue at him before I politely bowed at the rest and sat on the couch beside Taehyung since he's the one I was the most familiar with; Namjoon had introduced them to me, yet their names slipped my mind almost as soon as I heard them.

"Yeah, totally," I deadpanned, slightly jabbing Taehyung's side; that boy had it coming, why did he look so astonished? "Anyway, I have a treat for all of you," I started, as I placed a plastic bag filled with Chinese fortune cookies.

"Did you rob a Chinese restaurant on your way here?" A man with golden, fluffy hair smiled and reached for the ziplock bag, taking a cookie.

"No, but it's a funny story, actually." I started, obtaining his attention before he managed to crack the cookie and read whatever wisdom was inked inside. "I used to write quotes for the fortune cookies; the manager wanted them to be original and I kind of got carried away. In the end, I got fired."

"What does it say?" Taehyung asked, wondering what could be written there, as he couldn't imagine what kind of sentence could anger the manager to the point of wanting to sack me. "Come on, Jimin, read it out loud!" He encouraged, when the man scanned the piece of paper, his eyes squinted, trying to decipher the message in a tiny font.

"Oh my God, this is gold," Jimin declared, as he strived to refrain himself from ugly-laughing. "You will die alone and poorly dressed," Jimin read, and Taehyung almost choked when he heard the fortune. "Geez, thanks, that's exactly what I wanted to get."

"She must really possess some kind of power, I mean... what are those?" Taehyung asked angrily, as he pointed at Jimin's hideous sneakers. Everyone laughed at Taehyung's remark, and Jimin stuck his tongue out, acting calm and collected, although he couldn't understand the criticism; they were incredibly comfortable, who really cared that they were last season?

"I want one, too." A woman in boyish clothing interjected Taehyung before he got to diss Jimin more, and reached for the bag, eager to read her fortune. "Life is a symphony, and you are playing the kazoo," she read out loud, "why would anyone fire you for that? This is ridiculous; if anything, you should get a raise!"

Later that night, we're still chilling in the living room; demonic presence never making oneself known. It was just a simple get-together; six people in their twenties, a bag of delicious unfortunate cookies and a bottle of rum passed among them.

"Okay, let's lay our cards on the table," Taehyung started casually, wriggling on the couch beside me, brushing his thighs against mine all the time. "What made you guys take part in this? You go first Jimin," he asked with curiosity, his body leaned forward, his elbows digging into his thighs, waiting for the reply patiently, his eyes fixated on Jimin.

"The girl I have a crush on just got together with my friend, and I didn't feel like third-wheeling them, especially when they're in that honeymoon phase," Jimin stated, gladly accepting the bottle of alcohol Yoongi offered him. It wasn't easy for him, but hopefully participating in this experiment would take it off his mind. "Fuck couples," he added, and raised the bottle, taking another gulp.

"Salute to that!" I cheered, smiling at Jimin, completely supporting his views on relationships. It was solely envy speaking, but yeah, fuck couples!

"What about you Amber?" Taehyung inquired, as he looked at the girl, the bottle of alcohol in her hands.

"Actually, I'm just tagging along. Krystal wanted to go, because she thought her Instagram followers would love it, and I'm just accompanying her."

"That's true," Krystal suddenly interjected, tearing her eyes off the screen, "and they just love it," she added, every word just beautifully rolling off her tongue, "by the end of the experiment, the number of my followers will at least double."

Taehyung nodded his head, registering all the new information about other participants. "Yoongi?"

"Boredom, I guess." Yoongi answered dismissively, drinking alcohol as if it was water. "Also, I've been told I am dead inside, so hopefully, this near-death experience will stir some emotions within me." He added, placing an empty bottle on the carpet, "have any of you brought booze?" He asked, looking at fellow participants, hoping he wasn't the only one who had thought about getting wasted.

"I have," I quickly replied, unconsciously raising my hand as if I was still in high school, "but it's clear vodka, and I don't think we should drink it straight from the bottle," I added, and everyone except Yoongi agreed with me with a simple nod.

"I'll grab the cups and some juice, and you go get the alcohol," Taehyung proposed, and quickly, we stood up and went our separate ways to get what all of us needed. Within two minutes, we got back to the living room; swiftly pouring the drinks, each different with accordance to one's request.

"What about you, kitten?" Taehyung carried on, his gaze fixated on me, our cups clinking in a simple toast. Refraining myself from cringing at the nickname he had given me, I smiled at him and cleared my throat.

"I want to throw an amazing birthday party, and invite all of my friends, but I don't have money, so I signed up for this." I sincerely confessed, all of them staring at me, since mine reason must've been the most trivial one. "What about you, huh?" I boldly asked Taehyung, alcohol in my system giving me confidence and courage.

"What about me?" Taehyung questioned stupidly, grinning at me like an idiot, "Aww, look at your blush, is it me, or the alcohol?"

"Alcohol, definitely alcohol," I answered immediately, being perfectly aware that my cheeks turned scarlet red whenever I was drinking. I was attracted to Taehyung, but it didn't have anything to do with my blush at the moment; it was solely alcohol. "What about you? Are you avoiding my question?"

"I'm not, I just like teasing you," Taehyung stated, leaning forward, and I automatically lay back a little. He surprised me with all the attention he gave me, but I just didn't want to openly flirt with Taehyung in front of everyone. I hated PDA, and even Taehyung's handsome being wouldn't change that. "But to answer your question, I guess I joined the experiment because I felt like it?" Taehyung said, yet his statement came out as a question, almost as if he didn't know how to explain his decision. "I mean... I thought it'd be cool to try something new."

"Okay, since we've already established why we're here, why don't we get drunk?" Jimin spoke, trying to change the subject for which I was much than simply glad, considering the way Taehyung stared at me, waiting for a perfect moment to strike again with his playful remarks.

"Finally!" Yoongi cheered, as he reached for his cup and a fortune cookie. "You are all going to die here," Yoongi read the sentence with furrowed eyebrows, and I almost choked on my drink in horror; I didn't particularly memorise all the quotes, but I was certain that I hadn't written that. "Spooky."

"Are you okay?" Taehyung asked in concern, as he hit my back gently, evidently worried about me, yet intrigued by my reaction. "What's the matter?"

"It wasn't funny, Yoongi," I reprimanded the man, obviously not amused by his prank.

"I don't understand," Yoongi replied, his eyebrow cocked in a questioning manner, as he had no clue what made me act the way I did. "What wasn't funny?"

"The note," I quickly said, pointing my finger at the piece of paper lying on the coffee table, "I didn't write that."

"Who did, then?" He challenged, and I immediately reached for the note, eager to see what was written there. Yoongi's prank wasn't humorous, not even the tiniest bit. Quickly, I flipped the note in my hands, squinting my eyes as I tried to read it in my tipsy state. What threw me off first was the font; the one I held in my hands was hand-written, whereas the ones I had written were not. Someone was messing with me, yet I couldn't really tell who. It had to be one of the fellow participants, it couldn't be a ghost, obviously.

"You guys are the worst," I whined, crumpling the note in my hands, not giving them the satisfaction; they tried to prank me, but it failed.

Around two a.m. we called it a night. Unfortunately, when I got to my room, I didn't feel the tiniest bit tired, my eyes were wide open, not even a single yawn leaving my mouth. Perhaps, it was alcohol that they had poured me, or the cruel prank that affected me much more than I originally thought; either way, I wasn't feeling exhausted, anticipated dream way beyond my reach.

Having kicked off my shoes, I jumped on the bed, sitting up, my back pressed against the headboard. Quickly, I unlocked my phone, keen on reading whatever I had missed during the day. Slowly, I scrolled down the content, either liking or reblogging everything that caught my attention, or made me smile. It didn't keep me busy for long, though.

"Eh," I murmured to myself, as I rolled down, lying on the sheets. The brightness of my phone was blinding me, although it was set the darkest as it was possible. Thankfully, there was a working lamp on the nightstand, which engulfed the room with tangerine, weak light.

Suddenly, I felt cold; it lasted for not longer than ten seconds, yet it was enough for goose bumps to rise in my arms. Shivering, I turned my head toward the window, the curtain fluttering in the chilly breeze. It was strange, especially when I didn't leave it open. Sighing, I jumped off the bed and walked to the window to close it, only to furrow my eyebrows in confusion when I realised it was closed. There had to be a scientific explanation; the draft just didn't emerge from nothingness.

Before I got a chance to ponder the occurrence, I heard a faint knock on the doors, interrupting my train of thought. My head immediately turned, Taehyung's head picked inside my room.

"You're not asleep, thank God," he spoke casually, a sheepish smile decorating his face. Slowly, he pushed the doors open, gingerly entering my room, his pillow in his grip. "Would it be a problem if I slept here tonight?" He asked boldly, his gaze drilling holes in my eyes. "My room stinks as if someone has died in there," he clarified honestly, and I just nodded my head in comprehension.

"You can stay, I guess," I replied nonchalantly, as I wondered if I was his first choice. Didn't he prefer to stay with one of the guys? Or Krystal? Or whoever else? 

"Thanks, you're the best," Taehyung beamed at me, quickly plopping on the right side of the bed, "you're my life saver."

"No problem," I muttered and gave him a faint smile, before I turned my head around, examining the window again. It bothered me that I couldn't come up with a logical explanation, even when I knew one existed; surely it wasn't Casper the ghost, playing with the curtains for crying out loud!

"What are you doing over there?" Taehyung asked, his deep, worried voice pulling me out of my thoughts. "Have you seen a ghost? You look unhealthily pale."

"What...?" I furrowed my eyebrows, as I didn't register what exactly he asked me about. "Oh, it's really nothing. I thought I saw something, but it must be nothing. It's just the house, everybody says it's haunted, and even if I don't believe in that, it still makes me feel a bit edgy." I explained, smiling sheepishly throughout my whole reply, as I analysed his concerned expression.

"Don't worry, it's a natural reaction in these circumstances, everyone a bit scared even though they may not outwardly admit that." Taehyung assured, trying to provide me with comfort of some sort. "Hell, even I'm a little frightened." He confessed, and I let out a faint chuckle. The thing was, I wasn't scared, what I felt was confusion without any sort of fear.

I knew better than to believe in that lies Namjoon had fed us with; the supernatural beings don't exist. Period. He might've fooled the rest of them, but I had never been easy to convince.

"It's not I'm scared. Maybe a little uneasy, but that's all." I replied, striving to look as confident as I possibly could. "Anyway," I started, rubbing my hands eagerly, "do you want to check out your room?"

"Not really," quickly, he brushed me off, his body comfortably lying on my bed, his arms tightly wrapped around the pillow, his lips puckered, "when I said that it stank, I meant it. Actually, I'm pretty much surprised you can't smell it from here."

"Okay, let's just stay here." I gave in, not really trying to force him to leave. I truly liked his company, and if he wanted to stay the night, I'd let him even if nothing was going to happen. "But if you hear me talking in my sleep just ignore it, I am not being possessed." I warned him, but Taehyung just beamed at me.

"And if you feel as if a boa snake is trying to kill you, don't panic, you're not being attacked. It's just me." Taehyung announced, holding his pillow tightly between his arms.

"Sure..." I replied, sounding not convinced, "I'll remember that."

"Aren't you tired?" He asked, his head propped on his elbow, as he stared at me. I was still standing next to the window, almost as if I was too shy to lie down beside him. "It's like seriously late," he yawned loudly, not even covering his mouth.

"I was, but sometimes one moment I'm super exhausted, only to be hyper when I should go to bed." I explained, slowly approaching him, the eerie curtain occurrence almost forgotten.

"Yeah, I get it." Taehyung nodded his head, as he closed his eyes, and snuggled tightly around the sheets, making himself absolutely comfortable. "Amber must be suffering like you right now. When I was standing in front of your doors, I could swear I heard moans coming from her room. And if I'm not mistaken, they were Krystal's."

"Whoa," I said, unable to disguise my perplexed reaction. They hadn't made it obvious that they had any romantic strings between them. Moreover, if I had to tip who were in a relationship, I'd nominate Yoongi and Jimin; Krystal hadn't held Amber’s hand when rain started to hit the windows, it was Jimin who had got scared, seeking safety in Yoongi's tight grip.

"At least someone's getting some," I added absent-mindedly, the depressing thoughts of my painfully long singlehood resurfaced.

"I'm very sorry that we're not having sex right now. If I knew sooner that you're down to fuck, I'd save my energy. Not today, kitten." Taehyung teased me, his mind almost in dreamland.

"That's not what I meant!" I replied defensively, shooting him a disapproving glance, which much to my dismay, got unnoticed. "I'm thinking long-term here," I added, although I knew he wasn't listening.

"Good night, Taehyung." I whispered, as I sat on the bed beside him, ready to return to reading on my phone.

When I woke up, Taehyung was gone. Lazily rubbing my eyes, I reached for my phone to check the time and other notifications; it was past noon, and I must've been the only person still in bed. Despite a hot affair between Krystal and Amber, I doubted anyone had stayed awake to 4 o'clock to finish reading.

A loud growl of my stomach pulled me out of my thoughts, demanding food. However, no matter how hungry I was, I had to shower first.

Swiftly, I got out of bed and approached the suitcase, fishing out everything I needed: a clean set of clothes, a bathrobe, and shower necessities.

The bathroom down the hall, thankfully, wasn't occupied, so I quickly sneaked in, locking the doors from the inside.

Instantly, I noticed a camera attached to the ceiling; everybody knows that in horror movies, ghosts just love scaring the shit out of people in the bathrooms, so I can't say that I am surprised. God bless the shower curtain and toilet stall!

Once under the hot steam of water, body coated in a bath foam, I spoke in confusion, "what the fuck?" It was weird, at night, when I had gone to bed, I didn't have any bruises, yet right now, my hips and thighs were covered in a handful of dark marks. How did that happen? These weren't hickeys, obviously. I hadn't knocked into anything, either.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I stared at the marks, still unable to recall how the hell I got them. Once again, something odd happened, and I didn't have an explanation for it; perhaps I am not as smart as I thought I was.

Having pushed the bothersome thoughts aside, I swiftly finished the shower and put on my outfit which consisted of black, ripped jeans and a simple band T-shirt.

​​​"Look who we have here, the Sleeping Beauty finally came downstairs." Taehyung snickered, as soon as I entered the kitchen. Taehyung was alone, doing the dishes, while the rest lounged around the living room, either sipping coffee, or looking at their screens. "How was your sleep?" He asked, looking at me over his shoulder, sending me a simple smile.

"Short," I retorted, as I sat on the stool by the table, looking at the remains of their breakfast. "What about you?"

"I slept like a log," Taehyung admitted, as he turned off the tap and threw the sponge into the sink before he took a seat beside me.

"Taehyung, did we... you know... do anything yesterday? I have these... weird bruises, and I have no idea how I got them. We didn't sleep together, did we?" I mumbled, playing with my fingers. I realised I must've sounded crazy and confused, and thankfully, he didn't laugh at me. "It's really strange, but I seriously don't know how to explain that. I wasn't that drunk, and I was conscious the whole time." I tried to formulate a reasonable explanation, and Taehyung, despite me sounding batshit crazy, he just grabbed my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Trust me, kitten, I'd remember that." Taehyung answered playfully, rubbing his thumb against my skin in a soothing manner. "And are you sure you haven't knocked into anything?" He asked, and I shook my head confidently. "Then, it must be the house. It's haunted, remember?"

"I'm being serious here," I whined, and Taehyung tightened his grip around my fingers.

"Don't look at me like that, something's wrong about this house. At breakfast, Yoongi told me that during the night, he felt the draft in his room, although the windows and the doors were closed." Taehyung started, and I looked at him with my eyes wide open; Yoongi had experienced the same thing, and it seemed a bit too coincidental for my liking. It was strange, but it didn't mean that the house was actually haunted.

"It doesn't mean the ghost assaulted me."

"You're right, but tell me when you come up with a better explanation."

"Does anyone know the history of this house?" Amber asked out of the blue, obtaining everyone's attention. "I googled it, and it's pretty messed up."

"Better keep it to yourself, she's already paranoid," Taehyung interjected, pointing his finger at me, earning a jab between his ribs. I wasn't paranoid, I was just puzzled. "What?" He asked loudly, his grip on my wrist, protecting him from me.

"Shut up, you're not better yourself. Who came to my room yesterday? You're the scaredy-cat, just admit it." I fought back, wriggling my arms from his grasp.

"Okay, we get it, you're both chickens," Yoongi commented, as he gave us a judging look. "What does it say?"

"Basically, whoever moves in dies." Amber summed up, as everyone stared at her, eagerly waiting for more details. "The legend says that the family who built this house was brutally murdered by robbers. It is believed the man, right before his death, swore to take vengeance on anybody who comes inside."

"That story's lame," Krystal criticized, shaking her head in disappointment, "I can't believe that's what you came up with, pathetic."

"I didn't come up with anything!" Amber defended herself, but Krystal didn't seem the tiniest bit convinced. "I found this article from a couple of years ago, and it says that over twenty people died in here; adults and kids, everyone cruelly butchered, no survivors. Just read it yourself." She sat up and stretched her hand, passing her phone to Krystal.

"Still lame."

In the evening, when Yoongi found a stash of alcohol, the atmosphere loosened up; no one was thinking about the urban legend, our minds hazy.

"Do you guys wanna play? Krystal and I deserve a break," Amber asked, as she pointed at the table where Yoongi and Jimin were refilling cups for another round of beer pong.

"Sure," Taehyung replied for the both of us, as he smiled at Amber and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the couch. "Come on, kitten, we're gonna fucking destroy them," he added, and I shook my head at Taehyung's confidence. I didn't doubt his skills, mine, however, left a lot to be desired. Especially, when I was already after a couple of drinks.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Tae," Jimin warned, as he smirked at us, "we crushed them, and we're most definitely gonna crush you."

"I probably should tell you that I, Kim Taehyung, have never lost, not even once, at beer pong." With a hand pressed against his heart, Taehyung admitted, while I tried to fight the urge to start laughing at his serious approach. He wasn't going to play to have fun, he was going to beat them out.

"What about you, kitten?" Yoongi asked in a mocking tone, infuriating me even more with that annoying nickname he had caught on from Taehyung.

"What about me? You better worry about yourself because Taehyung and I will beat the crap out of you." I exclaimed and high-fived Taehyung before we cheered together, being confident about our victory. Hopefully, Taehyung had his self-proclaimed skills, otherwise, we're pretty much screwed.

"Feisty." Yoongi hissed under his breath, a lopsided smirk decorating his face. "In that case, we should arrange a bet; what do you think?"

"Bring it on," Taehyung replied confidently, as he sent a determined glare at Yoongi and Jimin, "what's the punishment gonna be?"

"We'll have that figured out by the end of the match, okay?"

Having cracked my knuckles, and heaved a sigh, the game started, me being the first one to throw the ball, as the boys insisted that ladies first. Surprisingly, I managed to score for our team; unfortunately, it was the first and also last point I notched up. Amongst the four of us, Taehyung was definitely the best player, yet with my awful contribution, it wasn't enough to win against them.

"In your face!"

"There's a first time for everything, Tae!" Jimin mocked, as he approached our side of the table, and patted Taehyung's shoulder with artificial care. "What are we gonna make them do, Yoongs?"

"Don't worry, shit happens." Taehyung spoke, trying to cheer me up when Yoongi and Jimin were conferring our punishment. "It's not a big deal."

"Sorry, Tae. It's all my fault. If you want I can do the punishment alone. It's fine with me."

With everlasting smile upon his face, he shook his head. Of course, he'd do that, given how much of a sweetheart I knew he was.

"Don't be ridiculous," Taehyung spoke, as he spared me a short glance before he focused on Jimin and Yoongi who're bending their backs backward, desperate to come up with a sinister punishment.

"Today's Halloween, maybe we should send them to the basement. If the ghosts don't hunt them down, we'll know that Namjoon has been bullshitting the whole time." Jimin announced, and Yoongi enthusiastically clapped his hands and nodded his head, agreeing with Jimin's idea.

"Oh my God," Krystal whined and rolled her eyes, as she took a short break from her Instagram profile, "you guys are so lame! Unbelievably uncreative. A sponge would generate a better punishment."

Krystal was right; the guys didn't possess even a whit of creativity. They were also dicks, picking a dull cliché from every horror movie ever. Going to the basement with Taehyung wasn't a problem to me, yet when Jimin and Yoongi opted for clichés, I'd rather make out with my game partner. Their idea was neutral, and I didn't really mind spicing things up.

Hopefully, Taehyung didn't either.

"Just let them, they tried their best," Taehyung replied casually, yet I didn't miss the sly, subtle smirk that he sent me. He was up to something; it was obvious, and although I didn't know anything about his revenge plan, I could only assume that Yoongi and Jimin would regret messing with us. Or at least, making fun of us. "It's really nothing, we'll crush them in the next round. It was just a warm-up."

"Yeah... sure....," Yoongi hissed, sounding unconvinced, as he knew we didn't stand a chance to win against them. Not in the next round. Not ever.

"Finish your drink, Tae." Jimin said casually, as he looked at Taehyung's cup which was half full.

As soon as Taehyung emptied his cup with only three gulps, Yoongi and Jimin walked us to the basement doors, eloquently calling our mission 'Seven Minutes in Hell'. Frankly, despite all the alcohol in my blood, it still made me cringe.

"Okay, what was about that look?" I asked straightforwardly when the doors closed behind us, Taehyung and I in the embrace of darkness, occasional squeaks of the floor above us heard whenever someone moved.

"What look?" Taehyung asked, as he batted his eyelashes at me, trying to trick me into believing in his innocence. I had caught his smirk, he couldn't deny it, and I wouldn't fall for that. He was definitely up to something.

"Don't act like an idiot, Tae. That look, I know you have some sort of a revenge plan." I explained, and although I couldn't see his face, I knew he was smirking. We're going to bite back at Jimin and Yoongi, and if he really thought I'd step back, he was awfully mistaken. We didn't know each other very well, but the playful competitiveness that had surrounded us fueled me even more, not really wanting to stop the battle now. It was fun, and I couldn't stop. Taehyung had to feel the same way.

"Well... I can't say I have a particular idea in my mind, but it would be funny if we managed to pull a prank on them, don't you think?" He started, and I nodded my head, agreeing with him. It was harmless. Moreover, the house was obviously a ghost-free zone, they deserved to experience something exciting. If the ghost didn't want to scare them, Taehyung and I would take care of it instead. "Do you have an idea? Hopefully, you don't lack creativity as much as Yoongi and Jimin do."

"I don't know, we don't have much time left," I spoke, as I reached into the back pocket of my jeans to pull my phone, getting blinded by its brightness. "We have like six minutes, I doubt we manage to pull out an epic prank. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

This time, I was the one who had a lopsided smirk upon my face, "let's see," I spoke casually, as I grabbed Taehyung's hand and led him downstairs, trying to omit random objects which were scattered all over the place.

"Do think that's where all these people died?" Taehyung asked, as he followed behind me, his warm hand resting in mine, his gaze focused on the back of my head.

"No, of course, not. If anything, I'd bet they were killed in our beds." I replied casually, and Taehyung tightened his grip, as he heard my statement. I'm not surprised, it came much darker than I originally intended.

"That's really messed up," Taehyung muttered under his breath, obviously crept out by my bold remark. Damn it, I really should've known when to bite my tongue and just shut up. Even if I had the slightest chance to get it on with Taehyung, I just botched it up. The prospect of any form of intimacy just sank like a stone. "Why would you even say that?"

"Sorry, sometimes I forget it's not the Internet, and that I just can't say whatever comes to my mind." I replied, smiling at him sheepishly, knowing the situation I put myself in was miserable, and it couldn't get any worse. At this point, Satan himself could crack the surface of the Earth and set my dumb ass on fire, and I'd probably thank him for saving me from this embarrassment.

And since I was already a lost cause, I could play a little prank on him.

Abruptly, I turned off the flashlight on my phone, yanked my hand out of Taehyung's grip, and screamed, sounding quite naturally. No wonder, given how many times I had popped out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of my brother. Just as I expected, the second the light went out, Taehyung let out a shriek, which was followed by a fit of my laughter. Taehyung and the guys upstairs must've just lost their minds, some of them maybe even convinced that a vengeful spirit just finished us off.

"Holy shit, it wasn't funny." Taehyung gasped with a hand pressed against his chest when I switched on the flashlight. He looked utterly terrified, and I seriously felt like the worst person in the world. Maybe I really was the worst person in the world, yet the temptation was way too strong to fight. I couldn't waste this chance. "You almost got me a heart attack!"

"Sorry," I apologised, trying to refrain from giggling, even though it was truly difficult; his voice normally is really deep and raspy, yet just a while ago he didn't sound like himself. I wouldn't be surprised if the guys thought that high-pitched wail belonged to me. "You have to understand me, though. You'd do the same, you wouldn't be able to fight that sort of whim."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Taehyung agreed, scratching the back of his head, as he admitted his playful intentions. "I'm still angry, though. I almost pissed my pants, you know..."

"Sorry, but look at the bright side; you're gonna be prepared when the real ghost conjures up in front of you." I expounded, yet Taehyung didn't buy it. I just knew it, and the skeptical look he was giving me only validated my point. "Ugh, fine, let's make a deal. If anything supernatural happens, I'll shield you with my very own chest. Let's say, it's my token of atonement, okay?"

"Not okay," Taehyung crossed his hands across his chest, as he flat out rejected my proposition. That was unexpected. Who normal would pass on such a sweet deal? "First of all, it'd really hurt my ego if a girl jumped between me and a fucking ghost. That's highly unnecessary, kitten. It'd much rather you kissed it better." Taehyung asserted, as he poked his cheek with his long, slender forefinger.

I couldn't believe he actually said that; I thought he hated me.

Because of me we had lost the beer pong game. Moreover, I was the one who had made him scream like a little girl. Was he attracted to me the way I was attracted to him? Was he so interested in me that he actually was capable of turning a blind eye to me basically doing a one-eighty to his image?

"You're serious?" I asked, my eyebrows raised, as I still couldn't process that he, I'll be jiggered, requested a kiss.

Immediately, his gaze met mine, and I just couldn't look away. I was irrationally fascinated by him, and he, surprise, surprise, reciprocated my attraction.

"What? You don't want to?" Taehyung inquired, heaving a sigh.

Normally, I'd panic and lie, fleeing from the basement as soon as I could. Right now, however, I didn't even think about escaping. I just stood there, gawking at him, digesting his words. It still felt surreal; my cheeks probably scarlet red by now, his eyebrows furrowed in anticipation.

What the hell was I thinking? I had to be an idiot; why, on Earth, was I pondering over his statement? I ought to have smashed my lips against his the second he prodded his cheek. The guys could call us any minute; we didn't have much time, why the fuck was I wasting it?

Having come to my senses, I eagerly took a step forward, his arms wrapping around my waist the second I was within his reach. Nothing really happened yet, but my heart was already beating abnormally in excitement. Taehyung had amazing influence on me, or was it the consumed alcohol? Either way, I wanted him, and Good Lord, I should not have been satiated with just a peck!

"You know what to do, kitten," Taehyung urged, and I rolled my eyes at the nickname which I heard like the hundredth time tonight. It was really irritating, yet I just couldn't formulate a witty remark, as my mind completely shut off once I found myself in Taehyung's embrace. Almost as if we were in our personal bubble where nothing mattered, the sinister surroundings long forgotten.

Gently, I placed my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his cheek.

"That's not even a kiss, do it properly," he whined, his fingers delicately digging into my skin, as he pulled me closer. Immediately, I replied with a smirk, trailing innocent pecks across his cheek, only to hover my lips over his, enjoying teasing him. If we went any further, I wouldn't be able to stop myself. For a short while, Taehyung and I looked into each other's eyes, as we breathed the same air, tinges of lust racing between our bodies.

"Kitten," he started, as he licked his lips, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against my lips.

"Hmm?"

Slowly, I closed my eyes and leaned in; Taehyung's lips were incredibly soft when he moved against me. It wasn't anything extraordinary, yet it felt just heavenly; no tongue, no biting, no sucking—it was just a kiss in the simplest of forms. Why did he taste so marvelous, then?

It must've been his natural charm, as no other explanation came to my mind.

Gradually, I started to trace the outline of his lips with my tongue, and Taehyung responded by slightly opening his mouth, welcoming my tongue with his. Taehyung's hands roamed around my body, squeezing my hips and drawing small circles with his fingers on my skin. I, on the other hand, was pressed against his frame, my breasts rubbing against his chest, his thigh between my legs.

"Mmn..." I purred quietly, when I pulled away for a second to catch a breath. "You're an amazing kisser, Tae," I confessed and immediately captured his lips in a heated kiss, slipping my tongue inside his mouth. Taehyung instantly replied with a grunt, as he grabbed my bottom and gripped it, excitingly yanking me toward him, the outline of his semi-hard cock poking against my stomach.

No matter how long we made out; lust only amplified with each passing second. Taehyung tasted so addicting, it completely shut off my brain. I could only focus on the kiss and ways how to prolong it; the revenge plan the last thing on our minds.

My excuses went down the drain at once, as Jimin's worried voice echoed, his head stuck through the doors.

"You dead?"

Ever since we left the basement, Taehyung and I kept stealing glances at each other; the kiss had been amazing, and neither of us wished to pull away. However, we both felt quite uncomfortable making out in front of the rest. (Or was it just me, and Taehyung just didn't want to force me into anything. Especially when I confessed it was me who had shrieked at the top of my voice when I had thought I saw a ghost.)

Taehyung owes me.

Big time.

The tension between us was driving me crazy. It was utterly ridiculous how much I craved to return to Taehyung's embrace to score every base with him. Shamelessly, I needed his arms on me, bending me to his will as he wished.

"God, I'm so bored," Yoongi whined, as he locked his phone and rubbed his eyes. "I'll just go to sleep. Wake me up when a ghost decides to show up."

"Maybe, it's not that bad of an idea," Amber commented, yawning ostentatiously.

"That's official, this is definitely the worst Halloween party ever," Krystal criticized, looking around the room, everyone either exhausted or drunk. (In Yoongi's case, both.) "At least, I am being paid to be here."

​​​​​"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Taehyung asked, sounding confused and disappointed at the same time. True, we hadn't witnessed any paranormal activity, yet it didn't necessarily mean that the party was horrible.

It was fun.

Especially my time alone with Taehyung.

​​​​​"We're all tired, Tae." Jimin said casually, smiling at the latter, as he didn't want to hurt his feelings. "I don't know what about you, but I couldn't fall asleep; I didn't blink an eye yesterday."​​​​

"Fine," Taehyung groaned, plopping down onto the couch beside Krystal, "it's just that Namjoon will come get us in the morning, and we will probably never meet each other again. I thought it'd be fun if we used the time we have to the fullest. You're like seriously an awesome entourage."

Taehyung's words stung. The really stung, and although I didn't get to know them as thoroughly as I wanted to, I knew I'd miss them. Everyone was different in many ways, and we, as a group, complemented perfectly.

Also, I didn't particularly delude myself; I knew that Taehyung would be a very short chapter of my life, and despite that, I still felt bitter that tomorrow we would go our separate ways and never see each other again.

When everyone went to their rooms, Taehyung let out a heavy sign, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "are you going to go, too?" he asked, as he changed his position, leaning in, his elbows pressed against his thighs, his eyes seeking mine, almost begging me to stay.

"No," I firmly replied, sending him a faint smile. I wasn't going anywhere; Taehyung was right, we didn't have much time left, and I didn't want to leave him. "I'm not even the tiniest bit tired," I stated, as I stood up, and approached him, sitting down beside him. Our little moment in the basement was more than just energizing; it was so refreshing I couldn't remember when I felt this good.

"Thank you, kitten," he spoke softly, and grabbed my hand, placing a gentle peck on my knuckles, "so what do you want to do?" he inquired, turning to me, resting his head in his hand, as he propped his shoulder on the backrest. "I believe we were interrupted just a while ago," he remembered, and with a lopsided smirk upon his face, he leaned slowly forward.

"Yeah, we were," I agreed, yet just when he was about to kiss me, I pressed my forefinger against his lips, stopping him. Quickly, Taehyung arched his back and looked at me in confusion; I had to be out of my character to push him away. "You have no idea how much I want us to continue wherever we left off, but look around, Tae, cameras are all over the place. Namjoon pays quite handsomely, but it's not enough for my sex tape."

Taehyung laughed.

Loudly.

"Oh, kitten, you amuse me so much," he added, and I sulked. Was my assumption really that far-fetched? That hurt — a lot. "Hey, hey, hey, it's not what I meant, please, don't brood. It's just that I don't sleep around, kitten."

"I don't either," quickly, I replied, making him smile again, yet at this point, I couldn't tell what it meant. "I really want to fuck you right now, though."

His smile disappeared only to be replaced with lustful glance, his eyes slowly undressing me.

Abruptly, he stood up and yanked me with him, "my car's in the driveway."

The second we entered the car, I slammed my lips against his in a fervent, needy kiss; our disappointingly short make out session had only ignited fire with me, and I immediately had to share it with Taehyung before I completely burned out.

"I'm not really that kind of a guy," Taehyung defended himself when he managed to pull away. I had my hands on his broad shoulders, my fingers slowly roaming around his neck, giving him the best massage I was capable of.

"I know, you've already said that," I simply stated and smiled at him before reconnecting our mouth again in another passionate lock. "I'm not that kind of a girl, either, but I really want you, so why the hell not?"

Taehyung didn't need another assurance. I just gave him a green light to do whatever he wanted to do, and he couldn't be more ecstatic about it. His mouth could be shut, but his eyes were pure sin, glancing at me with utter lust.

"Oh, kitten," Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back against the headrest. He was enjoying it, although I barely touched him. "I don't deserve you," he added before he formed a pleased smirk.

He was wrong, though.

I didn't deserve him.

However, it didn't stop either of whom to take what we really wanted. We desired each other, itching to reach that high together, even though we knew it wasn't the right thing to do.

"Shut up, Tae," I reprimanded him, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. "Are we doing this or not?" I challenged him and before I managed to take a breath, Taehyung kissed me quite desperately. His hands stretched and landed on my sides, as he pulled me onto him, his cock poking against my stomach.

"I'd never forgive myself if I rejected you," Taehyung stated in a serious tone, his eyes fixated on me as if he was going to eat me alive. His stare was of a starved predator, and I was about to devote myself to him, willing to obey his every, even the kinkiest one, command.

"I'd never forgive myself if I let you reject me," I snickered and rocked my hips against him, earning a throaty moan from him. His cock, still restrained in his jeans, was throbbing for more friction, yet he'd have to wait for the main course a bit more.

I loved foreplay and I wasn't going to give up on that, even when I ridiculously wanted to feel him inside of me. My patience was going to be rewarded, it always is.

"Not even once it struck me you're such a bad girl," he spoke with a smirk, as he kneaded my ass cheeks when I was busy raking my finger across his chest and peppering his jaw and neck with damp kisses, nipping on his skin in an urge to mark him.

"Because I am not. I just met a guy who brings the worst out of me," I teased, and Taehyung tightened his grip on my sides, giving me a slight spank.

"I wouldn't say the worst... I kinda like that new image of you," Taehyung confessed, and I smiled shyly, quickly hiding my face in the crook of his neck, leaving stamps of my plum lipstick on his skin.

"Oh, Taehyung," I breathed out, as I unbuckled his jeans and put my hands in his pants.

Taehyung hissed the second I touched him, "damn, your hands are fucking cold!"

He was right, yet I was certain they would warm up quickly with a few strokes on his rock-hard cock. "Better?" I asked when his lips turned into a pleased smirk.

"You have no idea," he murmured, his eyes close shut, as he completely focused on my gentle touch, caressing his sensitive skin. Right now, I felt so powerful, straddling him; his body was reacting to even the slightest movement of my hand. "Kitten," Taehyung murmured on the exhale, as he grabbed my bottom and forced me onto him, so I fell on his chest, nuzzling my nose in his neck.

Uncontrollably, I giggled, and Taehyung stretched his arm, turning on the radio, and although I didn't mind the current mood, the soft ballad that filled the vehicle created a semi-romantic setting.

Without any comment, Taehyung looked me in the eyes, as he unzipped my jeans and forced his hand in my panties. "You're so wet, kitten," he snickered, and I rolled my eyes at his obvious statement. If only he knew I had been this excited for him ever since our kiss in the basement.

"Don't blame me, I really want to feel that cock inside of me," I stated nonchalantly, pulling him into another round of lustful and wanton kisses. Grunting, I slammed my lips against his, and he responded in an instant, poking his tongue against my teeth, demanding entrance.

"I'd never think you're into dirty talk," Taehyung spoke casually, as he played with my clit, flicking it between his fingers, making all my muscles tense, my hips grinding against his hand. Slowly, he ran his forefinger across my fold, smearing my juices all over my pussy; God, even the gentle caress of his digits got me trembling for more. At this point, I couldn't wait to feel what his cock was going to do to me.

"Because I am not, but with you it just seems suited," I confessed, and Taehyung reattached our lips together, pushing his middle finger inside of me, making me almost bite my tongue. His hands were perfectly sculpted and his fingers were just right, filling me just the way I need him to. "Fuck, Tae, keep doing that," I moaned, my voice louder than the radio in the background. Taehyung added another finger, and began to rub my clit with his thumb.

"I really do bring the worst out of you," Taehyung sneered playfully, pumping his fingers within me, making me squirt on his hand. He really had no mercy when it came to pleasuring me; if he kept the pace, I'd come before the song ended. "Shit," Taehyung spat, as I started to shamelessly ride his hand in desperation for more.

"I seriously need your cock right now."

"Fuck," Taehyung pulled out his fingers, and his hands quickly landed back on my hips, squeezing my flesh roughly. "Get your cute ass on the back seat," he ordered sternly and pushed me upwards, helping me get off of him. With the grace and elegance of a noddle-legged zebra, I followed Taehyung's command, almost falling face-first on the seat in my tipsy state when he spanked my ass cheekily.

"Hey," I whined as I sat on the cold seat, waiting for Taehyung to join me, "it wasn't nice, what would you do if I spanked you?"

"I'd ask you to do it again," he replied wittily, and I roared with laughter, as I watched him crumble in the seat beside me, his movement almost as clumsy as mine. "Spread those pretty legs for me kitten," he whispered, a devilish smirk decorating his handsome face.

I didn't have to be told twice, I obeyed his order in an instant, whereas Taehyung hooked his fingers under the waistband of my jeans, and pulled them off my legs agonizingly slowly, and at this point, I didn't know whether he was torturing me, or himself.

Quickly, I pushed the leather jacket off his shoulders, and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing his naked chest and broad shoulders; maybe he wasn't ripped like a hockey player, but I liked his proportional frame. Without any hesitation, I could admit that he was ridiculously attractive despite anything.

"Take off your shirt, kitten," Taehyung cooed, and as if compelled, I got out of my jacket and band T-shirt, not leaving much to the imagination, since I was only in my panties and a violet bra that beautifully shaped my breasts. His eyes were focused on my cleavage, while his general expression was actually blank. "Wow," that's all he managed to voice before he grabbed me by my thighs abruptly and pulled me toward him, so in the process, I lay down on my back on the back seat, Taehyung already positioned between my legs.

"Taehyung," I purred when I felt his lips on the inner side of my right thigh. He was taking his time teasing me, and although it was nice, I couldn't wait for him to slam his cock inside of me until I come around him. Slowly, his kisses wandered upwards; gentle pecks all across my stomach, cleavage, and neck before he captured my mouth.

"Please," I mewled when he pulled away to catch a breath.

"Please what?" Taehyung smiled at me, rubbing his hard cock against my folds. Fuck, why do we still have so many clothes on?

"Pull out that cock and fuck me," I spoke rather tenaciously, as I placed my hands on his sides and pulled him closer, and he almost fell over on top of me. Didn't he understand how much I desired him?

"I really wanted to eat you out, though," Taehyung announced and licked his lips, as if trying to seduce me.

Didn't he realise I was already allured?

Twice.

"Oh my God," Taehyung tugged my panties to the side and tongue flicked his tongue against my clit, and I immediately buckled my hips upward against his face and clenched my fists, grabbing his fluffy hair. Every muscle of my body was tensed, my eyes tightly shut, and I only concentrated on Taehyung's tongue lapping and delving inside of me.

"What the fuck? Did you hear that?" We both instantly pulled away from each other and glanced at the radio which a second ago roared with deafening white noise. Strangely enough, it only lasted a few seconds, and I could swear I heard Jimin's scream.

"I did," Taehyung admitted, as he looked at the radio, and then at me, his frame supported on his arms, his hands pressed against the seat. "It must be nothing," he shrugged, and leaned in, kissing my abdomen, slowly pulling my panties down my legs. "The radio program must want to scare its listeners, that's all."

Taehyung's reasoning didn't convince me, yet I decided to follow his example and just shake it off; I had to be actually possessed to stop right now, put on my clothes back and check if Jimin's safe. Besides, he's a grown-up and he's not alone; he ought to be fine.

"Where were we?"

Quickly, a smile appeared on my face and the occurrence from a moment ago was the last thing on my mind.

"You were going to fuck me," I replied quickly, smirking at him. Obediently, Taehyung pulled down his pants to his knees, giving his thick cock a few strokes, "do you have a condom?"

"Shit, you're right," Taehyung cursed, but quickly reached into the car compartment where thankfully was a pack of condoms.

"You ready?" he asked the second he rolled the condom on his cock and positioned himself in front of my entrance.

"Fuck me, Taehyung."

Without any trouble, Taehyung eased himself in, and although I was soaking wet, he grunted as my walls wrapped around him tightly. Slowly at first, gradually increasing his pace, Taehyung snapped his hips, making me moan with every thrust. My breasts, although still in the bra, rocked in Taehyung's rhythm.

"Fuck, you're tight," Taehyung grunted under his breath, as he slammed his cock inside of me, his balls hitting against my body. His forehead was covered in sweat, and I was panting in exhaustion even we just began; his performance was amazing, short waves of pleasure running to every inch of my body.

"Just like that," I moaned, almost melting in front of him. He fucked me so good that it made me wonder how could he know my body better than I did. No one had ever made me feel this heavenly so soon; even myself. "Damn, Taehyung, you're killing me," his cock felt so amazing that it almost hurt. "I want to ride you, Tae."

"Fuck, come here." He hissed, as he pulled out of me, and I whined already missing his cock. It felt so empty that I almost felt bad for asking him for a change of position. Raggedly, Taehyung sat on the seat and placed his hands on my hips, helping me to sit down on his lap. "Ah, kitten," Taehyung purred when my sex brushed against his twitching cock, "I already miss that tight pussy."

Running my fingers through his fluffy hair, I raised my hips, and Taehyung positioned his dick against my entrance. Slowly, I sat down on him, my walls once again stretching around him. "Fuck, it makes me so full," I moaned, my eyes closed, my breath hitched.

Sensually, I rocked my hips back and fro, while Taehyung was decorating my cleavage with damp kisses, his large hands under my bra, fondling my breast. His touch wasn't too gentle, nor too rough; he knew what he was doing to make me feel desired and striving for more.

"Let me see them," Taehyung grunted, as he reached behind my back, unhooking my purple bra, tossing it onto the dashboard. "Beautiful, just as I imagined them," he confessed and before I got to give him a questioning look, his lips landed on my nipple. Hungrily, he sucked on my sensitive bud, his left hand kneading the other breast, making me slow my moves, as I savored the feeling of his tongue.

"Oh God," I moaned, digging my fingernails into the skin of his broad shoulders. "Taehyung," his name rolled off my tongue, and Taehyung immediately grasped my chin and tilted it down, pressing his lips against mine in a deep, haste kiss. His tongue swirled around mine, as he swallowed each moan that left my mouth.

"I hope you're close because I'm fucking coming," Taehyung warned me before he placed his hands on my sides, helping me increase my pace. The sound of our bodies, the skin slapping almost got me loose my balance. His fingertips dug into my hips, and I threw my head back, nearing my orgasm.

It was our first time, and although we both wanted to last as long as we could, I'd gladly reach my high now. I didn't really mind it as long as he was down for another round. Maybe not today, but generally. On my side, it was too fantastic to settle on a one night stand.

Hopefully, Taehyung thought the same.

"Just come, Tae," I breathed out, almost unable to speak, "I'm coming, too."

With a final thrust, Taehyung growled in ecstasy, releasing himself into a condom, while I fluttered my eyes when the shattering sensation nearly ripped me apart. For a brief moment, the orgasm overwhelmed me; my vision faded to black, and I was lying on my back, desperately trying to catch a breath, listening to Taehyung's irregular breathing.

God, how much I wished we could stay in his car a bit longer.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Taehyung gasped the second we entered the house, "what the fuck are you doing Jimin? It's not funny, bro." He added, and I looked over his shoulder to see what frightened him so much. Apparently, Jimin thought it'd be a good idea to stay up all night, sitting in a chair in front of the entrance with his hands entwined on his laps, just to catch us sneaking inside.

"Not cool, Jimin. Not cool." I added and shook my head disapprovingly.

"Are you gonna answer us?" Taehyung asked, crossing his arms over his chest, while I was just staring at Jimin, crept out by him as he not even once blinked since we had entered the house.

Hesitantly, I raised my hand and waved in front of Jimin's eyes, but he didn't move an inch. "That's creepy—" I spoke and shrieked in astonishment when the doors behind us slammed spontaneously with a loud bang. "Okay, Jimin, that's not funny anymore," I urged him, snapping my fingers before his face, yet Jimin remained unresponsive.

"Hey," Taehyung shouted, as he placed his large hands on Jimin's shoulders, trying to shake him awake. Unfortunately, his method also failed.

"Taehyung, look," I said, lightly elbowing Taehyung's side, wanting to obtain his attention, "there's blood," I added, pointing at Jimin's hands.

The second we examined his palms, Jimin shot a sinister glare at us, curving his lips into a creepy smirk. "Look who's finally here," Jimin started, his voice oddly different, as if an octave lower and raspier. He didn't sound like himself, and I was completely alerted. "I hope you liked your stay," Jimin continued and raised from his seat, turning his head in a very uncomfortable angle, as his eyes was drilling in our faces.

"Ha, ha, ha," Taehyung laughed awkwardly, as he scratched the back of his head.

"Taehyung," I whispered, as I tugged at his sleeve.

"What's the matter, kitten?" He asked, as he stared back at Jimin who licked the blood off of his hands, "that's nasty, bro."

"I don't want to break your moment over there, but I'm pretty sure it's Yoongi who lies on the floor over there in a puddle of blood." Taehyung's eyes immediately followed the direction I pointed at, and the second he spotted Yoongi, he pushed Jimin backwards. Jimin chortled as we tried to run away.

Oddly, the kitchen doors shut close almost in front of our faces, and this time, I doubted it was caused by the aeration.

"Okay, plan B?"

"Not really," Taehyung shook his head, his mouth wide open as he stared at Jimin in panic. "I must admit I counted on you in that area, kitten."

"Fuck," I cursed, as I tried to come up with a solution. I like working under pressure, but this case was quite extreme, as Jimin behaved like someone else, and Yoongi was lying on the floor, blood slowly seeping out of his head. "Stay back," I told Taehyung as I took a step forward, so he could hide behind me. I wouldn't generate a better idea if I knew that Taehyung was directly exposed to danger.

"What are we gonna do?" Taehyung asked, and I shook my head, as I didn't come with anything yet.

I was silent, observing Jimin. However, as soon as Jimin started to levitate a foot above the ground, my eyes almost popped out of its sockets. Like how I previously thought that all of this was a staged prank, I began doubting myself. Like before I knew a logical explanation existed, right now, I wasn't so sure anymore.

"Run!" I screamed and pushed Taehyung in front of me, so if Jimin wanted to dash after us, Taehyung had more chances of getting away.

"Over here!" Amber's voice echoed through the corridor, and we immediately followed the sound, running into the last bedroom on the right. "Krystal and I thought that Jimin finished you off like he did Yoongi. Thankfully, we were wrong." She spoke, and Krystal barricaded the doors.

"What happened to Jimin?" Taehyung asked, as he managed to catch a breath.

"I wish we knew," Krystal started, as she sat on the edge of the bed, her phone in her tight grip. "One moment we were going to rest in our rooms, and another, we heard Yoongi's scream."

"Quickly, we ran to see what the hell was going on. We saw Yoongi flying across the room, knocking his head against the wall." Amber finished, and Taehyung and I were equally crept out.

"That's messed up," Taehyung commented, and everyone nodded, agreeing with him. "What are we gonna do?"

Everyone was in deep thought; without a plan, we'd end up like Yoongi. It was three o'clock at night, and Namjoon was going to come get us at dawn. Right now, we had to be smart to last until then.

"Where are you hiding?" Jimin's sneer echoed behind the doors, as he strolled slowly, looking for us. He was taking his time chasing us, yet I suspected that he already knew where we were; he just played with us, making us think we stood a chance.

Suddenly, he heard a loud thud. Almost as if someone fell onto the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Amber asked in a raised voice, as she pointed at the doors. "I didn't like that sound."

"We should open the doors and see," Krystal spoke, and everyone looked at her, not knowing whether she was ridiculously brave or simply stupid. In our circumstances, the attack wasn't the best option; we would have to be batshit crazy to face the opponent, especially when we didn't have the foggiest idea what the fuck we were battling against.

"Nah, we're not gonna do that," I replied, trying my best not to offend her. I might've come a bit mean, yet Krystal's proposition wasn't the smartest option. No one in a right state of mind wouldn't willingly leave the sanctuary we were currently in. They might think I am a bitch, but at least, we would be safe. "Let's just stay here."

"What if Jimin's hurt?" Taehyung asked in concern, taking Krystal's side. It wasn't the place, not time for choosing sides, yet it happened. Taehyung was like me, no matter how stupid he was, he was worried about the rest. Without any doubt, he'd sacrifice himself if the group would make it without him. "We can't leave him like that."

Of course, we couldn't! Did he seriously think I didn't know that?

"Let's just go," Krystal added and smirked, and I immediately caught the difference in her voice. Amber realised it, too. Whatever possessed Jimin took over Krystal right now—that's why it was oddly quiet on the other side of the doors.

"Run!" Amber shouted, as she threw herself on Krystal, tackling her down on the floor. The second Amber's voice rang in my ears, I pushed the barricade as quickly as I could, and Taehyung and I escaped the room.

"We can't just leave her," Taehyung said when he looked over his shoulder, looking at Krystal, who was lying on the floor beneath Amber, chortling evilly.

"You're not gonna leave this house alive," Krystal threatened, as she laughed in Amber's face, effortlessly pushing her off of her. Taehyung and I gawked at Krystal whose eyes changed its colour to a very eerie shade of white.

With great dexterity, Krystal threw Amber across the room, smashing the old wardrobe with Amber's unconscious body.

"Run!" I shouted at Taehyung, pulling him with me, as we ran downstairs.

"What's your plan?"

"To get the fuck out of here!" I quickly screamed back at him, my hands instantly fidgeting with the knob. The doors just wouldn't open.

"Let me try," Taehyung proposed, and I took a step back, allowing him to try to break the doors down. Everything in vain, though. We were locked in. "Do you have a plan B?" Taehyung asked, as he hit the doors with his clenched fist in irritation.

"Tools? We need some tools," I said the first that came to my mind. I knew it wasn't the smartest solution, yet that's all I could postulate.

"Okay, just stay here, and I look for something," Taehyung stated and kissed my forehead before he ran off. It was very irresponsible to split up, yet I didn't even get to scold him, since he was already out of my sight. How could he leave me like that? I understood that he didn't want to put me in danger, but as a duo, we were stronger. I had watched way too many horror movies to know that splitting up was the worst thing that we could do.

Trying my best not to panic, I paced around the hall, playing with my fingers. I was left alone, and I didn't like that feeling; that monster that was terrorizing us could come at me anytime.

"Holy shit," I shrieked when I heard a loud thud. Thankfully, it was just Taehyung, and he had found a crowbar. "What took you so long?" I asked, relief washing over me, seeing him safe and sound. I had a bad feeling about it, yet it was only my paranoid suspicion.

"I returned in a speed of light, babe." Taehyung snickered, sending shivers down my spine.

Babe?

Oh, no. Taehyung exclusively called me kitten. He knew how much it annoyed me, he'd not change the pet name; at least, not until it grew on me.

It wasn't him anymore.

Taehyung was gone, and I was, now, face to face with a parasite that lived off him. I was scared beyond common sense, and I had no idea what to do. However, I had to figure something out real quick unless I wanted to be discovered.

"Yeah, maybe you're right, I'm just really scared, you know," I spoke, trying to sound natural. My hands were trembling, all covered in sweat, yet thankfully, my voice didn't break. "Are you ready to get the hell out of here?" I asked, smiling, as I reached for the crowbar.

"Are we really going to leave them behind?" Taehyung asked, as I turned on my heels, facing the doors. With my eyes tightly closed, I bit on my bottom lip, feeling the copper on my tongue. I had to be cautious with my words. I couldn't get busted.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine. Namjoon will pick them up at dawn, and we wait for him outside," I explained, tightening my grip on the crowbar.

"I guess that's reasonable—" Taehyung replied, but before he managed to finish his sentence, I swung the crowbar, and hit him in the head. The blow wasn't powerful enough to kill Taehyung, yet it was sufficient to knock him down. A thin stream of blood seeped from his head, but I didn't worry that much about him, being sure he was going to be alright.

"Shit," I cursed the second lights started flickering.

Using all my strength, I tried to break the doors down with the crowbar, but they didn't even budge. Desperately, I looked around, thinking of another escape way. A broken window had to suffice right now. Even if I was about to break my leg, I wouldn't stand another minute in this fucked up house.

Quickly, I swung my hand, shattering the glass into a million pieces. While clearing the sharp pieces from the frame, I heard a quiet groan. Immediately, I turned around and saw Taehyung who tried to raise his head.

"Careful," I warned him, as I approached him and crouched by his side.

"What the hell happened?" He asked, when he touched his head, wiping the blood off his forehead. "Why does my head hurt so much?"

"I'll explain later," I announced, helping Taehyung to stand up. "We have no time, Tae. I smashed the window, we're getting out of here." He nodded his head before I helped him walk to the window. "You go first."

Taehyung wanted to argue with me, but he couldn't do anything to change my mind. He was wounded, and although it wasn't anything serious, I was still going to force him out of the window if he wouldn't jump out willingly. Nothing would convince me, so he better complied with me.

"Quickly," I urged him, when Taehyung swung his legs over the frame.

"Come on, kitten," Taehyung spoke, waiting for me to join him outside. Shooting one last glance at the interior, I heaved a sigh, and squeezed through the window, landing on my feet beside Taehyung.

Naturally, he entwined his hands with mine, and we jogged away from the house, pressing our backs against the side of his car, slowly sliding down onto the ground. We were both panting, our breaths slowly evening.

"It's 4 o'clock," I stated, as I looked at my phone, "I should probably call Namjoon, but given that the house is packed with cameras, he's already on his way over here."

"Yeah, with a fucking exorcist," Taehyung added and laughed loudly in relief. "What are you doing next weekend?"

I giggled before I turned to look at his face, "I was going to throw an amazing birthday party, but right now, I think I'm gonna treat myself. I fucking deserve it." I uttered, and Taehyung nodded his head, comprehending my words. "Why?"

"I'm gonna intrude that little celebration." Taehyung announced, and I smiled at his bold words.

"Please do."