#may this au continue to thrive <3

[steeviedee]

HAPPY BIRF TO @insolent-creations

Get Sammy'd lol

[pathetichimbos]

Ok actually I've been in love with your toughts about Thomas, YOU'RE AN AMAZING WRITER!!!

Btw, I can't stop thinking about how this man deserved a childhood friend that would eventually become his lover, someone that decided to treat him like an human being once and discovered he's just really sweet boy and not a monster.

Do you think that would change anything about how Thomas behaves in the future?

Oh, this is something I have thought about, I could write a whole fic on the AU, but let's not bite off more than we can chew and put that idea to the side for a future project. Please bear in mind that this post may seem lesser than my others and more rushed, that was quite literally because I had to continuously stop myself from writing endless drabbles on this idea.

But, I digress. Let's dive into the factual and realistic results of giving Thomas a childhood friend.

So, as we know, Thomas has had a lot of health issues from birth, and the Hewitt family did their best to get him the medical help he needed, taking him to doctors up until he was about thirteen or fourteen.

We also know that Thomas has been bullied for most of his life, and was isolated from his peers and community at a young age.

And we know that Thomas is some flavor of neuordivergent, so if we add all of these things together, we get a school record full of absences, low grades, and detentions from fights he didn't start, because we all know that in small southern towns, teachers really don't give a shit who starts the fight, they care about who's family has the better reputation.

So, he's in an out of school from the get go, has a bad reputation with all his teachers (and going into every new grade because teachers talk), and struggles with learning in the traditional way.

This starts tons of rumors about him.

They float all around the school, everyone knows who Thomas is, and no one in particular likes him.

But! Let's back up here, and take it back to, oh, I don't know, first, second grade? Around that time frame.

Thomas is still a little dude, being harassed and bullied by his peers and generally not having a fun time.

But, this time around, we'll drop another little dude in there. (that's you!)

And this little dude (non-gender term) doesn't particularly care about Thomas' deformities and disabilities. Who would?

So, you start hanging out with him. And Thomas, (who we all know thrives on positive attention), is confused, but not unwelcoming.

I don't think he'd be really clingy right of the bat, but give it a school year (maybe two if he's out of school a lot that particular year), and he's going to be a lot more comfortable with you, and that's what's going to lead to that clinginess.

Especially if you're nonchalant about grabbing his hand or touching him in general, because, remember, most people are afraid to even come near him, so the fact that you don't care and are willing to just casually touch him, is a huge thing in his eyes, and as he gets older, he's going to want more.

So, we'll skip ahead a bit until y'all are 10-12ish, and at this point, you're Thomas' best friend. Everyone knows you two hang out, the Hewitts love you, and it leads to a bit more isolation on your end, because no one wants to be friends with the freak, let alone the freaks weird best friend. (and yes, you're weird, I know you are because you're listening to me rant about leatherface /affectionate <3)

But, this also opens Thomas up to people a bit more, as the few people that do talk to you, eventually talk to him, maybe not go as far as to be his friends, but enough to be friendly.

Of course, some people are fake, and they'll ditch the both of you the moment the 'popular' kids find out they talk to you.

And other people don't, it's middle school, life in general sucks. Y'all are just trying to survive your way to highschool.

Now, if we assume you help tutor Thomas and you help keep him out of trouble (i.e. a large tree limb tends to deter bullies), we can assume his grades will go up, which will probably get his teachers off his back. All of these things are good. Thomas has a real friend, and not everyone treats him like a monster. His grades are better. His family is proud of him.

But Thomas still has mental health issues. And just like he hid them from his family, he hides them from you as well. His peers and community may have shunned and isolated him, but he also shuns and isolates himself from his family and friends, so I believe that despite being clingy and wanting to be around you a lot, if he hits a depressive episode, he's going to isolate from everyone.

That's what leads to his self mutlilation.

He slices the skin off his cheeks in an attempt to "fix" his deformities, believing that if he just gets rid of them, his disease will go away.

...But it doesn't. And he doesn't get to see you for a long time, a worried and frightened Luda Mae keeping her baby locked away and protected from the world while he heals.

That's when Thomas stops speaking. The healing wounds and eventual scars make it harder for him to speak, making anything more than a mutter or whisper painful for him.

This is when he finally drops out of school. It's a small southern town in the early 1950s, so there's no fight to stop him, after all, he's expected to help his family run the farm.

When he finally sees you again, he's worried you'll have changed your mind about him, and even though you haven't done anything wrong, it takes time for him to trust you again, his own self doubt ruining his confidence in your friendship.

But, after that, you're pretty much inseparable again. Everyone in town knows that if they see one of you, the other isn't far behind. Thomas still struggles a lot on his own during this time, and I don't believe he'd be capable of loving himself enough at this point to love you, or at least, I don't think he'd believe you actually like him, and for the sake of this post, we'll keep it that way.

Thomas spends a lot of time at his house at this point, so you spend a lot of time after school there with him. His house is practically your house. Luda Mae, Charlie, and Monty all know that once school lets out you're headed over, and they set an extra plate at dinner for you. (They don't know how Thomas could be so possibly blind to your affection towards him, but other than Charlie's stray comments encouraging Thomas to 'give it a shot', they mind their business)

Once Thomas gets a job at the slaughterhouse, and you get your own job in town, you'll often walk to the slaughterhouse after work to meet Thomas just finishing his shift, and the two of you will walk together until you have to separate to go to your own house.

It breaks people's minds seeing how soft Thomas is with you, their own preconceived ideas about the man leaving them baffled when he's gentle and caring to his friend.

It's about his early to mid twenties, when people start looking at you as more than just his friend, and as someone to actually chase and date, that Thomas finally snaps.

You don't know what comes over your best friend, but he becomes extremely affection and protective of you, no one can approach you in a flirtatious way without Thomas following close behind, simply standing behind you as a warning for them to move on.

But he doesn't actually try to date you. He's still torn by his own poor self esteem. It drives you insane.

You'll have to confront him, and give him an ultimatum. You can't keep playing this game, where he refuses to let you out of his sight but runs away every time you try to make a move.

He caves, obviously, not willing to lose you in any capacity, but your relationship is slow and careful, working at his pace as he learns to accept himself and your love for him, which takes a very long time.

He's not comfortable with any PDA, just barely letting you hold his hand when you meet him after work.

"But we've always held hands." You point out, and he looks away with a shrug.

It's different now.

But, let's step away from the drabble territory. I've already had to rewrite this post like five times now.

Over the years, Thomas becomes more and more comfortable with your relationship, and you have to teach him practically everything. He genuinely doesn't know anything going into this. And I mean anything.

As the town starts to die, and your family decides to leave, the Hewitts welcome you with open arms, but Luda Mae moves you into the guest room. After all, you're not married.

That doesn't stop you from sneaking into his room at night though.

But, despite the implication I just made, I don't think Thomas would be ready for actual sex until marriage. He's still a traditional man, just the way his mother raised him.

But, again, not my main point. Stick with me, I'm wrapping it up now.

All in all, I don't think Thomas would be that much different. A little more self confidence and self esteem, sure, but he'll still be Thomas. When the factory shuts down, he'll still snap, and he'll still kill the supervisor. He'll still start preparing human meat like he's asked. But other than feeling a bit more comfortable in his own skin and mind, he wouldn't be much different. He's still our same old Tommy.

Ok, that's all for now. Thanks for sending in the ask love <3

[yoonia]

In Motion (M) | 11

➬ Summary | The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times since you’ve encountered the voyeurism club, but it was only when a certain boy arrives on one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside.

➬ Pairings | Jungkook x reader (with POV switches)

➬ Genre | Masturbation Club!au, Sex Club!au, mature, smut

➬ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; includes explicit mature/sexual scene, public nudity, public sex, public display of sexual exploitation, dom/sub act/relationship, sexual tension, mutual masturbation, fingering (female receiving), usage of sex toys, public display of bondage, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mentions of alcohol consumption (minor), hand job (solo), female x female action, hair pulling, breast play, clamps (nipple clamp, clitoris clamp), pain kink, clit play, nipple play, dry humping, clothed fingering, dirty talk, ear biting, neck kissing, edging, orgasm denial, orgasm delay, sexual stimulation, sensory play, cum play, cum eating, aftercare

➬ Word count | 13,5k words

➬ Chapter List/Index | Music Playlist | ⤎ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ⇢

➬ Main Masterlist

➬ Author’s note | And we’re back, after a thousand years of absence. Forgive me for taking so long to get back into this series. My muse has been silent, and I had to wait until he returns to me to be able to finish this story. We’re finally at the final chapters, so I really hope that I can make the long wait worthwhile. Please note that this chapter is roughly edited, but I might return to it once I’m done with the entire series. Thank you for your patience. Enjoy!

𝕮𝖑𝖚𝖇 𝕷𝖆 𝕽𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐋𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞.”

Please follow the rules specified below:

1. You must confirm the RSVP and send it back within 3 days prior to the arranged date. Please remember that any late submissions will not be accepted.

2. Once your RSVP is received and acknowledged, the Club’s Representative will send you the address of the pick-up point before we will escort you to the designated place where the main event is to be held.

3. Upon arrival, the attending party will return the form sent together with the RSVP invitation and will be required to undergo further identification check before being permitted to enter the main event. The preference checklist will contribute further in order to determine any security measures for individuals attending the event.

4. The event will be a non-formal all-black attire. To further maintain anonymity, it is highly advised for the attending party to make use of the mask sent along with the invitation. Each attendee will receive specially made masks as part of identification needed for the Club’s security check.

5. Any form of open conversation are forbidden once the attendee party have arrived within the main lounge. Any mutual arrangements—including partner appointments and group arrangements—may only occur upon re-registration and only in the specially provided rooms. Attendees are welcome to observe any ongoing public sessions but are not allowed to interfere. Physical contact will only be permitted between partners or special arrangements under the staff’s approval. Any violation of the rules will result in members being escorted out and your name will be added to our blacklist.

6. Any other mutual arrangements that may occur after the event will no longer be our concern.

—You—

The La Rouge mansion continues to thrive as the night carries on.

A seductive tune continues to play from every corner of the room. The smooth melody keeps flowing across the main ballroom like an alluring enchantment, guiding you through the motion. It doesn’t sound loud enough to match a scene from a nightclub and barely enough to drown the conspicuous sounds being created in the room, but it is still enough to help set up the entire pace and the mood of the event.

The low bass thump of the music vibrates through the space around you, somehow matching the slow thrums of your heartbeat that are coming from the mixture of anticipation and excitement. It also reminds you of the way your heartbeat would thrum rapidly every time you are with Jungkook, and how it would even grow more intense when he touches you.

Just like the way it is happening now, when you can feel the light touch of Jungkook’s fingers on the small of your back as he guides you through the room, moving slowly past the floor where the shared acts of debauchery are happening in full display. Everywhere you look, it almost seems like everyone in the room is moving in tune. Their motions flow together in a similar sultry rhythm. The sounds of soft moans and delighted groans are blending together with the slow beat of the music, making it seem like everyone is coming together as one.

The room doesn’t seem to be fully packed with guests, but it is still quite obvious that more attendees have been coming in while you and Jungkook were having an insightful conversation with Taehyung back at the drinking lounge.

The entire place has certainly come alive as everyone has started to let loose, succumbing to every need and every true desire. The masks they all wear might able to hide their faces, but they have all unmasked themselves to reveal the darkest part of their inner being and let everything out in the open for everyone to see. It is plain to see that all inhibitions are lost. Not a single stage in sight is left unoccupied. Even the ones that you had seen vacant from any performer or void of spectators before have now become the ones that are gathering more attention, with masked members indulging in various risqué acts while taking their places in the spotlight.

You may have had a preview before when you first arrived in this ballroom, to have glimpses of what was happening on those stages, but only now do you finally take the chance to get a closer look, finally paying attention to the scenes occurring around you and all the contraptions that are available for the attendees to use in their acts.

There is an eccentric-looking cross on one stage, while some others are fitted with wooden or leather-covered benches as their centerpieces. On others, there are some fancy-looking loveseats with soft cushions and high-back seats, and there are even a couple of stages with small beds to use under the applied rules. A few smaller stages have either various ropes dangling from above or metal poles standing as their centerpieces, with a couple of dancers utilising the latter to give special entertainment to the spectators who are not there to play or those who want something different to enjoy.

Your eyes find the stage with the throne that had caught your attention earlier. It seems that a different woman is using it now while the luscious woman that you saw previously is no longer in sight. Judging from the golden mask that this woman is wearing and the fancy rose embroideries embellished on either side of her mask, you can safely assume that she is another official member of the club and not just an invited guest for tonight’s special event. Your eyes drift down, noticing that her bare breasts are fully on display with the top of her dress lowered down to rest right beneath them. The way they are propped perfectly over the crumpled fabric of her dress makes them rock and shake as she moves her hips over the seat of the armchair. Moving your gaze lower to watch her act more closely, your breath nearly halts at what you are seeing.

With her legs spread open and the hem of her silky dress hiked up all the way up her hips, you have a clear view of her bare pussy, and how her slick folds are parted as she continues fucking a replica of a phallus, just like what the other woman that you had seen earlier was doing on that very same stage.

To your relief and astonishment, you soon notice that the phallus that was once attached onto the seat has been replaced with a new one. The fake cock impaling her now is glaring red and seems even bigger compared to the one that was used earlier, which makes it even more visible as the masked woman moves her body up and down, allowing the fake cock to slide in and out of her pussy, its length glistens under the dim light with her arousal. Her entire body rocks each time she takes the whole length inside her, and you can almost hear the sounds coming out of her parted lips when waves and waves of pleasure take over her.

This time, she is not the only one occupying the stage, as a man is seen standing right beside the armchair, facing her. Your eyes grow wide once you notice that he is wearing a matching mask to the woman, a golden mask with intricate detail of a pair of roses embroidered on each of its sides, signifying that they are here together as partners—much like you and Jungkook are.

As the woman becomes so lost in her desire, the man is there to support her. You may not be able to see his face, with his mask perfectly shielding his identity and only leaving his mousy hair exposed, yet you can see the rest of him as he barely covers everything else about himself that most definitely has caught the attention of numerous other women around you. Wearing only a pair of tight leather pants that are now barely hanging around his hips, he has left his bare chest and back exposed, while the muscles on his strong arms keep flexing and straining as he uses one hand to stroke his fat cock in a pace that matches his partner’s rocking hips, while he has a tight grip of her hair in his other hand, forcing her to keep her head held up high and her eyes looking hazily forward, facing their audience without shame as she submits to her pleasure.

Being completely entranced at the sight before you, you barely notice Jungkook’s presence until he presses his fingers harder into the small of your back, reminding you of your own partner. He slows down beside you once he notices what exactly has you so fixated that you are beginning to halt in your steps, and you can feel the tips of his fingers moving up and down at a gentle pace on your waist, a silent way that he does to grab your attention. Looking away from the scene, you find Jungkook’s eyes growing dark and intense, his gaze emits hunger that seems to intensify just by looking at your face. Whatever he is seeing from your reaction to the scene seems to be awakening something inside him. It encourages him to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close, pressing you against his side and enveloping you with his heat in a possessive way that has your heartbeat racing and your body heat escalating rapidly.

Out here in the main ballroom and merely a few feet away from the open drinking lounge, neither of you is allowed to converse publicly, even with each other. Yet you find that there are really no words needed for you to know what is going inside his head, just as much as he seems to know what is happening inside yours. You can feel it in his touch, and you can see it in his gaze. His eyes simply glow darkly from beneath his mask as he keeps looking down at your face. With a smile and a tilt of his head, he urges you to look back at the stage, and you turn just in time to catch it just as the scene reaches its peak.

Succumbing to her climax, the masked woman wails in pleasure. Her entire body seems to rock violently as she pushes down one last time, taking the entire length of the phallus inside her which pushes her straight to the edge. With her release, the man also comes to his end. Ropes of white cum erupt from his massive-sized cock, falling all over his partner’s breasts, face, and even hair.

On this floor, and on those stages, only limited body contacts are allowed during the event, unless special arrangements have been set in place between the members or partners involved. The same goes for the private rooms, according to the rules stated in your invitation, though there will be different rules applied for the exclusive members with access to those rooms, which fills you with more excitement, curious to see what other sexual exploit that the club has to offer.

Still, even without watching the pair performing any public sexual intercourse, the sight of them embracing their desire and release at the same time is already enough to get your body burning with clear desire, that you almost have to cling onto Jungkook as you watch the rest of their interaction on stage. Then, something seems to coil inside your stomach, a new feeling of warmth that mixes in with your desire when you watch the way the pair of lovers are looking at each other in the aftermath of their lewd act. Their gazes seem to share a deep secret while they pay no attention to the crowd around them. There is something else in their eyes as they exchange looks, something deeper and yet tender at the same time, and it seems to escalate as the man releases his tight grip on her hair and starts caressing her gently, as he wordlessly soothes his lover from her blissful high.

For a moment, you had thought that the connection they are displaying would put an end to their act, until you see the woman lifting her trembling fingers from the chair’s armrests and starts running them across her body, picking up the mess from her skin with the tip of her fingers before licking them all clean, never once looking away from her lover. It feels so intimate, so intense, and you can tell that her sly act is once again affecting her partner whose chest continues to rise and fall. Watching this, you begin to want the same, to experience the same connection with the man who is slowly pulling you back to him with his gentle, yet tantalising touch on the curve of your waist.

Without a word, Jungkook gently pulls you away from the scene. It takes some effort for you to get out of the fog that you have found yourself drowning in that you simply start clinging onto him further as he begins to guide you both to move across the room, to take the chance to enjoy other lewd scenes that are transpiring. Your mind is still hazy with the need to find relief as you walk past a couple of more stages, all filled with masked guests showing lewd scenes of sharing their desires and chasing their orgasms, either doing it solo or with partners, some even in small groups. But everything seems like a blur when your mind is still rallying from the last act that you had just witnessed.

Knowing this, Jungkook takes you by the hand to lead you away from the main ballroom and deeper into the mansion. The music continues to follow you as he guides you towards the hallway appearing on the other end of the room, though the resounding expressions of pleasure slowly fade with the more distance you put between you and the open stages, allowing you to take a deep breath and find a sense of calmness.

Unlike the other hallways that you have come across earlier, the room you are walking into appears more spacey, though it does take quite a while for you to reach the end where Jungkook pulls you to a stop. The path doesn’t seem to end there, however, as the long tunnel splits into two different directions from here. Just when you are wondering where to go, your eyes fall on a golden plaque which is placed on the wall in front of you.

Jungkook takes you to move and take a look closer at it. You can see clearly now that the plaque is made up of two arrows pointing at opposite sides of each other. Seeing the markings on each arrow, you can tell that the plaque is supposed to act as a signage to inform you where to go. The arrow pointing to your right is marked with an intricate drawing of a pair of eyes, with one of them wide open and the other drawn to appear closed shut as if to wink at its spectator. According to the information that you found in the invitation, this specific sign had meant to represent the act of voyeurism, one of the major themes for tonight’s event. The other arrow pointing to the left hallway is marked with an intricate drawing of a female hand, its delicate fingers are drawn as if to summon someone closer, the sign which represents the mutual masturbation theme that the event is holding, the other section of the club in which you and Jungkook had been a part of.

A gasp slips out of you when you feel Jungkook’s thumb moving in circles at the small of your back, and you turn to catch him looking down on you, his eyes filled with question. Once again, he is giving you the control to make the decision, for you to make the choice that will set the course of the night for the two of you. Giving him a smile, you recall telling him earlier that you had wanted to experience everything tonight. So just as he tilts his head, questioning you silently about what you want to do next, you gently pull his hand with you and turn your gaze to your right, indirectly pointing towards where you want to go.

A soft chuckle is heard from him. There is no doubt that your choice has amused him, even if he doesn’t seem too surprised by it. With his gentle hold on your hand, Jungkook guides you with him towards the right hallway, ready to join you in the new adventure that you are about to embark on.

The trip through the smaller hallway doesn’t take as long as the one that had led you here from the main ballroom. Deep down, you know that you have gone far deep into the mansion, making you wonder just how many other hallways such as this one that you can find inside this building, how many different rooms that they could lead you to, and how many other secrets that you may unfold if you ever have the chance to venture through each one.

After the short walk that is quiet yet filled with deep anticipation, you are met with a smaller version of the receptionist desk that you saw when you first arrived, placed a few feet away from the end of the hallway. Right on the wall behind it, you can see a pair of glass doors standing tall from the floor to the high ceiling above. Both doors appear to have the same intricate design on them as the one you saw downstairs in the main lobby. The doors are slightly smaller, but seeing them makes you think of them as the twin gateways opening to another realm, knowing that there would be a completely different setting waiting for you on the other side.

Standing behind the small counter is a male usher attending the section all by himself. Just like the other staff members that you have met, the man is wearing a mask covering half of his face. But unlike the others who had dressed formally for the event, the man only has his uniform vest covering his bare chest, without a sight of the buttoned-up shirt that the other ushers and attendants have been seen using.

The masked usher immediately looks up just as you and Jungkook walk closer, showing you his smile as he welcomes your arrival. “Good evening,” he greets you with a gentle voice, though it does sound a bit startling to hear him speak after having been silent for quite a while. “May I have a look at your invitation cards?”

Jungkook throws a quick glance at you before pulling out the invitation cards from the inner pockets of his suit. He says nothing as he hands the cards to the usher, who immediately runs them on the device he has on the counter. He finishes not too long after with a smile on his face and hands the cards back to Jungkook. He then proceeds in giving you both the instructions needed for this section.

“You have been confirmed to have access to the rooms of your choice anywhere within the mansion while the event is ongoing. This area will lead you to the Viewing Room. You can find the information about the room and all the detailed instructions that you are required to follow once you reach the doors behind me. Take your time to study the written rules that we have provided for you before going further. You are free to choose whichever room you are interested to visit and enjoy. As you continue, please remember to not interrupt the ongoing sessions.”

Not knowing if you are allowed to speak in return, you simply smile and nod at him to let him know that you understand his instructions. The usher proceeds with his duty, as he starts pressing a few buttons on his device which seems to unlock the doors behind him before he gestures for you to move along.

You follow Jungkook’s lead to walk closer towards the fancy doors. His gentle grip on your hand becomes the anchor that allows you to continue walking despite feeling as if you are floating above the ground, still stuck in the somewhat dreamy state that you have been in after experiencing the soiree in the ballroom. Once you are close enough, you find another golden plaque placed between the twin doors with texts inscribed on its surface, and you realise that this must be what the usher had meant about the rules that you would need to learn before entering.

Right at the top of the plaque is the name of the rooms that you are about to enter.

The Viewing Room.

The information written right beneath the cursive writing nearly trips your already heightened sense. Your imagination begins to run wild as your mind is suddenly open to all the possibilities that may happen beyond these walls.

Behind these doors are the private rooms which have been specifically set for this section, just like perhaps many others located in different corners of the mansion that you have yet to find which may also have different functions. Just as stated by the usher and the booklet that was sent to you by the club, only guests with special privileges may have access to them, something that both you and Jungkook had gained from the invitations you received from Jungkook’s sponsor.

Each of these doors is going to lead you to different sides of the room, each one with different purposes, yet it is mentioned that both rooms will still be connected directly to each other to serve their purpose. Looking over to the doors, you finally notice the different ornament designs that appear on the stained glass art, seemingly used to differentiate each room.

The door to your left is marked with a drawing of an opened eye, looking out from the top center of the glass door. The instruction tells you that this door would lead you to the room which would allow the attendees to watch an ongoing scene.

The door to your right is marked with a drawing of a closed eyelid, a complete opposite of the other one. This door is said to lead you towards the room that has been provided for the attendees to have their private sessions. Except that they wouldn’t be as private as what they may seem, as their actions would be available for the other attendees in the opposite room to watch and enjoy, though the players may not be able to look the other way towards the audience unless they are allowing it upon entering the room.

Before you can even start pondering about your options, Jungkook leans in, and you feel his warm breath falling on the nape of your neck when he slyly whispers, “To watch, or to act? Your choice.”

His question gives you some kind of reassurance. The fact that he always respects your decisions and he continues to consider your choices, putting your comfort and interest first in something that you are sharing and enjoying together has meant a lot to you. Though having his support still doesn’t necessarily mean that it would make it easy for you to make the decision.

Voyeurism, you wonder to yourself as your heartbeat starts to pick up, feeling as if you are dreaming. It had already intrigued you the first time you heard about this ‘sexual forte’ becoming a part of tonight’s event, though you hadn’t thought of actually getting involved in it when you first decided to come tonight. Not until earlier when the option was being laid out in front of you to take.

You may have had experiences in performing for others before, back when you allowed other club members to watch you pleasure yourself during the masturbation club sessions the couple of times you were there. But you have always been able to see your audience, to share the same space and get involved in it together, and you had always been able to see their reaction while you were indulging in the act filled with carnal desire.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see the other side while exposing yourself is undoubtedly the part that intrigues you the most, but it is also the part of this theme which scares you the most. You wonder if you are ready for that kind of thrill, should you choose to perform with Jungkook. The pulses of desire that you have been feeling are still present, even if it is slowly starting to subside in the moment of clarity, but you aren’t quite sure that finding relief with a lot of strangers or an entire room of intrigued audience deliberately watching you would be the right choice.

The decision to make isn’t one that you can take lightly. This is your first night of joining these events, after all, and this would be the first time that you are sharing such an intimate moment with a partner instead of going through it on your own.

A new rule has also been added to this section, as unlike in the other areas within the mansion, the players and the audiences are allowed to go a bit further. More direct physical contact and direct communication are allowed within the showing room while the audiences in the other room are free to make contact with their partners, though the limitations of direct communication still apply, and nothing more than the minimal contact that the club allows is permitted between the audience.

Even with the leniency added within this section, the rules strictly state that no sexual penetration is allowed. And it appears that not only is this rule applied in the showing room, but it is implemented in any area within the mansion that is available for the guests as long as tonight’s event is still ongoing.

Despite it all, this only means that anything could still happen beyond these doors. Even with the limitations, the possibility still seems endless. The only thing left to consider is how far are you willing to go, and where would you draw your limit while you are here, experiencing everything that the club has to offer.

Skimming through the rules one more time and reading the details of the rooms that you are about to enter, you picture yourself becoming a part of both options, trying to see which one of them that you could indulge in without feeling uncomfortable at all. After going through the soiree in the main ballroom, there is a need within you that is begging to be fulfilled and a dark desire that is asking to be unleashed, and your curiosity is allowing you to try anything that may help you find release.

But how much are you willing to share with the club tonight, knowing how different the scale of tonight’s event is compared to the sessions you have been in?

There is a sense of insecurity about exposing the intimate part of yourself after taking one too many steps further with Jungkook during your own personal time. You have been sharing those nights and the experiences privately with Jungkook without any audience around you for the past few months. Suddenly, going from those nights to sharing it with unseen strangers feels like a huge leap. But you still want to experience everything you possibly could, to get a closer look at what the club is all about and find out how you and Jungkook would fit with them.

Just like what you had promised him.

“I want to watch,” you whisper softly to him once you’ve made your decision, looking into his eyes to make sure that he can hear you perfectly through the muted music coming from the other rooms around you, while silently hoping that the usher wouldn’t be listening in. “I want to see what is happening in there before jumping into the main attraction myself.”

Jungkook smiles, and you can immediately tell that he wants exactly the same thing. The glimpse of relief that you briefly catch on from his gaze makes you think that he was secretly hoping to hear those words from you too. With his hand returning to your waist, he guides you towards the door on the left, where the drawing of the single eye looking back at you welcomes your arrival. He still has his hold on you as he opens the door, revealing a small foyer right on the other side, where a standing wall partition is placed as a barrier between you and the rest of the room. You are relieved to have that barrier shielding your entry, instead of having other guests and complete strangers noticing you as you come to join them.

Though perhaps the music that is blasting through the room would have covered your entrance just enough. The loud music that welcomes you upon entry catches you by surprise, as it is completely in contrast to what was going on right outside where every other sound was muted, but you adjust to it immediately as you walk past the partition and further into the room.

The room is kept in the dark, but you manage to see through it once you walk inside. Past the barrier, you find a small lounge with multiple semi-circle loveseats and high-back armchairs placed around the room, each seat is set apart from one another, all facing the glass wall standing on your right. With their shapes and the way they are placed in the room, each seat earns its own personal space, shielding the occupants from other guests or staff walking through the entrance foyer and from each other. Aside from the cozy seating sets, there are a few sets of standing tables placed near the wall at the far back, though there is no sight of high stool chairs to accompany them.

It takes a moment before your eyes are completely adjusted to the darker room inside to see more, and only then do you finally notice that a couple of the loveseats have been occupied, while there are a few masked attendees standing in the corners and behind the standing tables, mostly in pairs, all with their eyes facing the opposite side of the room which seems to have drawn their entire focus.

The beat of the music playing from the speakers drowns the sounds coming from around you that you nearly miss what is happening. But then Jungkook leads you to one of the empty standing tables in a dark corner and positions you in front of him, allowing you to get a clear view of the other side of the room where the glass wall is situated.

Right on the other side of the clear glass, you can see what seems to be the room behind the other door that you saw earlier. Despite being illuminated with nothing more but dim lighting, the space behind the glass appears slightly brighter than the room you are in, allowing you to see everything clearly.

Taking your time to look closer into that room, you can see that the space is separated into two different sections, differentiated by the furniture items that are set across from each other. On one side, there is a long loveseat that is wide enough to act like a sofa bed. The loveseat has been left unoccupied, yet your eyes are soon drawn towards the long table and shelves which are placed around it. Even from here, you can still see the various objects that the shelves and long table contain, things that you can identify as toys, sex tools, and other supplies that might be useful for a special playtime.

A sharp cry grabs your attention, pushing you to turn and look at the other side of the room. Unlike the nearly cozy-looking playroom across from it, this section of the room has a metal pole standing from floor to ceiling, much similar to the ones you saw on the stages earlier where multiple dancers were performing gracefully. Your body has been boiling with pure need even before you got here, so you quickly feel it rising intensely once again when you finally get a clear view of the scene that is unfolding right before your eyes.

Standing with her arms bound against the pole behind her back is a woman wearing a black and golden mask. Despite its colour, the mask seems a bit more simple, without any sight of ornaments or embroidered decorations on its sides the way you saw them on the other masks worn by official members. Restrained in a similar fashion to the shackled man that you had seen earlier on one of the public acts in the main ballroom, the woman appears vulnerable, though there is something beautiful in the way she is submitting to her desire. You can see it in her eyes, when even the mask that she is wearing is incapable of concealing her reaction—the gaze that appears hazy as she looks far ahead, her soft jawline that appears slack while her lips are parted ever so slightly, as if she is in the deep state of bliss and relief.

Is that how I look? —you silently wonder, trying to imagine yourself being in her place, to imagine how you would look whenever you are embracing your own pleasure.

With her arms pulled behind her back, her entire body is thrust forward, being put on display for you and all the other spectators to see. Wearing nothing else but the mask covering her face and the pair of heels on her feet, the only other things you see on her are the pair of clamps attached onto her nipples, both connected to each other by a small chain that dangles across her breasts as she slightly moves. Her hips tremble, and you can see a vibrator poking out of her pussy. Its subtle hum can be faintly heard from between her legs despite the music blasting around you. The fact that you can still hear it, adding the way her thighs are trembling fiercely—seemingly quivering at the same rhythm as the vibrator inside her—makes you wonder just how intense and how high the level of vibration that she is experiencing right now.

Another woman makes her appearance just then. Unlike her partner who is completely bare and exposed, she appears wearing a maroon corset dress that pushes her breasts up while the hem of the dress falls barely an inch beneath her buttocks. She wears a golden mask that matches the colour of the one that the other woman is wearing, though her mask appears to be embellished with an intricate decoration of butterfly wings on both sides.

Judging from the way she is dressed and the mask that she is wearing, and also the way she is carrying herself as she moves around her partner, it is quite obvious that she is the one running the show. Despite having heard about this act before, this would be the first time you are about to witness an act of dominance. Your eyes are completely drawn to them at this knowledge. Just like how you were entranced by the intimate interaction that you witnessed earlier before leaving the ballroom, something about this pair captivates you. The amount of trust that the sub must have given to her domme seems astonishing and you can sense the connection between them even when they have yet to start going further.

With delicate movements, the woman with the butterfly mask begins circling her bound-up partner slowly while watching carefully as the other continues to tremble in her place. There is a deep sense of fondness and affection that can be seen even from the way she is looking at her partner, a sense of pride that comes with her pleasure of seeing her sub giving complete control. She also appears to be keeping a close watch as if making sure that her sub isn’t having any trouble, though she also makes no move to reach out and touch her, opting to hover around, forcing the other to wait and anticipate her next move.

In your astonishment, you realise that you are beginning to feel the sub’s anticipation as if it becomes your own while you continue to watch, as you are waiting to see what is about to happen next. The air around you suddenly grows tense, while your body becomes even more sensitive to the touch, when your body shudders each time you brush against Jungkook or whenever he is leaning a bit too close.

“Do you think they know that we’re all here, watching them?” you turn to him to whisper this, hoping that your voice is drowned in the music so only he could hear.

With a smile on his face, Jungkook leans down so he could answer you with a whisper. “They won’t be able to see us, but I’m sure they know that there would be people here in this room, watching them act. I suppose that would be what they had expected to happen when they chose to enter that room,” he says, and his eyes begin to glimmer with mischief when he slowly adds, “Just like what Taehyung said, tonight is about sharing your pleasure with other people. And just like what we came to find when we first joined the club and what we both expected to find tonight, they would likely find the thrill of knowing that they have people watching every single thing they are doing, even if they can’t see us here or confirm that they actually have an audience.”

Deep down, you know all about the thrills of having someone watching you doing all the sinful things for the sake of pleasure. But being left guessing whether or not there are eyes watching or speculating how many people would be there to see, the idea seems even more thrilling now that you are watching them act. When the thought of being in that room to perform lewd acts had intimidated you earlier, it begins to excite you, causing your body to pulse around the same time you see them finally moving into action.

The masked domme stops walking around just then, and she makes a move to stand in front of her bounded partner before taking a few steps closer to her.

From then on, the scene begins to progress slowly.

Shifting from her original place, she positions her body to stand slightly to the side, as if she is deliberately making it easier for everyone to see what she is doing. It feels like she is performing not only for the sake of her partner’s pleasure but also for everyone else’s enjoyment when she moves her delicate fingers, reaching out to give a light pull on the small chain hanging across her sub’s breasts. A strained gasp is drawn from the latter from the sudden pain. Even if you cannot hear her voice clearly, you can almost hear it inside your head when her mouth falls open in her shock and pleasure.

The pull doesn’t seem strong enough to release the clamps from their tight bites, as they are still locked in place, though it still draws the reaction that the woman is searching for from her submissive partner. She continues to run her fingers along the chain, slightly lifting it up while she reaches down with her other hand to touch between her sub’s legs. You watch with hazy focus as she plays with her partner’s clit, one of the few kinds of physical connection which is still allowed by the club’s rules in order to help her partner reach her climax. Your gaze snaps up from her fingers just as she lifts another end of the chain, and only then do you finally notice the third clamp, hanging down low enough to reach her partner’s soaking pussy, a small chain attaching it to the other two clamps that are still clasping on her abused nipples with a tight grip.

With wide eyes, you take a deep breath as you soon realise what is about to happen.

The masked domme takes her time, taking things slowly as she continues tweaking her partner’s clit, stimulating it and making her wiggle against her restraints as she rolls her fingers through her folds and around the rosebud. Once her partner seems lost in pleasure, she finally moves on to the next step, taking the last clamp and attaching it onto her sub’s swollen clit. This time, the complete shock that rakes through her allows her voice to break through the music sounding around you. The contact draws out her scream as she fights against the restraint. The fight only lasts for a short while, however, when the domme’s touch on her partner’s skin seems to help her to slowly give in to the moment, for her to embrace the pain.

The entire scene feels intense, and you find it hard to look away. Watching the scene and imagining what she might be feeling, to imagine experiencing the pain and finding pleasure out of it sends a bolt of electricity down your body. It leaves you tingling, your core pulsing and every part of your body starts throbbing right where you imagine those clamps would be.

Your own partner soon reminds you of his presence as he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you back, pressing you tightly against his front so you can feel his heart beating rapidly and his warm breath falling on your hair as he watches the same scene in his astonishment. You can feel his erection not-so-subtly pressing against your backside, making your heart race faster and your knees grow weaker that you almost begin to quiver against him.

Though it seems like something else is beginning to take over you as well when you notice that you are slightly moving.

To your vivid imagination, your body has started to react accordingly without you having the chance to stop it. With each throb that you feel, your body twitches, and your hips sway backwards against Jungkook as if searching for leverage. Just as you incidentally start rubbing against his covered bulge, a moan slips out of you, snapping you out of it right before you get pulled too far into your need, and you stop yourself with a gasp.

You give a quick glance as subtly as you can to the nearest seats, hoping that nobody had caught up with your reaction. Though you have no doubt that Jungkook has noticed it, when he has his hands resting on your waist, holding you back and stopping you from pulling away. “Did they set up the music so loud to drown our voices?” you whisper to him as he bends lower, pressing his face against your cheek so he could hear the sound of your voice.

“Maybe it’s being set that way so they won’t be able to hear us from their side of the room. I suppose it would also help them get into the perfect headspace that they would have needed if they are listening to the same thing too, and forget the fact that there are other people on the other side of that glass,” he answers you with a whisper after chuckling softly, as if he knows that you are trying to cover your slip up. But then he nips at your earlobe teasingly, causing your body to shudder against him, and your skin grows warmer when he says, “Or maybe it’s for everyone in this room, so we won’t be able to hear each other.”

Jungkook’s cryptic words take time to sink in, as your mind has grown too hazy to focus. But then you begin to realise what he was trying to say, that he wasn’t specifically talking about the two of you or how your reaction may have gotten too noisy to attract attention. Slowly, you begin to realise that he was talking about everyone else.

Blinking your eyes, you turn your gaze away from the scene. The move is enough to finally snap your entire focus and you start noticing your surroundings, to finally be able to distinguish the muted sounds of hums and moans hidden behind the loud music, and that they are coming from somewhere much closer than you had thought.

Following the source of the sounds you are hearing, your eyes are drawn to the nearest occupied loveseats and the standing table a few feet away from you. The room is dark enough to hide their faces, and the high-back seats are barely enough to completely shield their bodies from your sight. But it takes no time for your eyes to re-adjust to the dark, to notice the shadowy figures in the room and the subtle movements that they are making as the lewd scene on the other side of the glass wall continues to progress.

The female guest on the nearest loveseat has her head tilted back and her chest rising and falling while her male partner bends over her, his face pressing against her neck. The shudders that are running through her are visible as she takes a deep breath, while you can guess what he is doing to her when you see the indistinct jerks that his shoulder and elbow are making beside her.

Another female guest standing behind the nearest high table seems to be swaying on her feet. Her hips are rocking in small, yet steady motions, pressing back against her male partner who still has his eyes on the scene before him. Then you notice a solo male guest sitting on a high-back armchair at the far corner of the room which is still visible from your viewpoint. While the armrests of his seat are able to cover half of his body and limbs, there is an unmistakable tremble rocking through his body. You can faintly see his heavy breathing as he slightly jerks in place, a sign that he isn’t remaining idle in his seat.

To your surprise, seeing their reaction and knowing that you are not the only one getting immediately affected only turns you on further. Turning back to the glass wall to watch the remaining scene, you press backwards against Jungkook, slightly lifting your hips up just so you can somehow come close to ease the pulses forming within your core. You can feel Jungkook’s chest quivering behind you as he releases a startled gasp, though he is quick to respond to you by placing his hands on your hips, holding you still and positioning you until you are settled in perfectly against him, where his covered hard-on is resting perfectly against the crack of your bottom.

Despite his action, you already have your focus back on the scene before you, immediately finding the masked domme moving actively in the room.

And you notice that she isn’t done with her sexual exploit just yet.

While you were stealing a chance to converse with Jungkook and taking in the scenes happening around you, she had slipped away to the table where the supplies had been set up, and she has now returned to her partner with a bright-coloured feather in her hand. Using the feather, she begins teasing her sub by circling its delicate tip around the clamps, starting from her breasts, down to her naked torso, before reaching down to her mounds below. The delicate touch of the feather seems to be causing her bound partner to start writhing against the pole and the restraint keeping her in place. Every move that her body makes is showing you that she is begging for relief. Yet her domme is showing no sign to rush forward to the next step anytime soon, when she only discards the feather to reach down, and begins playing with the vibrator by stroking in and out of the helpless sub’s pussy.

The cries that are now echoing from the showing room are no longer drowned as the masked sub is overcome with pleasure. You suppress a moan when the strokes continue, and when you see her body rocking violently as the vibrator seems to reach its deepest target, hitting her sweet spot that has her wailing in her pleasure. The muted moan still slips out of you in the end as you rock your hips against Jungkook’s crotch, his hands on your hips becoming the anchor that holds you up and keeps you from moving too hard, and then another moan escapes you when you can clearly see the telltale signs of her climax.

For a brief moment, you expect to see her being pushed to reach the end. But instead of proceeding, the masked domme halts every movement. She pulls her hand away, keeping the vibrator buried deep in her partner’s abused pussy. You can only imagine what the poor sub is going through at the moment, as you watch how her mouth falls open, her silent plea for release fades under the beat of the music.

A slow smile appears beneath the domme’s mask as she watches her partner tethering on the edge. You watch her lean down, whispering something to her partner’s ear while tracing her fingers on the tip of the vibrator.

Just then, you watch her pulling the clamp that has been biting the sub’s clit until it falls over, drawing out her cries. You barely have a moment to hold down your shocked gasp when you can faintly hear the humming sound of the vibrator inside her growing louder. An indisputable sound comes from between her legs just as you watch her body trembles, reaching you despite the loud music and the voices that are also beginning to grow louder around you, and your knees grow weak when you once again find yourself imagining being in her place. Your skin feels tight and the tingles that you have been feeling seem to escalate further, and it feels as if you are burning from the inside, when the heated area between your legs keeps pulsing and throbbing with every rock of her hips, as if you are the one indulging in the act of lust with everyone in the room with Jungkook assisting you.

“Are you feeling hot, baby?” he asks you in a soft whisper, with his lips brushing against your earlobe and his fingers running down your arms. Your whole body shudders to his touch. At this point, you are nothing more than a giant nerve ending ready to explode, but you hold back as much as you can just like what the naked sub is doing now.

“Are you feeling horny? Are you dripping wet from watching her trying to fight her own climax?” he asks again when you fail to answer him. Words seem to fail you when you are feeling so high, as if her rise to reach for climax has become yours and you are the one slowly unravelling and losing control.

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly when you finally manage to find your voice. A low chuckle rumbles from Jungkook’s chest as he leans in, his lips finding refuge in the nape of your neck as he hums.

“Are you picturing yourself in her place, baby?” he asks you, seeing how you are reacting to the scene before you. There is a hint of amusement in his voice, but there is also a glimmer of his own desire which you can hear in his voice as he whispers to you once more, “Would you want that, surrender your pleasure to someone else?”

To your surprise, and perhaps to his as well, the answer slips right out of you so quickly. “I would—I’d do it if it’s for you.”

As if your words become a spell, Jungkook pulls back slightly. His body grows still for a moment, while his eyes appear dilated as he looks at you. A slow smile grows on his face, and then he brushes his lips against your earlobe, causing you to shiver against him when he whispers, “I’ll remember that,” then kissing the skin on the nape of your neck right after. Then he tightens his hold on you to turn you back to the front, guiding you to put your attention back on the scene right when it reaches its climax. “Keep watching, baby. You wouldn’t want to miss a thing.”

Through your eyes, you see the bound woman rocking her hips, even when you still notice her holding on as best as she possibly could as she unmercifully comes to the edge. It almost seems as if she is completely entranced, however, that her body is reacting to her incoming release without her even realising it.

Your head is spinning, as your imagination once again takes you there, right in her place. Just like her, your own body begins to move on its own, and it is starting to tremble with how much you need to come. You squeeze the arm that Jungkook has around your waist, relieved to have him to cling onto when your body starts shaking harder. Before you can pull yourself together and clear your head, you watch how the masked domme speaks out her command, a bit more loudly for everyone to hear this time instead of just as a whisper when she says, “Cum.”

With that magical word, her partner finally let herself go, her hips begin rocking harder when she gives in to the waves of orgasm that are no doubt taking over her. The sight sends you spinning right towards the edge, and the desperate need for your own climax overcomes you that you swear it would only take one touch for you to explode. The trembles in your body grow more intense when you realise just how close you are to getting there. It becomes too much for you to handle that you are losing strength on your weakened knees and you cling onto Jungkook harder to stop yourself from falling.

Once again, you are relieved to have him as an anchor, because his arm that is still holding you tightly to him becomes the one holding you up when you watch the masked domme finishes up her act by pulling at the chain hanging across her partner’s breasts, giving a stern tug on them which releases the rest of the clamps one at a time, sending her beautiful partner into a final, blissful height.

She comes with a loud scream that echoes from their room, past the glass wall and into the room where you are watching them from. You can hear her voice so clearly despite all the voices around you and the loud beat of the music, and you can feel it piercing through your body, almost pushing you to reach your own without even a single touch. You feel as if you are floating so high with your desire reaching its highest peak.

It should be sending you to a dreamy bliss, yet you can still feel it when Jungkook suddenly begins to move, when the arm that has been holding you against him tightens with a possessive hold. Then your senses become more alert when his other hand starts creeping down your body, brushing against the curves of your waist and hips before it slowly makes its way down, all the way to your pulsing center.

Your breath catches as you begin to realise what he is up to and your heartbeat races wildly in your chest as you feel his hand reaching lower, and lower, and—

—Jungkook—

There are really no words to explain what I am currently feeling.

One thing for sure is that I have never experienced something as exhilarating as what I have been through tonight. There was not a moment where I didn’t find myself feeling astounded and amused, and it was quite surprising to find that never once had I felt any aversion towards the scenes happening around me, nor did I ever feel so out of place.

As I continued roaming through the event, witnessing all the public displays of sexual exploitation, I began to understand everything a bit more. About the club, the pleasure that they offer, and mostly about the safe space that they provided for everyone who comes searching for it. And I could finally see the magic that this place had created from having a closer look at the people who are here tonight, embracing their true selves without any inhibitions and enjoying their freedom without having to worry about the outside world.

It has woken up something inside me that I had never known existed. Every reservation that I have had for this club before seems to fly out the window when I realise how different my life had become ever since I came to be a part of this club. How they have given new colours into my life.

But most importantly, how they have given me the chance to meet her, to allow me to find someone who understands my needs and has given my life a new meaning.

And the best part of it is having her here with me. To be sharing this experience together with her and knowing that I have found someone who is searching for something similar to what my soul has been seeking only amplifies the whole sensation I was engaging. Her presence makes all the difference in opening my eyes to this moment, and there is nothing sexier than watching her reaction to everything that we had witnessed, to watch her response to the scenes that were unfolding around us.

It has always astonished me how she can always be so open, how she would always have a clear expression that could easily help me understand what she is feeling, and could sometimes help me guess what is going through her mind. The way she has been so open to the things that we have encountered so far isn’t too surprising. Her curiosity and the deep interest that she has in the event have been the force that helps drive the two of us to continue learning, to try and embrace the uncharted territory that we are currently in, and it was also what had led us both here, engaging with yet another part of the club that is completely new for the both of us.

During the entire time we are together, never once I had taken my attention away from my own partner.

The sight of her getting completely enamoured at the scenes we saw in the main ballroom was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The desire in her eyes was so clear, dancing wildly like a flame as she watched everything with rapt attention. The way she nearly unravelled when we both made a stop at the last public stage, watching the pair of lovers exchanging their wanton needs in such an intimate way, had me close to holding her tightly in my arms. I have no clue if the urge had simply come from my desire to let her freely embrace her pleasure, or if I wanted to hide her from the prying eyes coming from around us.

Even as I continuously kept my eyes on her, I never failed to notice all the gazes that kept following us. Following her. It was quite obvious that I wasn’t the only one who had noticed the alluring way she was showing while indulging in the event, when her desire was shown as clear as day even in the dark, dimly lighted room. And never once had she noticed how captivating she was in her reactions as she was standing right in the middle of so many people exchanging their desire so openly with one another. Not only had she drawn other people’s attention, but she was also drawing their interest, no doubt wondering the same thing as I was—what kind of expression would she be showing if she was up there, embracing her pleasure in front of so many people? What kind of sound would she be making when that happens?

The way she reached out to me, seeking out for my touch during the entire thing had given me a sense of pride. Knowing that she was there with me, and that I was the one who got to hold her while she was quivering with the sensation rushing through her had made me realise just how lucky I have been to be chosen by her. And I love the sensation that I felt from touching her, when every single contact we made was more than enough to allow me to feel everything that she was feeling. Ever since then, I simply gave in to the moment, embracing the experience while giving her the complete freedom to pick the course for both of us.

Until we finally found our way into this room.

Watching the entire scene unfolding before us had affected me so badly, but it was her reaction to everything which has escalated it entirely. I had to hold back the best I could from going over the edge when I felt her body trembling with need, and how every shudder coming out of her body kept arousing my own desire.

As the scene continues towards its climax, her body seems to be taken over by her senses and needs that she doesn’t realise it when her body begins to react on its own. The first moment she begins grinding me almost sends me to the edge, but I do my best to hold it together. In turn, I focus on her. Judging from her heavy breathing and the tension rolling through her body, I know that at this point, she is already so close to plunging over the edge.

All she needs is a little push.

“Are you feeling horny? Are you dripping wet from watching her trying to fight her own climax?” I whisper to her, drawing her attention back to me when she seems so lost in the moment.

“Yes,” she whispers back to me, her voice shaking as she takes a deep breath. She hasn’t noticed that her fingers are sinking into my arm.

“Are you picturing yourself in her place, baby?” I ask her again when I notice how every sway of her body seems to match the bound player before us who keeps trembling intensely against the pole, struggling in her fight to hold back from coming to her climax without her domme’s permission. Taking a deep breath, I hold myself together the best I can so my voice wouldn’t shake when I ask her, “Would you want that, surrender your pleasure to someone else?”

She gasps a little before answering, “I would—I’d do it if it’s for you.”

Her direct answer takes the air right out of my chest, and my body burns hot just thinking about her, about us, taking place in the other room. Gritting my teeth, I fight the urge to kiss her and guide her to focus on the scene. “Keep watching, baby. You wouldn’t want to miss a thing.”

As she continues watching, the shudders rushing through her body grow immensely. From her back, I can feel her rapid heartbeat and her ragged breathing. As I glance down at her face, I can see the familiar light coming out of her eyes. The more she is drawn into the scene, the clearer the desire in her eyes becomes.

“Are you wet down there, baby? Is your pussy throbbing when you’re watching her cum?” I ask her as her body trembles against me. I pull her back to me, grunting in pain when her bottom is pressing on my hard-on. I suck a deep breath to stop myself from rocking against her, though I make no move to stop her from doing so to me. “Do you want to feel it too?”

I’m not sure if she can hear me questioning her. She seems so lost in the moment. As if a fog has covered her senses, and she is letting it take control of her body as she continues to rub her legs together while pushing back to me. I choose not to wait to hear her answer as I reach down, my hand travelling down her body, growing much lower than her rocking hips. It doesn’t take long for me to find the hem of her dress. With a sigh of relief, I am pleased with her decision to pick something short and tight, making it easy for me to pull the hem upward and slip my fingers underneath the fabric. The fact that the hem of her dress has risen up without her realising it while she was grinding her hips against my cock seems to be a blessing in disguise.

Even the heels that she is wearing tonight have been adequate, as they have given her enough height to make it easier for me to reach down even while we are both standing. The high table is enough to hide what I am doing from the other guests using this room, as I pull my hand back up, until the tips of my fingers reach the thin layer of fabric covering her hot pussy.

I feel her shudder and her hips twitch as I brush gently across her covered folds. The silky fabric has grown damp, soaked completely by her arousal, and it draws a smile to my face knowing how badly she had been affected by the show that we are witnessing together. I keep rubbing her folds from over her panties, quickly finding her covered slit before my finger comes in contact with what seems to be her clit. Her breathing grows more ragged as I keep on touching her, shuddering with each intake of breath as she tries to hold back. I don’t waste my time and find the edges of her panties, pushing them aside so I could slide my fingers in to find her skin.

Just as expected, I find her completely wet, her slickness dripping out of her further when I rub my fingers across her sensitive skin. I could almost smell it, the intoxicating scent that I have always enjoyed tasting on my tongue, and I could feel the familiar pulse welcoming me as I slowly slide my fingers between her folds.

I wanted to tease her, to put her on the edge for a little while longer until she detonates under my touch. But a quick look back at the showing room next door lets me know that we don’t have that much time left, when I can see that the pair or lovers are in the middle of finishing up their act, with the dominant partner gently caring her sub to help her come down from what had been the most intense climax I have ever witnessed with my own two eyes.

My own partner has her eyes nearly closed. Her body flinches briefly when my fingers come in contact with her swollen clit. The slickness that has been building up from her pussy is making it easy for me to move my fingers up and down her slit, back and forth, grazing against her wet entrance and her clit until she begins shaking against me.

She sways on her legs when I lightly press my fingers on her clit again, so I tighten my arm around her waist to keep her from stumbling and gaining attention from the other guests around us. Once I have her steadied against my chest, I continue what I was doing, and move my fingers to find her wet opening.

“So wet…,” I whisper to her as I slowly slide my fingers into her pussy. Her pussy pulses around me from being impaled by my fingers, but she makes no move to push me away or stop me. She still has her eyes on the other room, yet her body welcomes me. Her hips are lifted as if she is trying to give me the right angle to push deeper, which is exactly what I do next. Yet it doesn’t stop me from taunting her when her glossy eyes are still directed at the lovely couple before us.

I turn to look at them again, seeing exactly what she is watching. The woman with the butterfly wings mask, the domme, has released the bind that had restrained her partner onto the pole, and she is now leaning down to kiss every mark left behind on her partner’s wrists, soothing them from pain. The act seems so intimate, something that I know would entice ____ even more, just the same way it did to her with the scene that we had witnessed back in the main ballroom.

“Do you like watching them?”

A soft hum and a sigh are all I am getting from her. “Hmm—”

“Answer me, baby. Tell me what you like,” I ask her again. I lean down to start kissing the side of her neck this time, all while I begin moving my fingers in and out of her. I keep the movement slow and subtle, not enough to startle her or draw a big reaction from her but enough to cause her muscles to start fluttering around me, clenching and pulsing more intensely as I carry on.

“Yes, I like it. I like to watch,” she breathlessly says, her voice so thin that I could barely hear her. But I can feel the quiver coming out of her chest as she sucks a deep breath, finally realising that my intruding has escalated into the next step as I press deeper into her, pushing just a tad bit harder each time I come in, and enjoying the wonderful feeling of her arousal leaking out and coating my fingers in every thrust.

“Hmm, I can tell. You’re soaking, baby. And you’re so tight,” I whisper to her. Once again, her pussy walls pulse and clench into me. From the corner of my eyes, I watch the domme behind the glass gently covering her partner with a silky robe, leaving it open instead of covering the tender skin of her breasts with the fabric. Unsurprisingly, the loving gesture seems to trigger ____, as she sways into me, pushing down into my fingers with her hands clutching tightly on my arm to hold on. “Do you want to cum? Are you close?”

She gasps, and her pussy tightens around me. I pull my fingers gently back out before thrusting them back in, pushing all the way in until I draw another gasp from her. And then her entire body grows tight when I move my thumb to give her swollen clit a light brush. “Yes, Jungkook. I’d love to cum,” she says, nearly whining. Keeping a tight grip on my forearm, she begins moving her hips subtly. It seems as if her body is reacting without her control, as he humps against me, sliding down to meet each thrust of my hand inside her then coming back to rub against my cock. At this point, she is not the only one who is high-strung with need, when I can feel my own need for climax rising slowly as she keeps humping against me.

“Such a sweet one. You are always so polite and so sweet,” I whisper to her while gritting my teeth. I try to distract myself and focus on her, keeping my lips pressed on her skin to ignore the rush of blood gathering along the length of my cock. My pants feel so tight with how hard I’ve become. My body is burning hot that I feel like I can burst open. But I want her to find her pleasure first. I want to watch her unravel, and I want to be the one to give it to her first.

Soon, her breathing starts to pick up, and I can feel her growing wetter and tighter, and the steady pulse inside her keeps growing more intense. Another gasp comes out of her as her muscles flutter around me, the sign of her orgasm coming to her so fiercely. I watch the scene in front of us, waiting for the right moment to send her over the edge. I know that she is holding out for me, and she wouldn’t let herself go until I let her.

As if we were the players in the other room, and she had been the restrained partner and I was the one running the show, guiding her to embrace her pleasure.

My eyes turn to follow her gaze, and while I continue fucking her with my fingers, we watch together as the female dom leans down, capturing her partner’s abused nipple into her mouth, sending the latter shaking in her hold as she embraces her final climax. As I watch her head falls back, I feel _____’s head falling back against my shoulder, and that is when I push her over the edge that she has been so desperately clinging onto.

“Let go, baby. Cum around my fingers. Let me feel it,” I whisper to her as I push my fingers against the source of her pulse, and she erupts beautifully with a muffled cry.

Seems like, in her pleasure, she has forgotten to control her reaction, forgetting that we are still surrounded by strangers. Perhaps she is too lost in her orgasm that she just loses control, and the sound of cries that she makes nearly penetrates through the loud music still playing across the room. Thankfully, everyone around us seems preoccupied with their own acts to notice her voice, or the way she is riding my hand behind the table. A few moans can be heard from close by, indicating that she is not the only one embracing her pleasure in the middle of the scene.

But the other people in the room don’t matter to me. The only one that matters at this moment is her, and I simply keep my attention on her. The sight of her embracing her climax has always been a marvellous thing to witness. The way she simply succumbs to the waves running through her body, how free she looks as she gives in to her wanton needs. As I continue moving my fingers in and out of her, slowing down its pace little by little until I can feel the pulses pressing against me subsiding, her hips continue to rock against me as she rides through her orgasm.

My own desire remains unleashed, and my cock is still rock hard in my pants that I feel so incredibly tight down there. Every time she brushes against me, she puts me so much closer to my impending release. She isn’t the only one who has been feeling so high-strung with pent-up desire, but I try to hold on, wanting to share it with her the way she is now sharing her glorious climax with me.

Soon, I remind myself, as I continue to admire my beautiful partner, as the serene look I am seeing on her face tramples everything else that we are experiencing tonight. I wait until all the trembles and shudders in her body begin to wind down before I finally stop myself, giving her a break right before another flutter appears inside her when I try to pull my fingers away from her depth.

“Was it enough, baby? Or do you want more?” I ask her as she slowly settles against me, her body slowly growing lax in my arm. Yet I still have my fingers buried deep inside her, snug against the very same spot that had set her off. The spasms of her climax are beginning to tone down, but the way her muscles are clenching around me seems to show me that her body still holds the flame of her desire, one that might have been building up since we first arrived in this place and is barely suppressed completely even after her release.

The soft moan that she makes, followed by the gentle pulse her pussy gives me as I keep pressing at that spot inside her becomes the answer that I need. I pull my fingers out of her, snapping her out of her fog. That is when she turns to me, burying her face into my neck as she rides the last shudder that her body makes. I feel her warm breath on my skin before she nods.

Yes. More.

“Should we go back out there and take the stage?” I tease her while I slowly raise my hand, ready to taste her. She opens her eyes, watching silently as I move my hand up as if she is entranced by the act. But as I gently tug the hem of her dress back down with my other hand to help her fix her appearance before we can find the chance to slip out of this room, her eyes light up, and my offer belatedly sinks in.

She looks up at me, surprised, then quickly shakes her head. “Alright, then. A room, then? Should we take one of the vacant showing rooms, or should we find a private room and have a moment for the two of us the way you wanted it to?”

I keep my eyes on her as I bring my hand up to my lips, each finger still coated with her release. I am ready to finally have a taste of her essence when she stops me. “The private room, please,” she answers as brings my hand to her lips. Once again, her gaze comes up to meet mine and my breath instantly stops. She opens her lips and starts licking my fingers, tasting herself. “I’m not sharing you with anybody else. Not tonight. I only want to cum for you.”

Holding back a sigh of relief, I only give her a smile, hiding the fact that not only did her words spark up my pride, but she had also brought my cock back to life that it starts throbbing against my tight pants. “Good. I have no intentions of sharing you with others as well,” I whisper to her before leaning in to capture her lips, stealing a chaste kiss before anyone would caught us.

The moment I pull away, she seems shocked. Though I am not too sure if it had been the kiss or my confession which surprised her.

But I meant everything that I said to her about keeping her solely to myself. Out of nowhere, I feel a hint of jealousy when I imagine her being put on display. I don’t normally feel possessive over something or anyone that I am with, but there is a sense of greed that I am feeling about keeping her pleasure to myself.

We take a brief moment to make sure that we are presentable before finally making a move. With her hand in mine, we turn to find our way out of the Viewing Room.

My heartbeat begins to race again as she slides closer to my side. Excitement and anticipation come rolling through me as we embark on another adventure together, both of us determined to make this magical night worthwhile and indulge the best way we can until the end.

— © 2022 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[fruvittea]

hi can u write an angsty love triangle with jake and jay from enhypen pls <3

whispers in the rain ✧˚ · . part one

— ✺ pairing: jay x reader x jake

— ✺ genre: slice of life, angst, suggestive, fluff, childhood best friend, love triangle, college au, slow burn

— ✺ synopsis: jay is your childhood best friend. that’s all he will ever be. a summer with jay and his friends changes how you feel for him when jake comes into your life. and jay begins to think that was a mistake.

— ✺ warnings: for this part none so far

— ✺ word count: 1.6k

— ✺ authors note! hi thank you so much for reading, this is my first fic with multiple parts that i will be writing hope you guys like it :)

part 1 | …

Ever since you bumped heads with Jay in the 3rd grade you two have been inseparable since. Both your mothers had thought you two would end up getting married. That is not the case. Friends are what you are and what you will remain to be. Jay has never shown any romantic feelings for you. As cold as he may seem to be, you never felt the possibility of him feeling more for you. After all, he dated girls left and right. And none of them were the one in his eyes.. So what made you think that you were? Having a long time crush on a friend can be exhausting and at some point it becomes embarrassing. So by the time you and Jay graduated that was when the feelings were stored deep away. Never to be seen again.

“You know you really should get out there…get to know some people.” Is what your friends would say. Telling you to not mope about Jay if you weren’t going to do anything about it.

They were right. But you were stubborn. Of course you weren’t going to do anything about your crush. But you didn’t want to let go of your feelings for him. There was just a sliver of hope left in you.

“Okay fine I’ll explore other options.” You lied.

That was two years ago. Now, you're in your 2nd year of college going into your 3rd. No significant other. Just pointless dates that never went anywhere. Jay on the other hand was thriving hundreds of miles away from you. You hated the fact that he occupied your mind every now and then. Every so often the two of you would talk on the phone, just to catch up. Nothing further. You two hadn’t seen each other since summer. And you did miss your best friend.

It was towards the end of finals. You were studying for the last one. Last one and then you were free. Eyes glued to the computer you focused on the endless number of lessons you missed.

ring ring ring

Turning towards your phone charging on the bed side table you noticed that Jay’s name was on the screen. Studying can wait. You picked up the phone bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, what are you doing for summer?”

“Nothing yet…why?”

“Come with me to the East Coast. You remember the beach house my parents own? I’m inviting a few friends to stay. I think you’ll like them. It’ll be for half the summer, maybe longer if we feel like it.”

Your eyes widened. “This is so sudden. I don’t know if I can. I mea-”

“My mom talked to yours’, she said you were free.”

You blinked. Of course she did. “Okay, well, then consider me there.”

“Perfect, see you then.” He hung up

You stretched your hands before continuing to type away. But the sudden invite did cause you to stray away from focusing on your studies. Who were the few other friends? When were you leaving? Where were you staying? This took over your mind. What a great way to distract you from studying.

next day

“So he just asked you to stay with him in the East Coast during the summer?”

“Yeah.”

“Just you two?”

“No.”

“Oh. Bummer.” You were telling your one (and only really) friend Amara. You two decided to go to the same college after graduation and have been close since.

“You’re still so hung up on him. Like why don’t you just confess. It’ll be good to get the rejection out of the way.” She said doing her school work.

You lifted your head from the desk. “Well it’s not that easy. And also rejection is the whole point. I don’t want to be even though I know I will be.”

“You needa figure this out. It’s been years. And when I say years I mean YEARS.”

You roll your eyes at your friend burning holes into your body as she stares you down. “Yeah.” You sigh. She’s right.

“Well, I’m leaving next week once I get back home.” You say continuing your work.

“Really? That sudden?”

“Yup, he texted me last night letting me know the extra details. He’s mentioned before that his family has a beach house and I’ve never been invited until today. It’s in Delaware, of all places.”

“Ohhh his daddy’s got money I see.”

You chuckle at her statement. “I am excited though.”

“Who knows things may change between you two. And for the better.”

“Mmm I highly doubt it, but a girl can only hope.”

“You gotta stop being so hard on yourself y/n, really.”

time skip

You wiped the hair out of your face as you got the last of your things together. Two carry ons and one large backpack. It didn’t seem like enough. But it was going to have to do. Besides, some shopping out there wouldn’t hurt. The screen of your phone lit up.

I’m here. The text was from Jay. He wanted to pick you up for your guy's flight.

As you were getting ready to haul everything to the car you heard the footsteps of your mom getting closer and closer. “Honey, you ready?”

“Yes, I am just about to load everything into the car.”

“You know I won’t be mad if something happens between you and Jay.”

“Mom, enough. It’s not like that.”

“You might say so, but I see how that boy looks at you.”

“Well you’re wrong. Can you please help me?” A second pair of footsteps came closer.

knock knock

“Hi Mrs. L/n. Hi y/n.” It was Jay. Did he hear the whole conversation between you and your mom? You cursed yourself silently as he came up to you engulfing you in a hug. His scent reaching your nose, intoxicating you.

“Wow, you smell good.” He said pulling away. His tone was almost nervous.

You try not to blush. “Thank you, I guess. I didn’t even put anything on yet. I was actually about to say the same for you.”

“There’s no need to for you.” The two of you stood there for a second, his eyes to the ground yours on him, before your mom cleared her throat. Indicating for you two to get moving.

“Oh right, I’ll take these, we’re going to be late.” He picked up the two carry ons, one in each hand, in a rushed manner.

“Have fun you two!” Your mom shouted from the driveway before Jay sped off in his car.

It was quiet. Eerily quiet. Something was on his mind you could tell. Glancing over to the man you noticed his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.

“So,” he broke the silence, “how have you been?”

“Oh, uh, I’ve been good, just tired from studying for finals.” You sigh.

“Tell me about it. But don’t worry our trip will take the weight off your shoulders. There are some people I’d like you to meet. I think you guys will click pretty well.”

You kept silent. Hopefully. You noticed from the corner of your eye him turning his head toward you a couple times.

“Hey, are you good, you’re pretty quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m good just tired, I woke up early to pack.”

He smiled. “Of course you did. Always been the same since high school.”

You lightly laughed before closing your eyes while he drove to the airport. Jay noticed your body slump. He gave you one last look before continuing to focus on the road.

“Y/n…Y/N. It’s time to wake up, I’ve already parked.” His voice so delicate as if he was trying to put you back to sleep. You opened your eyes, Jay’s face was inches from your trying to make sure you were going to wake up.

“Come on sleeping beauty, we gotta go.” You finally process where you are while getting out of the car. You both grab your stuff and head to the terminal. All of your belongings stacked up nicely into the cart, both tickets in your hand while Jay pushed the cart. The two of you made your way to the terminal after security.

“The gate is this way.” Jay walks ahead of you towards a group of young guys. You cautiously walk behind your friend. Meeting people has always been difficult, now meeting a group of guys? This was going to be a long trip. Jay turns around motioning for you to walk faster. Finally reaching the group of guys you made eye contact with the lot of them. They were all cute for lack of better words.

“These are my friends from college. Jungwon, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Niki, Heesung, and Jake.”

They all gave you a wave or smile, kindly introducing themselves to you. You took in the presence of the group fixating on- what was his name? Jake? He was pretty.

“So you’re y/n? Jay always talks about you, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Jake.” The tall man makes his way to you reaching out his hand for you to shake it. His eyes meeting yours, there was a sort of sparkle to them. He seemed interesting.

“It’s nice to meet you too --all of you.” You smile trying to hide your nervousness. Suddenly the announcement for the flight surrounded the terminal.

“Okay shall we get on the plane?” Jay gave a smile before having everyone walk over.

“Jay switch with me, I wanna get to know Y/n more.” You heard Jake whisper to Jay. You could see Jay’s smirk from the corner of your eye.

“Okay, here ya go,” he exchanges the ticket with Jake.

You walk up past them a bit, acting oblivious to the conversation.

“Hey, y/n. Looks like we’re sitting next to each other.” He flashed his ticket to you with a smile on his face.

“Oh nice, we can get to know each other.” You smile back. You were hoping to sit with Jay but his pretty friend will do.

[sherifftillman]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 9.2k

A/N: Thanks for being patient! I know this one took longer than the other two, but yeah. Back pain is no joke, and also, as you can see, this became somewhat of a monolith lol. This whole fic is my most favourite thing to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3

Also, apologies for the horrific photoshop job I did trying to recreate a certain social media layout, lol.

The first few weeks of living with Ralph are certainly… An experience. You’re able to teach him how to cook basic freezer meals, how to use a hob and the importance of never taking your attention away from food when you’re preparing it. He’s got his favourite TV shows, especially now that you’ve trusted him with access to your streaming services, too - though you did have to make him a separate profile on your account when your current obsession had been drowned out in your Continue Watching queue by Ralph watching half an hour of whatever was showing up first, giving up and moving onto the next thing. He’s got a rapport as “that eccentric young man who lives in flat 912”, who befriends all the local outdoor cats and bows to everyone he makes eye contact with. Plus, with all the extra attention Ralph gives them while you’re not there, your plants have been thriving more than ever.

Another morning of waking up on the sofa. You reach blindly for the pain relief and water bottle you now keep close to you and chug them down before peeling yourself away. At least today is a day off. Except it isn’t really, as you’re reminded when you hear the shower going. You’re still a full-time Ralph-sitter. You decide to treat the pair of you to a full breakfast, something that your new housemate had considered “grotesque” as “grease is not a food group”, but you’d acclimated him to it eventually. As long as you cut him some bread soldiers to dip into the yolks of his eggs. That’s his favourite part.

You scroll through Spotify on your phone to see what playlist you’ll ask your Echo to play for you. It recommends, based on your recent listening (by which it obviously means the battle your algorithm faces trying to find common ground between your music taste and Ralph’s), an electro-swing playlist. Excited, you ask Alexa to play the playlist as it’s titled, and start bouncing along to it as you get everything out to start cooking.

Ralph emerges, hair still wet, with a smile on his face. “Good morning!” You understand and appreciate his efforts to try and blend in a little more aesthetically, but arguably the worst thing your friends have convinced Ralph is that he looks better with a bit of facial hair. Which, of course, is true, but that’s what makes it so terrible for you. “What is this?!”

You shrug, “Dunno, it said electro-swing and I figured that sounds like the perfect mix of both of us. You like it?”

Ralph nods, “I mean, it’s certainly not the classics, but I could definitely get used to this!” He starts moving his feet in very deliberate ways, and you smirk at him.

“Did you ever learn how to swing dance, by any chance?”

“Guilty!” he lilts, rolling his eyes up. No matter how much he may try to look like a 21st century man, he’s still unmistakably Ralph. “Yes, Mother got Victoria and I enrolled in a school to get us out of the house. Father wanted me to join some new-fangled group, the Scouts?” You’d think you’d be used to all the culture shocks by now, but hearing that Ralph could have been one of the first ever Scouts still knocks the wind out of you a little. Ralph, completely unaware, continues rambling, “Yes, but it was all… Swimming and climbing and… Outdoor survival,” he shudders. “So, Mother sent me away with Victoria to her dance classes.”

“Were you any good? Or did you enjoy it, at least?” you ask.

Ralph smiles as his head bobs with excitement, “I was rather exemplary, yes! Ms Lillian often paired Victoria and I together, knowing we could practise at home as well, though when we got to a… Certain age, Victoria decided she would rather have other male partners.” You can tell from the sadness in Ralph’s tone what he’s about to say next. “And, well, she was on such good terms with the other girls in the group that… Well, none of them wanted to be paired with little brother Ralph, so the teacher was my partner. ‘Little brother’, I ask you, only by twelve minutes!” he starts to mutter under his breath.

An urge swells within you to find Homeless Pete, insist he find a way to fix that time machine up as soon as possible, and travel back to that time just to shove every one of those rich little brats. Instead, you focus that energy on comforting Ralph, reaching your arms around his shoulders in a quick hug. “I’m sorry, mate. Though, I don’t suppose you remember those moves you learned?”

His eyes light up. “I certainly do! Did you want to learn how to? The teacher did say I was quite the natural, I could teach you if you wanted!”

You grin, “I’d love nothing more.”

You spend the best part of an hour learning how to do things like the Charleston Step, the bow tie and the one that Ralph calls one turns, two turns, which you can tell is his favourite based on the smile he gets when it’s his turn to get twirled around.

Eventually, you heave with exhaustion. “Well, that’s worked up the old appetite, though I dunno how I’m gonna cook when I can barely feel my legs!”

Ralph giggles, “Oh, please, that was nothing! Ms Lillian would have you in tatters.” You give him a death stare and he stops laughing immediately. “Would you like me to get us something from the baker’s? I could get you some of those doughed nuts that you enjoy.”

“For the last time, Ralph, doughnuts don’t actually contain nuts and you can have some yourself, too!” you groan as you start replacing everything you’d taken out of the fridge.

Ralph tuts, shaking his head. “I have no interest in your nuts, thank you.” That’s one to send to Scott and Connor later, you think to yourself as you open up your phone and add to the note “Ralph Quotes”. “Perhaps the nice old lady who calls me chap will be there,” he muses with a small smile, “I like her.”

“Hop to it, then, old sport,” you say in a mock-posh voice, earning you a glare from Ralph, which only makes you laugh as you make your own way to the shower.

When you’re out and dressed for the day - in the clothes Ralph had worn on his first night with you, but only because they’re your go-to comfort clothes anyway and you don’t exactly plan on leaving the flat - you go through your usual routine of checking the news app for the headlines, and then the trending topics on Twitter, just to see if there’s anything your friends will be talking about. 

You giggle at the fact that the name Ralph is trending, screenshotting it to send to the group chat later. Out of curiosity as to which Ralph the internet is obsessing over today, you tap it and scroll through. It’s mostly people in fandoms, making threads called ‘[series] as ralph tweets’. The “ralph tweets” in question seem to be of someone tweeting as though they think Twitter works in the same way as Google.

Your stomach drops as you realise some of them look a little too familiar. Almost as though you know a Ralph who’d be this far out of touch with the modern world. Almost as though you could track the very conversations that would lead to some of these to that particular Ralph.

You click through to the profile @RalphOnTwitter and scroll all the way down to see exactly when he must have gotten an account:

You send a single message in the group chat: GROUP MEETING, MY FLAT, ASAP. ALL MUST ATTEND.

Your friends all arrive relatively quickly after that. You simply herd them all onto the sofa one by one until the last of them has arrived, but just as you’re about to lay into them, the man of the hour arrives, having fumbled with the lock for a good minute with his arms full of baked goods.

“Ah, good morning, all! It’s a good job you’re all here, it was that young woman serving today and she always gives me extra food even though I don’t ask for it or pay for it, I don’t know why -”

“It’s ‘cause she fancies you, mate,” Connor grins, causing Ralph’s ears to turn a vibrant shade of red.

“Can we please discuss Ralph’s love life another time?!” you interrupt. “I need to know which of you is responsible for giving him access to a Twitter account.”

You know Anna’s in the clear, you’d been helping her in the kitchen, but the other three look at each other shiftily. “Well, it was sort of all of us? We just thought it might be fun to teach him,” Grace explains. “It’s not often you meet someone who’s never heard of social media.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “Ralph,” you call out, eyes still closed, “what do you do when you need to know the answer to something?”

“I do what you taught me when you first gave me my phone,” Ralph answers, perplexed. “I tap the very last square, I type in my question and I wait for an answer. A lot of them are just people being rude, but eventually someone will be helpful.”

“Sounds about right,” you groan, rubbing your face.

“Wait, you mean, you still do that even after we put - you didn’t think to just move one to the -” Scott’s eyes widen. “Oh, god.”

“Why would it move?!” Ralph asks, taking a bite out of his favourite pastry and chewing anxiously.

Anna starts giggling as she scrolls through his account, “Aww, but it’s so funny! And it’s not hurting anyone, what’s the damage in it?”

The fact he’s not supposed to be alive and yet he’s suddenly very much perceived, maybe? The fact he could accidentally tweet something that would give him away? The fact he could tweet something vastly inappropriate at any moment?

“Yeah, you could really capitalise on him while he’s here,” Connor smirks. “Get him on Instagram, too, get those brand deals coming.”

“Yeah! Ralph On Twitter’s face reveal, make it a whole thing,” Grace grins.

You sigh. “I dunno. It feels like a really bad idea.” You look at Ralph, who looks blankly back at you. “But… Maybe we could make something of you. As long as I’m your PR manager, obviously, and you don’t go talking directly to anyone.”

“I don’t think I know how,” Ralph shakes his head, “I thought it was the searching thing that you’d told me about.”

“Good. Never learn,” you point at him, “and give me your phone.” Your friends all cheer as they crowd around you, watching you download Instagram onto his phone, as well. You give him the handle @ralphoninsta “to keep the brand alive,” you explain as you set up his profile.

“Now we need a good first photo,” Scott holds his fingers and thumbs up in a rectangle shape to frame Ralph in his own field of vision. “Let’s get him into some good lighting.”

Sitting him in the best-lit corner of the flat, Scott insists on playing photographer, telling Ralph to sit and smile. However, Ralph does not seem to do well in front of the camera. He sits bolt upright, every part of him looking stiff and uncomfortable, and his smile isn’t right. It’s far too forced, it shows all his teeth and yet somehow the smile itself stretches beyond them. “Maybe we should take him out and about, get some candid shots of him,” Anna suggests.

You groan, having just started on your second doughnut. “Fine! I’ll leave the house today, but I won’t be pleased about it!” You shake your half-eaten breakfast at your friends, who laugh. “And you guys better come eat these, too, Ralph wasn’t kidding about these freebies.” You hold out another doughnut and wave it in Ralph’s direction, “Sure I can’t tempt you with one?”

He leaps onto his feet and backs away from you, “How many times must I ask you to keep your doughed nuts out of my face, please!” As expected, Scott and Connor crease up in laughter.

“You’ll love ‘em when you try ‘em, Ralphie,” you grin, taking another bite of your own, but Ralph isn’t as amused by it all.

Once you’re all adequately full, you begrudgingly throw on a hoodie and go out with everyone else, trying to find the right lighting, the right backdrop. Even with everything, Ralph just doesn’t seem to pose very well. His posture becomes so much more awkward and his facial expressions just aren’t… Ralph.

When he starts to express his apathy for the whole thing, you think of one more thing that might help. Standing him in front of a brick wall, you position Scott and set his phone camera to video, earning you an, “Ahh, good shout.”

Scott starts recording as Ralph stands in place, looking over at all of you. “So, what is it I’m supposed to do, now? Do I have to pose again? How?”

You shrug, “I dunno, just… Be Ralph. Stand however you want. Look however you want. Just, keep it moving around, yeah?”

He may still look a little awkward but you’re able to get him to do plenty, at least. Getting him comfortable is easy enough, you start getting him talking about his new favourite TV programmes and he very vaguely - and mostly not entirely correctly - describes the plots of them, with all the excited sincerity of a lifelong fan. Grace also asks him about his favourite local cats he’s befriended whenever he’s been out and about, which he lists happily and extensively. 

When Scott feels as though he’s got some good angles, he stops recording and you all crowd around him to review the footage together. While you all have different opinions on which angles are best, you can all agree on one thing - Ralph certainly photographs far, far better candidly. You all eventually settle on pausing and screenshotting at two specific moments, though Ralph is still perplexed. “But I’m not posed for either of those pictures, doesn’t that make them bad? I mean, I’m not even looking in that second one!” He points to a shot where he’s looking down, itching his jaw.

“No, trust me, it’s fine, they’re great,” you insist, maybe a little too quickly. Nobody seems to have noticed, though. Thankfully.

“And in this one, the sun is in my eyes! I’m all squinty!” He frowns, swiping to the previous shot.

“That’s called a smoulder, babes, everyone loves a smoulder.” You watch in amusement as Ralph’s ears turn pink at Grace’s words. No matter how many times you’ve told him that Grace calls everyone by that name, it still gets Ralph all nervous to be referred to by it himself. “You’re a natural, when you’re not actually trying.”

“Is that a good thing?” Ralph asks, his eyes darting around the group to gauge everyone’s reactions.

Anna nods, “It shows promise, right, Scott? Scott’s big into his photography shit, he’s got a proper camera and everything, don’t you?”

Scott nods. “If you ever wanted to try and get more comfortable with it, we could definitely shoot together sometime.”

Ralph shuffles over to you to whisper in your ear, “What do guns have to do with -”

You interrupt him to quietly explain, “You shoot photos on a camera.”

“Ah. Thank you.” Addressing Scott, he smiles and claps, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “If I am still around, I should rather enjoy that!”

“Fuck, I forgot we’ve only got you on borrowed time,” Anna complains, before gasping and clapping her hands, addressing you. “This is your weekend off, right?!” You nod, and she squeals, holding her face in her hands. “So, we have to show Ralph what a good night out is, right?!”

Excited reactions from the entire group, except one, obviously, but the others seem too keen on planning tonight now to respond to any of his reactions. “So, do we just take him out, or out-out?” Connor asks.

You look over at Ralph’s face, trying not to laugh too loudly at him looking as though he’s been asked to solve quantum equations in his head. “You trying to figure out the difference there, mate?” you ask, and he nods. “Right, so going out usually means just to the local pub, pretty casual attire, you say you’re only going for a couple of beers but then it’s approaching midnight, the poor sod behind the bar is calling last orders and you’re five deep, trying to gather everyone for the walk home where you drop them all off one by one. Going out-out is dressing up, it’s going into the city itself, it’s going to bars and nightclubs and getting super overpriced cocktails until it’s 3am and you’re sat outside a McDonald’s waiting for a taxi home with whichever stragglers you’ve managed to hold onto by the end of the night.”

“Dressing up, you say?!” Ralph lights up at the idea, but you put a hand on his arm.

“Not in the suit and tie way, I’m afraid.” You frown, “I don’t actually know if we’ve got any out-out clothes for you at home, you know. I haven’t had a chance to get you to any shops where you can try nice clothes on yourself.”

With a collective gasp, Grace and Anna each loop an arm around each of Ralph’s, with Scott joining in their chorus of, “Shopping trip?!”

You groan, “Can I at least go back and get changed if you’re gonna keep making me leave the house?”

“I mean, you don’t have to come with us, if you want a break,” Anna suggests. “You trust us with Ralph, right?”

“So what, just the four of you will be going, then?” Connor asks, to the others’ groans. “Oh, come off it, what use would I be?!”

“Connor,” Anna starts. “How often are we ever likely to ask you for your opinion as a straight man again? You need to come with, for your people.”

Connor sighs in resignation, though he can’t fight his own smile. “Alright, fine, but you lot are buying all the coffees I’m gonna need to get through this.”

You slip Ralph your bank card, mutter to him that the others will teach him how to use it, and salute the others as they all make their way to the high street before turning on your heel and heading back to the sanctuary of an empty flat.

Straight away, it feels too empty. Too quiet. Sure, you’ve trusted Ralph to just pop across the road and back, but you’ve got way more alone time now. You ask your Echo to play your favourite playlist as you make a start on the chores you normally can’t do with Ralph around.

Though you expect that to take up until they return, you’re done before the hour is up. You let out a long exhale, tutting through it as you look around your little living space and wonder what on earth to do with yourself. You start watching the next episode of the show you’d been watching, but even that didn’t feel right without the constant interjections, feeling as though you have to explain who characters are, what plots have already happened and why certain scenes are especially important.

You text the group chat a few times, but only Connor ever responds, and as is on brand for him, it’s always a sarcastic comment about how Ralph is obviously going to show up in the most garish outfits known to man. You take comfort in Connor being the one to make those jokes, at least, as if anyone else were to, you might be more inclined to worry that Ralph’s own tastes might just be a little too eclectic for the South London nightlife. At least Connor will be there to talk him down into dressing somewhat appropriately.

You also ask Scott to send you the photos for Ralph’s Instagram profile, telling him you’re happy to edit them to pass the time before eventually getting them onto Ralph’s phone to upload them. He sends you the screenshots, along with the video itself. One little watch, you tell yourself. Then to editing.

An indeterminable amount of time later, you’re replaying a part where you’re constantly correcting Ralph on the actual plot of Gilmore Girls versus what he seems to have retained that it’s about, where you’ve reached the point of uncontrollable laughter and he’s laughing at your laughter. His smile is so pure when he’s genuinely happy, and yet it’s so rare to see it that way. Even without his manufactured pose, when he’s smiling amongst you and your friends it still feels stilted. You often wonder whether he misses the familiarity of home, whether you’re doing a good enough job at helping Ralph to fit in. But seeing that look on his face, it fills you with an overwhelming sense of relief. It’s the first time you’ve been able to really notice him looking comfortable. You take a screenshot of that moment, but not necessarily to add to Ralph’s profile. Maybe this one stays as a memento of Ralph’s time here, just for you.

When you get the text in the group chat letting you know that a) they’re finished, and b) everyone’s getting ready at Grace’s since her housemates are all out for the evening, you hurriedly edit those two photos Scott sent, empty your wardrobe of all your “out-out” clothes into a duffel bag, throw in whatever toiletries and cosmetics you can find and make your way over there.

Scott, Anna and Ralph are nowhere to be found, at first, but Grace assures you that they’re simply helping him “look the part”. You’re more worried about checking in with Ralph, seeing if he’s overwhelmed at all, and most importantly, making sure he hasn’t blown his cover.

Grace is more than happy to help you pick out your outfit for the night, while Connor’s input remains a constant and totally helpful series of grunts without even looking up from his phone. Grace helps you get your face and hair ready, too, though not without scolding Connor for not participating either way, despite his constant rebuttals that he is taking care of “the most important thing”. You quickly shoot him a text thanking him for helping to take Ralph off your hands for an afternoon, and reassuring him you’ll buy him a drink to show your appreciation. The absolute wordsmith that he is, Connor sends a thumbs-up emoji in response.

There’s a ring at the doorbell, which even Grace is puzzled at. That fills you with a sense of concern, too - if Grace isn’t expecting someone at her door, who could it be? Connor seems pretty confident at going to open it, though, and you see why when he eventually shows up with the pizzas that he clearly ordered. “You didn’t have to be so cryptic about it!” You shake your head at him as you make sure everyone has drinks made up as well.

Scott’s head pokes out of a door to ask, “Everything okay? Who was at the door?” You and Connor both point to the food and Scott grins, “Ah, nice! Right on time! Okay, folks, are you ready to meet The New Ralph?”

The three of you clap and cheer as Scott and Anna make a big show of revealing Ralph, and thankfully you weren’t holding any of the glasses you were making drinks in, or you’d have surely dropped them. Wearing a dark fitted polo, very well-fitting jeans and some crisp new Adidas trainers, Ralph stands between your friends, looking around at the three of you. When he catches your eye, he only makes very fleeting eye contact before looking your own outfit up and down and then hastily looking back at the others. He rubs at the tops of his ears - you can’t quite see from this distance, but you wonder if he’s blushing, and whether he’s doing it over everyone’s reaction, or just yours.

You set everyone’s drinks up around the living room, deliberately seating you and Ralph together. “I wasn’t sure what kind of fancy-schmancy drinks you’re used to, and none of us exactly have champagne on tap, but I thought you might like a martini?” You say to him as he takes his seat on the sofa next to you.

Ralph’s eyes light up. “I do rather enjoy a martini!”

“That’s my guy!” Connor cheers from his corner, raising a slice of pizza in a toast of sorts. Ralph tentatively takes a slice and does the same, but you hurriedly follow it up by grabbing a plate and holding it beneath Ralph’s slice for him.

“Don’t want to ruin your nice outfit before you’ve even been seen out in it, do you?” You fuss, and Ralph nods, taking the plate from you and holding it directly under his chin as he eats, which makes you laugh. He could literally look like anyone in the world, but little mannerisms like that will always tell you that that’s your Ralph.

When he’s had enough to eat, you take the plate from him to take it out to the kitchen, though Grace is quick to whip it out of your hands, too. That’s when you notice the plate seems to have moved something underneath the collar of Ralph’s shirt. You move it aside slightly and, with all the might of keeping any kind of flustering behaviour at bay, you ask, “Is that a neck chain you’re wearing?” Is this what manifesting is?

“Yes! Do you like it?” Ralph scoops it out into view with his finger. “Just a plain one, but Anna said it really brought the whole outfit together, didn’t you?” He asks her excitedly, and she nods back.

“She’s got a good eye, that one,” you grin. “You look so good, Ralph.”

“As do you,” he mutters, gesturing quickly to your outfit. “I see what you mean about dressing to the nines, now. It’s nice to see this side of you, too. All of you, really,” he stammers, looking around.

“Right, last minute hair and make-up touches and then I want photos of all of us!” Grace announces.

Ralph’s face falls as he asks you quietly, “Would you like to teach me how to take them, since I’m not good at being in them?”

“Don’t be silly,” you nudge him. “We’ll get some good ones of you tonight, trust me. And if you wanna see a bad photo, wait until you see the atrocities this lot take by the end of the night.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We’ll prepare a slideshow of your finest moments for him, shall we?” Scott retorts, to both yours and Ralph’s laughter.

“Maybe we should save that for a special occasion. A birthday, perhaps?” Ralph asks with amusement.

“Yes, Ralph!” Connor and Scott cheer in unison, both slapping his shoulders excitedly as you gasp in mock offence.

“The betrayal!” You can’t actually be mad at Ralph, though, not with how good he looks when he’s this happy. It’s even more captivating in person.

You shake your head as you go to make sure you’re all freshened up after your meal. You can’t keep thinking these things when you’re sober, or else who knows how that’ll manifest when you’re less so.

Your friends all love learning how to get Ralph distracted enough that he doesn’t even realise half the time that his photo is being taken. Scott, being the photography setup genius that he is, even gets his phone out, sets it on a timer, and manages to get Ralph laughing while looking at the camera, in the middle of the group, all while successfully running into the shot himself. Everyone’s in love with that photo, even Ralph, and when Scott sends it in the group chat, you promise him you’ll print one for the flat, and an extra one just for his room. 

“What about the other ones that everyone else took?” Ralph asks. “Could I get those ones on my phone, too?”

“I’ll do that tomorrow. Ooh, speaking of! Before we go! Gimme, gimme,” you make a grabby hand at Ralph, who eventually takes the hint that you want his phone as he hands it to you. You send over the two edited shots - and that’s all - and, on his phone, successfully upload them:

“No caption?” Anna asks, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, it’d look a bit dodge if he’s tweeting to ask his phone to stop changing his words for him, but then he’s a total whiz at Instagram, wouldn’t it?” You explain, to everyone’s agreement.

Finally, you’re all piled into an Uber and on your way to your favourite bar. It’s in the car, cramped between you and the door, that Ralph realises something in a panic. Frantically tapping your arm, he whispers, “Won’t they ask me to prove I’m of age to drink there?”

You shake your head. “Don’t sweat it. The staff know us like the backs of their hands, they’ll trust us that we’re not bringing in some teenager. Besides, you look far less baby-faced now,” you wrestle your arm out enough to ruffle the beard he’s starting to grow with your fingertips. “So we’ll be fine. Promise.”

Ralph, too, wrangles a hand out to hold his little finger towards you. “Promise?”

With a small laugh, you link your own with his. “Yes, but less of that around the people we have to convince that you’re not a kid, okay?” Ralph nods with a very serious expression, and you copy him before settling back into conversation with your friends.

It takes a few bats of the group’s eyelids and some convincing c’mon, mates but the bouncer soon lets Ralph in with you all, to which he enthusiastically thanks them over and over again. You hurriedly rush him in ahead of you before he arouses too much suspicion.

Connor makes a point of letting Ralph know where the toilets are, and Ralph immediately disappears off into that direction. You ask the boys if one of them should make sure he’s okay getting there, but everyone scolds you for fussing over him too much and moves you along with the rest of them to order everyone’s drinks. You want to hold onto Ralph’s for him but, as Scott reminds you, it’s safer for him to, so that you can look after your own. Just in case.

Soon enough, as with every night out, the group starts to scatter. Scott is happily chatting between Connor and a girl you don’t recognise, most likely playing wingman. You can spot Anna and Grace in amidst a small group of people whose heads are turned away from you. Still no sign of Ralph for a while. Ringing his phone does nothing, but the music is quite loud, he might not be able to hear. The bar is small enough, you tell yourself. He’ll find you eventually.

As you’re craning your head around the bar one more time, you don’t realise anyone is in your immediate vicinity until you almost trip over someone behind you. They catch you with a, “Whoa, easy there! How many have you had?!”

“Barely any, that’s the scary thing!” You laugh.

The man smiles at you. “Sounds like I ought to buy you one then, eh?”

You shrug, “Sure, what’s a free drink?” You gesture that you’ll walk up to the bar with him and order your drink. He tries to make small conversation, and you start to get into it a little, until he starts trying to flirt. He’s not exactly your type, anyway, and his total lack of game really doesn’t help matters. You try and get away with a simple thank you, a promise that you’ll find him later to buy him one back but you really must get back to your friends.

“Ah, what’s the rush? Surely it’s easier for them to come and find you if we stay here, right?” He asks. You look around desperately, trying with all your might to use some of that manifesting power you seemed to have earlier to will one of the boys back, both to rescue you and salvage Ralph.

~~~

Ralph was having quite the experience. Having heard the other boys talk of the bathroom, he assumed that was a prompt for everyone to go, but only once he could see the door to it did Ralph turn around and realise he was completely on his own. Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. What seemed dimly lit now appears almost pitch black. There are lights of all colours shining everywhere. Music that doesn’t quite sound like music thumps in the background. Twenty conversations happening around him turn into white noise, until someone approaches him. A total stranger. Two of them, actually.

 “Alright, mate? Do me a favour?” One asks, despite Ralph’s expression clearly being one that should let anyone know that he is in no position to be giving out any favours. They continue anyway, “Look, I have to draw something, and you have to guess what it is, okay?” Ralph, still bewildered, does not respond in the slightest, but before he knows it, the other person has turned around so that their back can be used as a surface. The original asker now splays a napkin of sorts against their friend’s back as they try and draw something.

Ralph tries his absolute hardest, but as no amount of squinting and focusing can help him, he tells them, “Oh bother, I’m terribly sorry, chaps, I’m honestly trying but I’m really coming up trumps, I do apologise.”

They give him looks of confusion and concern. “Are you on something?”

“Why does everybody assume that of me, just because I’m ever so slightly more well spoken than the average resident here?!” Ralph complains with a frown. “Can this not just be how I talk?”

“Oh my days, you’re a right laugh,” the other grins. “Here, come and do a shot with us, you have to!”

“I- Do I?” Ralph asks, and they nod. “Well, I really should get back to my friends -”

“Oh, c’mon, one shot and we’ll help you find them. Deal?” They ask.

“Well… Alright,” Ralph sighs in defeat. If he can’t find you, he can at least find a constant to anchor onto in the meantime.

“Oi, lads!” The two call out as they approach the table they’re leading Ralph to. “Time out on that game for a minute, we’re doing shots with this legend!” They both look at Ralph expectantly, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Oh! Yes! Hello, everyone. My name is Ralph. Fabulous to meet you all,” he smiles as he looks around the table.

“Isn’t he sick?!” The artist of the pair grins at his friends.

“Quite the picture of health, actually,” Ralph retorts with a side glance.

“Oh, isn’t he a cutie,” a girl coos from the table. The other of the pair starts to clench his jaw.

“Oi, come off it,” another comforts from around the table. “Any bloke that uses the word fabulous isn’t exactly stealing your girlfriend, is he.”

Ralph’s not even sure how to answer to that, but he isn’t given much time to, either, before being whisked away to the bar with this new group. They hand him a tiny glass filled with clear liquid. Ralph wonders if a shot is perhaps some sort of palate cleanser, a mouthful of water between drinks.

The fiery sensation that travels down his throat as he drinks teaches him that it certainly is not. But once the unpleasantness clears, the strange comfort of alcohol starts to fill Ralph with warmth. It’s certainly happening a lot faster than he’s used to, but then these drinks are far stronger than Ralph’s usual tastes.

Briefly forgetting his own arrangement, he returns from the bar with his new acquaintances - and another martini in hand - and sits back at the table with them as they continue playing their game. It’s played on one of their phones. Someone taps through prompts and reads them aloud. Sometimes it’s challenging a player to do something themselves, sometimes it’s challenging them to approach a stranger, as they had done with Ralph. Sometimes it’s asking them completely arbitrary questions to vote upon amongst the group. They all certainly seem to be having a great time playing, anyway.

Once they declare a round over, they ask Ralph if he wants to join in the next one. “Oh, I’m rather… Old-fashioned, I don’t think I’d be a good fit for this, but I’m sure my friends would love it! Shall I go and find them?”

“More the merrier,” one shrugs.

Ralph excitedly jumps up and starts patrolling the bar to find a familiar face amongst the crowd. He’s yet to see any at all, until one makes his heart drop. He sees you, in the arms of another man. Ralph had really been priding himself on repressing his feelings around you. He wasn’t going to repeat what happened with Lauren. He wasn’t going to scare you off too soon. He was going to keep it to himself. He had tried so hard. And yet, this sight is truly unbearable.

Biting at his quivering lower lip, he storms back into the direction of the bathrooms and keeps going, shoving the first door he finds open as he tries not to cry.

His sorrow is quickly replaced with horror as he finds several women all standing in various places around the room. Some just standing and chatting, some calling to friends in the stalls, some checking themselves in the mirror. After the scene finally sets in for Ralph, he lets out an ultimately high-pitched shriek, swivels around and immediately starts scolding himself. “Oh, bother and blast! Please, forgive me, girls, oh, what an absolute cad I am, I’ve truly disgraced myself, just when it couldn’t get any worse!” His voice gets shakier with every word, and he flinches when a hand appears on his shoulder.

“Sorry!” One of the girls apologises hurriedly. “I just wanted to let you know it’s okay. Are you alright?”

“Please do not ask me if I have taken any sort of drug just because I am well-spoken!” Ralph half-cries, and the hand squeezes him comfortingly.

“We won’t, promise. Did you need a wee, or just a wind down?”

“I’m not sure, I just… Ran. I’m terribly sorry,” Ralph sighs.

“It’s fine,” the voice reassures. “Wanna turn around and talk to us? I promise, there’s no better therapy than a night in the girls’ loos. Right?” A chorus of agreement fills the room.

Ralph slowly turns around to see an awful lot of smiling faces. He sniffs harshly and nods, “Good evening.”

“Hi!” The one who had approached him smiles. “I’m Lauren!” 

Of all the names! “L-Lauren?” Ralph practically squeaks out as he feels himself start to well up, and her own face falls in some kind of realisation as she shakes her head. 

“Or Loz! Just call me Loz! All my friends do! Forget the other name entirely. Sound good?”

Ralph nods. “I’m Ralph. A pleasure to meet you, despite it being under my most horrific actions.”

The other girls introduce themselves, as well. “So, Ralph, this, uh… Girl With The Forbidden Name, is she why you’re all upset?”

“Is she?” One pipes up from the very back. “Because you point her out and I’ll sort her out, no holds barred.”

“See, this is what I tell you, you get like two vodka red bulls down you and you’re ready to throw hands at any inconvenience,” her friend groans next to her. Ralph very quickly taps the square with the bird on it and types a message out to ask the internet “why do people throw hands at each other”, quickly followed by “what sort of hands do people throw”. He decides he’ll check people’s answers later, so as not to appear rude.

“Look at him, though!” The more hot-headed one gestures to Ralph as he wipes away the tears that had been threatening to fall. “Look at those eyes! Like melted chocolate, they are. What kinda sadist would possibly make that happen?!”

“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s all futile,” Ralph shakes his head, but his new friend Loz points at him.

“Oi. Nothing’s futile here. This is a safe space. Let it out.”

Ralph starts to explain that he had fallen for a Lauren, dove in headfirst, had his heart broken and vowed not to let it happen again, but that seeing the housemate he cared so deeply for in the arms of another just brought all of that sadness back up again. The girls are all very sympathetic, and very good at knowing exactly what to say to make Ralph feel better. The rather boisterous one keeps trying to speak negatively of you, but Ralph won’t have any of that. You’re your own person, and it’s up to Ralph to get over his own feelings. The girls commend him on his emotional maturity. Apparently not a lot of men have that.

They ask if he wants to talk it through with you, but he shakes his head, telling them that he isn’t certain how long it is before he can go home again, and so he doesn’t want to commit to anything or risk either staying with you with such an emotionally charged elephant in the room at all times, or being turfed out indefinitely.

"That's quite the predicament you've got yourself in, Ralphie, babes," Loz hugs him arm, and he allows himself the comfort of leaning against her.

Suddenly, a stall door swings open violently, and a whole new girl appears, holding her phone up to her face. Before anyone else can ask if she's okay, she gasps loudly, "I bloody knew it!"

Everyone looks at her quizzically, including Ralph, and she continues. "Well, I thought, guy called Ralph who sounds really old-fashioned, I wonder if… And then some of the things he's said kind of sounded like those tweets, have any of you seen that Ralph On Twitter guy?"

A few more gasps of realisation dot about the room. Ralph's ears turn pink as he recognises the word Twitter from the conversation you’d had with the other four this morning. Loz frowns, "Are you sure it's -"

"Is this your insta?" She turns her phone around to show Ralph her screen. It says Instagram on the top, so Ralph takes out his phone and presses the square that also says that, showing it around to see if that's right. Excitedly, all the girls crowd around to make sure they get Ralph's handle right so they can follow him.

One girl - Ralph's already lost track of them, honestly - announces, "So what I'm hearing is, girls' room photoshoot with Ralph from Twitter?!"

Ralph laughs nervously, "Oh goodness, I'm flattered, but those are all taken candidly, would you believe! I am certainly no poser, I have been told this enough times today already."

"Bollocks to that!" The loud one shouts. "We'll teach you how, won't we, girls?"

Before Ralph knows it, he's squatting amongst all his new friends who are trying to teach him how to do the smoulder look he was doing in his photo on purpose when the main door opens to reveal you standing there, looking absolutely bewildered. "Oh my god, Ralph! You're okay! Thank fuck for that!"

As you frantically update the group chat that you’ve found Ralph safe and well, Loz reaches for his hand to squeeze it. The loud girl starts to tense up behind him but Loz waves her down from behind his back. “Yeah, he’s just been having some drunk girl therapy,” she explains calmly.

“God, I could do with some of that right now,” you groan. “Honestly, you trip and fall onto a guy one time and he thinks you’re soulmates, it’s horrendous!”

Ralph’s face lights up all of a sudden. “You’d… You’d fallen on him?” Concern falls back onto his expression. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, physically, I’m fine, but I don’t know how I’m going to mentally recover from listening to one man talk about himself so much,” you groan into your hands as you hold your face. “I forgot why I stopped dating in London.” You notice that one of the girls puts her arm down after having held her phone up at a particular angle. “Oh my god, wait, you guys were taking photos together?” A few of them nod. “Would you like me to take them for you? Rather than one of you trying to fit everyone in at arm’s length.”

“Oh my god, would you?” one of them sighs with relief.

You nod, gesturing to Ralph to hand you his phone again.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the presence of so many other people in the photo with him, but Ralph blends in so much more naturally in the photos you take now, even when you suggest different poses and expressions. One of them - Ralph quickly introduces her as Loz, and no other name - asks around for phone numbers of the girls that, you assume, had all just met and bonded over whatever Ralph was in here for. You take over the role of adding everyone’s numbers into Ralph’s phone, and see that Loz adds him to a group chat that she names “Ralphie’s Angels”. You laugh at the name, and send all the photos you’ve taken into the group chat.

“Right, I can feel myself sobering up now, and we can’t have that,” one of them calls out, making the rest of you laugh. “Shall we all go and face the music?”

You pull a face, “Ugh, that means I have to go back and face… Him.”

“Nah, you stick with us, hun,” the one who seemed hostile with you at first suddenly seems to be fighting your corner now. “He even looks in your direction when I’m around, I’ll make him wish he didn’t.” You give her a comforted smile in response and the whole horde starts making its way out of the bathroom.

Your friends also catch up with you at the bar, grateful to see Ralph’s face again, too. Grace is hanging off some new guy’s arm, Anna is half-present in the whole conversation but also half-texting somebody, and Scott is catching up with Ralph. You spot that Connor isn’t talking to anyone and head over to him, “What are you drinking?” you ask loudly over all the music. “I still owe you, remember!”

Connor shakes his head, “Nah, don’t sweat it. Ralph’s a good’un, it was no bother.” Speak of the devil, Ralph excitedly hands you and Connor drinks that one of his new friends insists on buying for everyone, then grabs his own glass from Scott who’s followed him to clink against yours and Connor’s before hurriedly rejoining his group. You and your friends laugh in unison before Connor downs his martini, gives you a quick hug and heads home for the night. Grace and her new friend are the next to leave - you never did catch his name, and you’re not sure you’ll have a reason to remember it anyway.

You dismiss Anna and Scott, telling them that Ralph will probably be a while yet, and that they don’t have to wait up for him just because you do. At first they insist on staying with you, but eventually tiredness consumes them both and they bid you goodnight.

As though preying from afar - because that’s most likely what he was doing - your admirer from earlier appears as soon as your friends are out of the door. “Well, well, we meet again.”

Your eyes narrow as you groan out a breath. “Yeah, hi -”

“I can’t believe your friends would leave you alone like that,” he shakes his head.

“Oh, they haven’t, I’m still waiting on -” Your knight in 21st century armour, Ralph, walks over to the pair of you. “Ah, there he is! Are we going home now?”

“Would you like to?” Ralph asks, concern in his eyes, and you nod with fervour. “Then yes!”

The other man pulls a face. “Wait, sorry, you’re going home with - who the fuck is this?!” He gestures at Ralph, a nasty expression on his face.

Thankfully, Ralph’s cavalry come to your defence, led by none other than an incredibly loud, “Oi, dickhead! Who the fuck are you?! Fucking look at my friend like that again, see what happens, yeah?” Despite being perhaps half a foot shorter, Ralph’s most fiery friend easily squares up against him.

You tap her shoulder in thanks, take Ralph’s hand and guide him out of the bar. The cool air outside hits your face, but the alcohol in your system acts as a blanket around the rest of you. “You good?” You ask Ralph, and he nods. “Good. I’ll call for an Uber.”

Ralph frowns, “But aren’t those taxis, parked up over there?”

“Well remembered! Yeah, but a drunk girl once told me that those charge extra for all the time they’ve spent sitting there, and I’ve never felt bougie enough to spend the money to find out if it is true, so I like to play it safe.” You book an Uber that says it’s four minutes away and sit on the edge of the path. Ralph joins you. “Sorry we lost you, earlier, by the way. I did keep trying to look for you.”

“Pah! My own fault, really. I got all frazzled, you know,” Ralph’s eyes widen as he gestures wildly, making you laugh. “I still feel a tad so now!”

“It helps to kind of start resting your head for a bit. Here,” you pat your shoulder and Ralph takes the hint, tucking himself inwards to rest his head on your shoulder. Yours head falls onto his instinctively, and you set your phone to the front camera. You see Ralph’s small, contented smile, quickly plaster one of your own on and snap a photo.

Ralph then frowns, “Oh, no! I wasn’t prepared!”

“Exactly. Look,” you say fondly as you show him the photo. Both of you looking happy and comfortable, despite some bumps in the road. A perfectly normal first night out for Ralph.

“Can you put that one on my phone too, please?” he asks sleepily.

Reluctantly, you push his head away from you. “Yes, but c’mon, sleepyhead. We still have to get home.”

Ralph doesn’t make it the whole journey home, his head once again flopping against yours in the back seat of the taxi as he sleeps. You manage to prod him awake once you’re back outside your block of flats, though, and he trudges along behind you into the lift and along the hallway until you’re back in the safety of the flat again. “Gimme a minute to grab some PJs for the night, yeah?” 

“Of course. I think I should use the bathroom properly now,” he nods.

You pull a face, “Yeah, the fact you’ve gone the whole night without it is honestly impressive!” You hear Ralph chuckle under his breath as you go back into your room, blindly head to your pyjama drawer, take out the first top and bottoms that you can feel, regardless of whether or not they match, and head back into the front room, opting to duck beneath the kitchen counter to change.

Ralph re-emerges a few minutes later, his voice drawling wearily as he asks, “Would you like the bed for tonight? I can’t imagine the morning should be pleasant for either of us.”

You walk over to him and put your hand on his shoulder as you chuckle, “It’ll be fine. You probably need it more than I do, that was probably heavier than what you’re used to.”

“I had a shot tonight, you know,” Ralph tells you with intrigue.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, yeah? And how did that go for you?”

“Absolutely awful,” he replies simply, pulling a face of disgust, and you both laugh.

“Yeah, you’ll definitely need the bed, then,” you nod. “Did you have a good time, though?”

“Oh, most certainly!” he grins. “I’ve made so many new friends! And I really rather think I’ve made a good impression on your friends, as well.”

“You know they’re your friends too, right?” you ask, cocking your head. Ralph tries to wave you off, and you pull a face of disbelief. “Come off it, they love you! I bet you had a great time with them earlier, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely! Um, but… I did… Um… It wasn’t quite the same without your presence there,” he mumbles.

You frown, “Did you say anything about your past?”

“Oh, no, that never came up! Just… Oh, ignore me, I’m dreadfully tired,” Ralph rubs his face wearily.

“Yeah, you’ll be thanking me for the greasy-ass breakfast I’ll be making us in the morning, so get ready for that,” you grin at him before pulling him in for a goodnight hug. He may smell like a fragrance store with all the proximity he’s had to several perfumed people, but there’s still something comforting about being able to bury your face into his shoulder and taking a deep breath in. Ralph’s arms tighten around you as you do so, as he allows himself the luxury of squeezing his eyes shut and just enjoying the moment.

You eventually pull away with a yawn, “Alright, I think we’re both about to fall asleep standing up, so… Night, Ralph.”

“Y-yes. Of course. Goodnight. Pleasant dreams,” Ralph smiles awkwardly at you before walking quickly to the bedroom.

You set yourself up on the sofa and start looking through the day’s photos. Ralph’s little instagram photoshoot doesn’t feel like it was only this morning, and you can’t help but let yourself fall into the trap of looking at the photo of him laughing again. Shaking your head again, as though that’ll do anything at this point, you scroll through to the photo of all six of you in Grace’s house and set it as your lock screen. You keep scrolling through hurriedly to your other favourite photo of the night, and, while it may be a little delusional, you set the photo of the two of you at the end of the night as your home screen. You’re used to being into people who you can’t have, be it from their disinterest or other reasons, so what’s the harm in indulging yourself a little by imagining a world where the two of you could always be like that?

That’s what Ralph tells himself too as he stares at the photo on his own phone screen until the need for sleep finally takes over.

next chapter

[maniac-charmer]

PANDORA ~ Chapter 1: Anti-Romantic

This story (and this blog) is strictly +18 minors do not interact.

-Kim Seungmin x female reader

-Academic rivals au. University setting.

-TW: Mentions of smoking, hint of depression (not directly but implied), making out (more to come in other chapters)

-word count; 2.4k

-note: hey everyone, its been years since I wrote a ff and first time in the skz fandom so welcome. The concept may be overdone but still is amazing. Thank you for your support in advance.

Series masterlist

General masterlist

``As you took your eyes away from your screen, you saw two chocolate brown eyes looking at you and there he was. Kim Seungmin.

Sometimes his warm eyes and pretty smile infuriated you. Why is he too hard to hate sometimes. `` 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was one of those nights again, you in front of your laptop and studying like there was no tomorrow. 

Well, there might as well not be a tomorrow, you were dreading your lecture tomorrow. Having to face your classmates in a heated debate that was 50% of your grade and unfortunately, the opposing team also had your rival. Kim Seungmin.

You both were now in last year of your university life, but this rivalry started in both of your second year. You made the Dean`s list for your academic achievements and thought you were the only second year to do so but you were so wrong. 

The second you saw the name Kim Seungmin in the invite list to the annual Dean`s dinner, you knew you were in for a treat. You did not know him but knew of him. His sassy comments in the lectures and his smirk when he corrects someone`s mistakes. 

You admit that he never did those things to you directly, but pushed your buttons enough to earn himself an eyeroll or a scoff.

It is safe to say that you cannot stand him. 

You were maybe overreaching, but you had to. Your parents always were supportive, but they always criticized you a lot for your grades and being in a family with overachievers were not helping. Your family always saying that you could do better was not making the situation better. You wanted to graduate as a valedictorian and make them eat their words and continue with your Masters in the best University you can. And the only person standing between your goals was Kim Seungmin.

You know that you are too ambitious and may be taking it too far, but do not care about that. 

You look at the clock and see that its almost 3 am, having to be in the university at 10 am for the debate you curse yourself and make your way to your bed, which oddly looks so much more comfortable now, and you drift to sleep in few seconds. 

Seungmin also did not sleep that night, he was spending his time practicing his arguments in front of the mirror. He knew this petty rivalry between him, and you were serious for you, but he enjoyed the challenge. He thrived from it, and it pushed him to study harder and be better.

Seungmin did not like to be a villain in your story, but he liked you getting flustered and getting red when he made snarky comments and how you rolled your eyes. He knew that he is a smart man and a hardworking one, he always has been. He always puts his heart and soul into everything he did. Being in this major was not his first choice, he did not want to be an academic, but his family did not give him much chance to choose. The people in his family being the best in their respective fields. His grandfather being a well-known judge, his father as a surgeon and being the best in his field, winning countless awards did not make things easier. It only made the pressure to be successful more real.

After he got distracted, he closed his eyes, dreaming of himself on a stage where the light is only on him. Burning his skin and eyes, a soft melody tingling in his ears and throat. 

He just wanted to sing, he didn`t want a boring job in a university where he would teach 18-year-old barely adults or write article after article, trying to up-do himself. He did not want to spend his life looking at his laptop and writing stuff that no one would ever read willingly.

He wanted to live on a stage. He wanted to be the stage, dominate it. Hold people in the palm of his hand and make them feel something, write lyrics or play the piano whole day and live in the realm of those notes. 

But he cannot do that. His family saying that music is just a hobby and will not pay the bills broke something in him. His dad even saying ``no one in our family is talented in music`` to one of his friends broke his little left confidence. He is now stuck in front of his mirror, wishing and dreaming what would have happened if he just left. He left and disappeared, leaving everything behind and just starting off somewhere new and fresh. 

But you gave him a reason to stay. He knows it’s not the same, but he needed that fire in his belly to work harder. And you gave him that. 

After he felt tears dripping from his chin to his chest, he took a deep breath and wipe them away. Taking a deep breath, he looked at himself. He did not have the courage to sing a single chorus since he heard his dad`s comment. He knew it wasn’t ill intended. But he obviously was invisible to him. He wanted to make people listen to him. The second he graduates; he plans to move away. At least he will have a safety net which is his diploma and his success in his academic life. 

He made his way to his bed and under the covers he promises himself, one year, after a year if I do not reach my goals, I will return to my boring academic life. 

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on tomorrow. He remembered your smile when you talked and your passion filling your eyes and your words. You were made for this but not him. He thought, maybe one day you won’t hate him and maybe hear him out. 

He drifted to his dreamland, where he sang on a stage and you being there watching him with your amazing smile. 

You woke up with your annoying alarms sound and swiftly got ready. You were going for something a little more formal for the debate. You wore your emerald green shirt and jeans and got your stuff and made your way to the university building. It was incredibly crowded as usual but since you spent few years here, you came an hour earlier then the start time. You made your way to the coffee stand in the building and got yourself the biggest latte you can get, and you decide to look at your notes once again. While looking at your laptop, you felt someone’s gaze. As you took your eyes away from your screen, you saw two chocolate brown eyes looking at you and there he was. Kim Seungmin.

Sometimes his warm eyes and pretty smile infuriated you. Why is he too hard to hate sometimes. 

This day, his beige cardigan made him look too soft and undeniably handsome. You groan to yourself as you see him smirking and giving a small wave at you and decide to be cordial and gave him a head nod instead of a wave.

It is almost impossible to look away from Kim Seungmin. Especially when he bites his lips as he takes notes and starts talking with those plumb pink lips, but you cannot get yourself distracted. You basically ripped all his arguments apart and he was still smirking while you talked like you said something funny. 

Seungmin was not supposed to have this much fun in a graded debate, but he was. He felt your eyes looking at him when he was not, and he did the same. Your passion was infatuating and whenever he has the chance to watch you, he took it. You looking that good in emerald green should be considered a crime. He thought about ripping that shirt off of you, kissing and touching your body. Marking you as his and fucking the stress out of you. Making you beg for him, making you his.

All he wanted was for you to let him in your world. He wanted to be consumed by you, your voice, your ideas, your world. He wanted to be yours. He has no explanation for it, but he just wanted you. 

Every single piece of you. 

All to himself.

After the debate, you were feeling like your energy was drained and you decided to reward yourself with a well-deserved desert and coffee from your favorite independent coffee house. As you made collect your things in the lecture room, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder and turn around as you take out your earbuds out. 

You see Seungmin and feeling confused and a little surprised you raised your eyebrows. ``Yeah? `` you ask questioningly. 

He raises his eyebrows and with a smile that look genuine he starts talking ``That was a great debate, you did good. ``

``Just good? I crushed you`` you say laughing. 

``Maybe the others but not me, in my defense, I would have preferred you as my teammate, not those idiots. ``

He weirdly looked genuine, and this makes you even more confused, he wanted to be in a team with you. You two cannot spend five minutes before you start bickering. 

``You are the only person in this department that comes close to my intelligence, don`t be surprised Y/N`` 

And there it was… His stupid and attractive smirk. 

You roll your eyes and take your bag, putting back your earbuds and walking out of class. Everyone except you two already was out of the classroom. 

You almost made it outside as well, but you feel a hand on your arm holding you and turning you around. With the force you turn around and see Seungmin. He had a different look in his eyes. 

``Are you leaving just like that? `` he said in an angry tone, he almost whispered. 

``Just like what Seungmin? We are not friends and I don`t owe you anything. Am I supposed to say thank you for calling me stupid? `` you almost yelled, frowning. 

``Stupid? `` he almost shouted but not because he was angry, he was shocked. His eyes got wide, and almost sad. He shook his head from side to side ``No, I would never call you that. You are the smartest person I ever met. `` He cleared his throat and he realized that he is still holding your arm. It felt natural to touch you, but he dropped his hand. ``I`m sorry if I made you feel like that Y/N…`` 

He was going to continue but you didn`t know what else was coming and you hated the unknown so before he started you raised your hand stopping him. ``See you around Seungmin. `` You turn around start walking faster as you make your way to the elevator. You just noticed that your breathing was faster than usual.  

His manly smell still lingering in your nostrils and his touch almost burning you. Maybe you were being too mean, but if you were not mean to him, you know he was going break your heart. Just like everyone else did.

His pink lips, being that close to you. 

His perfect face.

His amazing smell.

His voice…His damn voice that made you felt like you were sitting on the clouds and an angel was talking to you.

In that moment, you felt a touch of guilt. He was so close to you; you should have been nicer to him.

You shook your head trying to erase the memory of his handsome face being inches away from yours. 

Seungmin stand there for a few minutes more, not knowing what to feel. Did he really made you feel like you were less then him? 

He wanted to make you his Queen, his world and his everything. Was that how you see him?

He didn`t know what to do.

He made his way out of the room; started to run towards the elevator. He stuck his hand between the doors and saw your shocked face. You stutter ``S-Seungmin! What the hell…`` 

That was it. He had to do it now. You were there alone in the elevator. He stepped inside and without giving you a chance to speak he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you close to himself and kissed you. 

It almost felt like a dream. With his soft lips you would have expected a soft and cute kiss, but it was hungry. Raw. Almost like he was telling you something. You felt your bag drop from your shoulder to the ground. You didn`t care. You placed your hands on his neck and kissed him back.

With every feeling you had. Pulling him into the deep end with you.

You gently pulled some of his hair from his neck and that is when you heard his moan. It instantly made you clutch your thighs together. Your body basically was in a war with your mind right now. Your body burned with desire, the need that only exists for him. But your mind was on overdrive.

You heard a small ding sound and that is when you knew you were on the ground floor. You pulled back as fast as possible and gathered your things. You felt like you were dreaming but your lips reddened with his small bites were telling you otherwise. 

You were so embarrassed; he was probably playing with you, and you almost fucked him on the spot. 

With the heat coming to your cheeks, you power walked outside of the building. Almost not being able to breath. You saw him coming towards you and you decided to make your way towards the sea of people and disappear. You had no idea what to think or feel, so you did what you do best. Run.

Seungmin was not expecting this. He knows he kissed you, but he never imagined that you would have kissed him back. He was expecting a slap or snarky remarks but not this. The best damn kiss he had in his lifetime. He knew he was fucked, he would never get over this, over you. 

He was flushed and barely breathing. He never felt fireworks like this before. Your lips tasted like mint, coffee and hint of cigarettes. And he was addicted. Just like a true addict, he wanted more. He needed more. 

[creepylittlelady]

Welcome friends <3

Hello.

Let's all be friends okay?

In our own little world. we can thrive.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Hello, my name and my age aren't important right now. You can refer to me as Little Lady.

I mainly made this blog to make some friends and not be so lonely and find a way to live from day to day, since it can be hard, can't it?

I am welcome to all people, as long as you aren't too dodgy. Let's all be friends with each other. (I am very antisocial so I don't know how to make friends easily, even on the internet.)

I suffer from mental illness and am on the Autism Spectrum, so I may be a bit odd sometimes.

Let's all hope for a bright future!

(I am a minor, just to let you know. If I continue this blog until I'm 18, I'll let you know.)

18/11/23:

Okay I’m going to edit this post, seeing as how this blog has been changing quite a bit recently.

So you see, I will post some weirdcore stuff from time to time but due to recent revelations I do want to focus this account on my Creepypasta AU, Puppet Strings. Soon I might make a post describing the lore of my AU.

I wanted to try and make a mix between fanon and canon in a way that I thought was fun considering I’ve been making this AU for about 7 years now!

If you’d like to request any character (besides Offenderman) then feel free to go ahead! I’m always available even if it takes a while for me to respond :)

Let’s all have fun together!

[theflyingfeeling]

For those who are interested in what I have managed to write for my "Gran Hotel AU" so far: ta-da!

..and those who have no idea/memory of what I'm on about: last spring I wrote this short fic in the AU I had come up with (loosely inspired by my trip to Dublin and the Spanish TV series Gran Hotel). This part below I wrote last summmer, and it's actually chapter 3, but since chapter 2 is about a different character entirely, it's not too illogical to read this one first, in my opinion. That is, if there ever will be chapter 2 😅😩 I put my outline for chapter 2 in the tags (mild spoiler alert)! I also suggest you read my ideas for the AU in general in the tags of the post linked above, otherwise I'm afraid this won't make much sense 😆

~

The grove of the family cemetery greeted Joel like an old friend, taking him into its cool embrace, which Joel was grateful for in the heat of the late afternoon.

He walked past his grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ graves, only stopping to snip a dried leaf off the light blue violet in front of his paternal grandmother’s tombstone. In his mind Joel promised to bring her fresh ones for her next name day. Grandmama would understand, he thought. She always did.

By the duck pond Joel dropped by the resting place of his father’s twin brother, taken by pneumonia only two days before their sixth birthday. With no one having actively tended to the grave since grandmama’s passing nearly a decade ago, the old stone had begun to grow moss, all but covering the golden carvings. Usually Joel was too inside his own head to mind the grave of an uncle he never came to know other than from grandmama’s stories, but today something pulled him towards the plain, small mound to root out most of the weeds thriving on it. Perhaps he had heard grandmama’s authoritative voice in his ears for a split second.

From there he continued his unhurried journey deeper into the memorial park, anticipating as much as awaiting the final few stops on his tour, until he arrived at his father’s grave.

The white lilies had dried weeks ago already, but Joel was yet to find the energy or motivation to throw them away. The carvings on the stone were still fresh, however, standing out from the already worn ones on the right side of the stone.

Like every day for the past almost four weeks, Joel had no clue what to say. Say nothing, Joonas would have advised him, he ain’t gonna hear you anyway, he’s dead. 

Ironically, Joel had not said a whole lot to his father when he had still been alive either.

Be as it may, something about the cemetery always made Joel talkative. He couldn’t have explained it if he tried to, but he supposed grandmama’s habit of walking in between the tombstones having full conversations with her long-deceased parents, her late husband and her baby boy had something to do with it. Joonas had always found it a little creepy and had politely declined grandmama’s plea for him to come along and learn about the history of his family, whereas Joel had gone with her each time, following on her heels and helping her take care of the flowers. One time, when grandmama had already needed a walking stick to support herself, she had asked Joel to look after the family graves and the garden surrounding them once she would be “gone to meet her maker”, as she had put it then. Joel had promised, but only after grandmama had reassured he wouldn’t have to go near the eerie, tumbledown mausoleum of his great-grandparents’, the founders of the Hokka estate.

That was why Joel often found himself crouching in front of names that no longer lived in people’s mouths, at least not the way they used to, staring at the dates that had changed his life forever, biting his lip in a failed attempt to keep himself from spitting out the disrespectful words.

“Fuck you.” 

He grabbed a fistful of grass in his palm and continued without opening his mouth to speak the words out loud.

Fuck you for treating her the way you did.

Fuck you for treating them both the way you did. 

Fuck you for treating us the way you did.

Fuck you for loving a bottle of whiskey more than your sons.

Fuck you for tending your minibar with more compassion and care than the legacy you’d be passing on to us.

Fuck you for dying of a heart attack at 65 and leaving us with this sinking ship.

Joel threw the shredded grass on the drooped lilies.

Fuck you for not being here for me.

When the letters on the tombstone began to blur, Joel looked away to get a hold of himself once more before he would move on. Visiting his father’s grave filled him with so much anger and bitterness and inexplicable hopelessness that he felt like skipping it altogether, but so far he hadn’t had the guts to do so, as if his old man’s disappointed look was still nailed to his back.

Having found his regular breathing frequency again, Joel stood up and turned to the pink roses growing in front of the right-hand half of the stone. 

The woman resting in the casket six feet under may not have been Joel’s real mother, but she was the only mother he had ever had.

Although she had had a tendency to favour her biological son when it came to deciding which birthday boy was served the last piece of the strawberry cake (even if Joonas was, more often than not, willing to share) or who was bought new clothes more frequently, Joonas’ mother was still the kindest woman Joel knew and had truly loved Joel as he was her own.

The only time Joonas ever visited the cemetery was when they planted the roses on her every birthday in the beginning of June. 

The last time Joel had seen Joonas cry was the day she had died, on a frosty February morning when Joonas had been fifteen and Joel sixteen. They had held each other close on Joonas’ bed, listening to their father breaking glasses in the office room above them.

‘Cause of death: fever’ Joel had read from the death certificate he had found in one of his father’s drawers in search of cigarettes, but in reality no one seemed to be certain what really had taken her. Their father had suspected it had been a food poisoning, and so he had had an excuse to take out his grief on the the blameless members of the staff and fired the chef and half the waiters, whereas grandmama had comforted the half-orphaned teenage sons that their mother’s heart had finally burst from loving her boys too much (which hadn’t been half as soothing as grandmama had probably intended it to be; instead, it had given Joel nightmares for weeks). There had even been talk in the town that she had gone mad with jealousy over her husband’s numerous affairs and eventually fallen fatally ill, simply due to heartbreak and excruciating loneliness.

Joel, on the other hand, knew better. He knew she had been stronger than that, always trying her best to make sure Joonas and Joel had been outside playing or bothering the kitchen staff, far out of earshot whenever she had confronted her husband after finding yet another maid in his bed. He knew she must have been unhappy in her marriage, but also that she had been aware of what she had married into. Yet, she had chosen to stay, not because she had loved her husband that much, but because she had understood she could never have afforded as much as a roof above her head, let alone be allowed to take her boys with her, even if she had been able to provide evidence of the adultery committed by her husband. She had stayed, because despite how miserable her life had undoubtedly been from time to time, she had wanted to ensure a happy childhood for Joonas and Joel, one where they’d have at least one loving parent in their life.

She would have deserved so much better than an unfaithful drunkard of a husband with heaven knows how many secret lovers and possibly even more illegitimate children. She would have deserved a more honourable final resting place than that next to the honourless scoundrel who had selfishly demanded to be buried by her side; a pathetic excuse of a man who had never deserved one bit of her unselfishness.

Those were among the countless of other things Joel usually murmured as he sat in front of her grave, on the grass right by the roses, just to be closer to her. This time, however, he remained silent, only reaching his hand to caress the cheek of a porcelain angel Joonas and he had brought there on the first anniversary of her death. The angel was missing its right wing, broken when the statue had been knocked down in an exceptionally intense thunderstorm. Joel had been devastated by the loss, but Joonas had told him she probably didn’t mind; she had always been drawn to all things broken and imperfect. 

“You know, like that teacup without a handle she didn’t want to throw away because it had her favourite flower painted on it,” Joonas had said.

And me, Joel had almost added, the bastard son of her husband she could have easily thrown out of the house the second his father slid a ring on her finger and no one would have judged her for it. 

Instead, she had read him bedtime stories and kissed his knee better when he had fallen down from a tree, and Joel wished he had told her how grateful he was for it all when she had still been alive to hear it. Alas, around the time of her death, Joel had been an adolescent full of rage, too burdened by frustration and fear to worry about the mortality of his mother. 

“Joonas says hi,” he whispered to the tombstone. He touched two of his fingers to his lips and pressed them against the cold of the stone before getting up and walking away, towards the grave he always saved last on his tour.

During the years following their mother’s death, Joel and Joonas had kept receiving pitying looks and regretful words of condolence from members of the staff, the people of the town, and even the hotel guests who had gotten wind of the tragedy. “Poor boys,” they always said, “how ill-starred in life must one be, to lose his mother at such a young age.”

Yet, Joel had always thought Joonas was lucky.

At least he only had one mother to grieve.

Fair enough, Joel had never known his birth mother, the only daughter of Mr. Byström, who had been one of the most important investors of the hotel once upon a time. From the hotel’s tattletale receptionist Joel had heard that Mr. Byström and his wife had disappeared in a storm on their way across the Atlantic, only a week after Mr. Byström had asked Joel’s father to “take his girl under his wing”, should something happen to them during their journey.

Joel was pretty sure that by “taking his girl under his wing” Mr. Byström had not meant “knocking her up at the age of 19”.

Grandmama had never talked much about the circumstances of Joel’s birth, apart from the weather: “it was a real cloudburst, raining hounds and mousers for hours without end, and still your first scream was louder than any thunder that has ever roared above this house”. 

Joel supposed she had wanted to be considerate towards the lady of the estate by keeping the names of the hotel owner’s previous lovers out of her mouth, although it wasn’t like Joel’s mother had ever been given such a privilege to begin with.

When Joel had been but six months old, his mother had understood the rumours she had heard weren’t just rumours. For two more months she had borne looking at young Miss Porko’s swelling belly before she had filled the pockets of her trench coat with rocks and jumped down the bridge crossing the river that ran by the estate.

Hence, there was nothing but soil below the wonky wooden cross Joel had erected in her memory in the farthest corner of the memorial park, in the shade of an enormous, over a century-old oak tree. Even if her body had been found, she would have been buried nowhere near the estate, for she had never officially been part of the family. Still, Joel had wanted a place to visit her, to talk to her, and since the bridge from which she had jumped to her underwater grave had rotted away years ago, he had had no choice but to make her a memorial on his own.

When Joel arrived at the cross, he sighed as he saw it having fallen down again and crouched down to straighten it. Then he took the rose from behind his ear and stuck it in the soil, next to all the other ones in various stages of wilt.

Some days he talked to her about his day; how he had gotten out of bed just in time for supper and avoided everyone until leaving the house when the sun began to set. 

Other days he just sat there, wondering what on earth he should say to a mother who had not lived to see her firstborn’s first birthday. 

It most likely would have killed her anyway, had she not done the job herself; as if by some cursed twist of fate, Miss Porko’s son was born on the 5th of October, exactly one year after Joel’s birth. And while Joel had been welcomed to the world with an intense downpour, Joonas’ arrival had ended nearly two weeks of rainfall and lured out the first rays of the sun in almost a month, if Joel was to believe his grandmama, who had always loved to reminisce about the events of that day.

From across the cemetery Joel had one day dragged an old wooden bench that had been situated near the grave of a long-forgotten relative – an uncle who, according to grandmama, “had always been a bit of a pillock” – and replaced it in front of his mother’s. There he sat for hours on end, staring at the cross and the roses, asking the universe over and over again what life would be like for him if his birth mother had lived for longer than twenty years and seven months.

Or if Joonas’ mother had not collapsed all of a sudden when getting out of the bath while Joonas and Joel had been busy arguing about who got to sit on the front seat of their father’s new Mercedes.

Or if grandmama was still around, offering her prickly life wisdom at every turn.

Or if his father was lying passed out on the couch of his office instead of dead in his grave. Maybe one of these days Joel would have had the courage to say all the things he wanted to say to him.

As the sun disappeared behind the forest looming at the border of the estate, Joel lay on his side on the bench and hugged his knees to his chest. He kept his gaze fixed on the white cross for as long as he could still see it before it got too dark, before tiredness forced him to close his eyes and wait for restless sleep to come.

[seyaryminamoto]

I need to express how I love the fact that you never miss the opportunity of making Azula and Sokka very into extremely nerdy computer games in as many AUs as you can. It even made me interested in playing dragon age or hades (yes, because of that band au you wrote for sokkla saturdays and IHTBY. I also like the dragon age au you wrote, though in this one they were actual characters of that world instead of two nerds)

Hahaha, yeah... well, it's because they're nerds! It's canon! xDDDDDD At least, I can't help but see them that way. IHTBY is a hilarious AU where basically everyone's nerdy as hell, Azula had to be a nerd in secret, but now she no longer hides it. Ty Lee and Mai may be the only exceptions, but by now it's only a matter of time before they, too, are recruited into the nerd legions (?)

The online gaming angle really fit with IHTBY because of the original prompts were "meeting online" and "high school AU", both of which I had no idea how to combine organically until that whole idea came to mind. Sometimes the least likely prompts are the ones that do the trick xD but yeah, since it was a "meeting online" situation, I couldn't help but think about how that meeting would come about, and my occasional dabbling in suuuuper old and defunct MMORPGs supplied the answer. The game they play in IHTBY, Dannan, is actually based on the setting of an original story of mine that I haven't really found a way to fully articulate and that I'd probably need to massively rework... but the worldbuilding and concepts I had for it were a decent concept for the MMORPG I needed so, since I very much knew nothing about active MMORPGs at the time I was writing IHTBY, I just made up my own game and that's why they're not playing WoW or Genshin Impact or FFXIV (okay the last two would have been impossible considering how new they are x'D).

As for Hades... I'm still having Hades brainrot to this day x'D finished what may have been my most perfect run in it only yesterday, WITH ROCKET BOMB! (Eris Rail cluster rockets+Zeus legendary+Scintillating Ice Wine cast+Artemis legendary, the RNG gods smiled upon me with that build x'D). If I ever continue the band AU in a distant future, I hope that Melinoe's new adventures in Hades II will serve them as inspiration for making more music...

And in DA... I guess I just made them nerds in-story anyway x'D even if they're IN the game, so to speak, they're still nerdy in some ways. It's a constant, really. These two strategy-driven dorks can't help but thrive in learning new things, acquiring new talents, seeing more of whatever world they're in... I just love them and their inherent nerdiness. It's just one more level in which I'm sure they'd understand each other perfectly <3

[dataplusweb-blog]

Bizagility

BUSINESS AGILITY : PROMESSE OU RÉALITÉ ?

#businessagility

capacité à tirer parti du changement, si votre transformation agile ne répond pas à toutes vos attentes ou présente un effet plateau, ou si vous vous demandez comment conjuguer rentabilité et satisfaction des collaborateurs et clients

« L’AGILITÉ est la caractéristique qui permet à une organisation de PROSPÉRER

dans un environnement de changement constant et imprévisible. » 

Quelques années plus tard, conscient que la définition initiale manquait d’intention, Rick Dove l’a complétée en insistant sur la capacité à voir l’imprévu comme une opportunité au service d’une finalité (la mission de l’entreprise) :

« The ability to thrive

in an environment of continuous and unpredictable change.

deploying effective response to both opportunity and threat, 

within mission. »

Jorgen Hesselberg , auteur de Unlocking Agility, l’exprime en 2018 dans une formule concise et élégante :

« embracing change, executing with purpose”

Un mouvement continu

Après un détour par le domaine spécifique du développement logiciel, il s’agit d’un retour vers la perspective globale de l’entreprise.

Fortement inspirée par le Toyota Production System et l’évolution d’autres entreprises du manufacturing, l’agilité a explosé dans le secteur informatique à partir de la publication du manifeste agile pour le développement logiciel en 2001. 

D’abord centré sur une petite équipe, le mouvement a évolué vers plus de complexité en abordant des environnements de produits requérant plusieurs équipes. Même dans l’agilité à l’échelle, la réflexion partait toujours des équipes de production (il s’agissait d’étendre ces pratiques à une plus grande échelle dans une vision assez linéaire) en y intégrant progressivement des refontes organisationnelles liées aux équipes pluridisciplinaires et les impacts sur les fonctions supports.

On arrive depuis 2017-2018 aux limites de ce que l’on peut obtenir avec cette approche, même SAFe, le leader sur ce marché, le reconnaît dans sa version de 2019 :

“Agile product delivery isn’t enough. You need business agility. »

Pour obtenir cette capacité de l’entreprise qui reboucle avec la vision de l’agilité définie en 1991, un changement de perspective s’impose. Il ne s’agit plus de mettre à l’échelle depuis l’équipe de production, mais de développer la capacité globale de toute l’entreprise à réaliser sa mission.

Comment faire ? 

Selon Evan Leybourn, la Business Agility s’appuie donc sur 3 processus complémentaires :

Rechercher la Valeur Métier : les bénéfices économiques

Mettre le Client au centre, comprendre ses besoins, voire les anticiper

Faire grandir et briller les Personnes : pour une entreprise brillante, il faut des gens qui brillent 

Une démarche

Il s’agit de définir un objectif du point de vue de l’activité économique de l’entreprise, pas de considérer l’agilité comme une fin en soi.

Pour atteindre cet objectif, l’agilité sera une démarche, pas une méthode. Cette démarche peut emprunter entre autres le chemin de « l’Agile Way of Working » : comment changer la manière de travailler ensemble ? 

Elle impactera différents services, souvent d’abord les RH, le marketing et la gouvernance incarnée dans les comités de direction.

Une approche globale dont le point de départ n’est pas l’équipe.

Conjuguer perception et action

Attention, ce n’est pas parce que l’on part d’un objectif métier qu’il s’agit simplement de faire “better – cheaper – faster”. 

Comme l’écrit Steve Denning sur le mindset agile, il s’agit de combiner « changement de perception ET nouveaux comportements » dans une logique circulaire d’interactions permanentes. 

Exprimé différemment, pour devenir une entreprise apprenante s’attacher à développer la capacité à apprendre à apprendre en discernant ce qu’il est nécessaire de désapprendre.

Penser et produire différemment.

Multiplication des modèles 

Qui dit domaine émergent dit mouvements pour occuper ce nouveau territoire afin d’y développer du business. Conséquences de ces mouvements, les modèles et frameworks décrivant la Business Agility se multiplient. J’espère pouvoir jouer un rôle de guide et de mentor avec mes collègues du cabinet “Le Singe Cuivre” pour vous aider à vous y repérer. Je commence en présentant succinctement quelques modèles. Attendons-nous à ce que cette liste incomplète s’allonge encore dans les prochains mois…

Business Agility Institute

Le B.A.I propose un modèle qui couvre 12 domaines répartis en trois-tiers centrés sur le client, la raison d’être de l’entreprise (*) :

Leadership : la direction de l’entreprise

Individuals : les personnes, leurs compétences et leur état d’esprit

Operations : la manière de s’organiser pour collaborer et produire de la valeur

Pour chaque tiers, il existe une vue systémique : workforce pour les individus, Board pour le leadership, partners pour les opérations.

(*) Citation de Peter Drucker :

« une entreprise ne se définit pas par sa raison sociale, ses statuts ou la législation » « La raison d’être d’une organisation est de permettre à des gens ordinaires de faire des choses extraordinaires »

Agile Business Consortium

L’exécution de projets et d’activités métier de manière agile est un élément clé de l’agilité de l’entreprise, mais ils ne rendront pas une organisation agile par eux-mêmes. Les entreprises agiles ont également besoin d’une stratégie agile incluant une approche agile de leur marché.

Pour cela, le framework proposé par le consortium se structure en trois niveaux :

Le cœur « Agile Business Change » va soutenir un changement agile décrit dans plusieurs portefeuilles : projets, programmes, évolution des services, évolution des produits

Ce changement va induire deux évolutions, la première au niveau de la structure de l’organisation, la seconde sur l’aspect opérationnel. Autrement dit comment s’organise-t-on pour faire différemment et comment fait-on différemment ?

Cela aura un impact déterminant sur 5 domaines de l’entreprise :

Les personnes (quelque soit le niveau hiérarchique)

la culture

le leadership

la stratégie

la gouvernance

Requisite agility

La devise de ce mouvement est « Manage Change and Uncertainty ». Cette intention de gérer l’ingérable me laisse un peu dubitatif. Néanmoins, je partage l’intention exprimée : « its agenda of promoting the informed design of healthy and effective organizations that match the complexity and dynamism of today’s turbulent environment.« 

Requisite Agility

L’approche est un peu différente puisqu’on ne part pas des composants de l’entreprise, mais des capacités nécessaires pour améliorer l’agilité globale. 

Soient :

Responsiveness : la réactivité

Resilience : la résilience

Adaptatibility : l’adaptabilité

Flexibility : la flexibilité 

Pas évident dans un premier contact de saisir les différentes nuances entre ces termes ! Comme je participe en décembre à une conférence organisée par ce mouvement, j’y verrai plus clair en fin d’année pour préciser ce que sous-entend chaque adjectif…

SAFe 5

Le groupe de travail chargé de l’évolution de SAFe a senti le vent venir et la version 5 qui vient de sortir fin octobre 2019 incorpore la Business Agility dans la pure logique du framework : “toujours plus”.

“L’agilité professionnelle se produit lorsque l’ensemble de l’entreprise (dirigeants commerciaux et responsables techniques, conformité, développement, finances, juridique, marketing, opérations, ventes, sécurité, support) utilise les pratiques Lean et Agile pour fournir de manière continue et proactive des solutions commerciales innovantes plus rapidement que la concurrence.” (traduction par l’auteur depuis le site de SAFe).

Notez que SAFe ne parle que de pratiques là où les nombreuses études récurrentes (VersionOne, Business Agile Institue, Agile Alliance, McKinsey…) montrent que la pratique sans le mindset associé ne donne ni les résultats escomptés, ni la persistance dans le temps.

La description de SAFe s’organise autour de deux axes : stratégie et exécution, dans une bonne vieille logique de cabinet de conseil qui sait attirer le chaland. Est-elle la plus à même de changer les manières de penser ET d’agir comme nous l’exprime Steve Denning ? L’interface entre les deux domaines s’effectue via un leadership Lean-Agile.

Très à l’écoute des envies des entreprises (qui diffèrent de leurs besoins comme la friandise diffère du fruit), SaFe propose dans cette mouture une mesure de la Business Agility sur plus de 20 composants structurant le framework.

On voit bien le mouvement opéré par le framework qui est explicitement décrit comme : « SAFe as a second organizational operating system to achieve business agility »

Synthèse

Les dessins, les répartitions diffèrent, mais l’idée générale est la même : aborder la transformation de l’entreprise non plus en mettant à l’échelle depuis des équipes opérationnelles, mais en renforçant la capacité globale de l’entreprise à apprendre à apprendre. 

Alors fake ou réalité ?

Mon intention en listant les principaux modèles participant à ce modèle est de vous laisser vous forger votre propre opinion.

La mienne se forge sur les constats suivants :

l’agilité ne peut pas rester cantonnée à une revendications de plus d’autonomie pour les développeurs

une agilité poursuivie comme une fin en soi et cantonnée à la DSI se vide lentement de sens. J’en vois des exemples en permanence dans les différentes entreprises dans lesquels je me rends.

l’agilité au niveau de l’entreprise ne peut s’obtenir uniquement par une mise à l’échelle depuis du bottom-up 

pour être durable l’agilité doit commencer par l’exemplarité du changement au plus haut niveau de l’entreprise

l’agilité n’est pas une affaire d’adoption de pratiques ou de déploiement de méthodes, c’est une capacité qui requiert un profond changement de mindset au sens où l’entend Steve Denning, à la fois dans la perception et l’action.

Répondre à tous ces constats (et à ceux non mentionnés ici) requiert un mouvement plus ample, plus global correspondant à la promesse exprimée par la Business Agility. Donc, oui pour moi, c’est une mutation nécessaire, en rupture par rapport à l’agilité à l’échelle qui présente souvent un effet plateau.

[jeweled-blue-eyes]

OMG I love your ideas! They're so good, I might try to incorporate little parts of them in my AU... with your permission, of course.

The main difference between Athy and Penelope, I think, is how their “inner storms” are.

Athy's storm is still strong, still bright and cold and marvelous, but it's no longer the clawing, grasping, desperate thing that it was once. Her time in Siodonna has calmed and tempered it. She's cool rain and overcast skies and moonlit winds.

But Penelope? She's all edge. Broken glass and glinting steel. Cutting and wild, she has sharpened her edges. Makes sense, considering her circunstances. Street rats and escaped slaves and oppressed people, underground work and hidden shadows planning a rebellion. A war. She has very little softness left in her, little fragments of what remains from the time spent with her mother when she was still alive.

Their respective mentor/mother figures are two sides of the same coin as well, just like the girls. Both stern, proud, strong, but one is harsher and more vicious than the other, mostly due to the difference in their life circumstances, and it shows in their proteges. Athy's mentor wasn't privileged, not exactly, but she didn't go through what Penelope's mentor went through.

Callisto's approach to his situation, I think, is “I will fuck them over by thriving in their impossible system. It'll be a middle finger to their faces.” while Iklies and Penelope in this AU, they escape and they make a stand against it from outside the system. If Callisto were young enough... he could be converted, possibly. I'd like him to have an encounter with Penelope's future adoptive mother/mentor, during a war when he was a child and he's injured. They part ways after she nurses him back to health (“May we never meet again. Next time we meet it will be as enemies.”), but the encounter stays with him. Whether he decides to convert to their side years down the line, or he stubbornly continues to remain on the Empire's side despite it causing him nothing but pain?

Well.

That part is yet undecided.

I really like the idea of childhood friends Iklies Penelope and Callisto, though I wonder if I'll be able to have that in my AU... If I align the timeline just right...

If they did becomes friends when they were children, broken and battered and bruised all while a war wages around them... It'd be so much more gutting when they stand against each other (that is, unless, Callisto betrays the Empire and converts, but even then, there's plenty of angst potential before he joins their side). It'd lay a doubly tragic punch.

I really like the “Penelope becomes smth like a servant in Delman's court and helps Iklies rise to power” AU too! It won't be in this AU but it's certainly something to consider 👀

permission given with much love and hugs! <3

I think the reason why the situation of Athy and Penelope is so different is because Athy fled before anything deeply traumatic could occour meanwhile Penelope is already traumatized and will get traumatized further and further. (the death of her parents, starvation, discrimination and persecution). The thoughts of revenge will never let her sleep in peace. Even if she fled from the duchy she would make a mental to-kill-list just to cope with her trauma and find a reason to live and keep her going even if the times are hard. It's the thought that keeps her from slitting her wrist and ending her life. If she were to find a nice couple willing to adopt her while a war was looming on the horizont she'd be highly suspicious and feel...as strange as it sounds..almost uneasy? She wouldn't believe in kindness without ulterior motive. Penelope would deny herself such happiness. She chooses the road adorned with thorns. Pain is all she has ever known. This is why she would feel an irresistable pull towards Iklies and all the other outcasts who have gathered in the shadows of the city. They could empathize with her pain, had suffered the same hardships if not worse.

I hc her relationship with Iklies as almost always unhealthy and co-dependent. I guess in this AU Iklies would still be a yandere just not single-minded one. He has another goal besides her which is the safety of his people. Would he fight recklessly, torture people, be vicious and vengeful, cold and manipulative and willing to sacrifice innocents for his final goal? I think he would if Penny doesn't stop him. He's full of pent-up rage which begs to be released. But Penelope is similar in such regards. So I wonder if he could awaken Penelope's darker side too or if she would resist 👀. Or if she tried not to notice and at times compartmentalizes. I hc that Penny would be insanely loyal once she considers someone of her people, so she'd probably feel conflicted to bring up his problematic traits or straight up be unable to recognize them.

Ahh.. Callisto. Every good story needs a villain doesn't it. The second prince is currently underdeveloped. And since the role of the hero falls to Iklies (as dubiously as he might act) that would make Callisto the villain until he gets a wake up call, but it'd be so much more tragic if he realized too late. If he regretted not having taking Penelope's mentor's hand and it's the shade of a certain girl's magenta coloured hair he sees in the corner of his eyes in the final moments before he dies. I'm so weak for (almost) friends turned enemies lamenting what could have been if they had choosen differently.

Penny's mentor sounds cool. I feel like she'd be the only person Iklies would secretly fear lol. In my mind have the image of a protective teacher who behaves kind of like a Mama Bear if they senses their students are threatened. Am I right?

[fontegagrilledcheese]

Dumbasses in Quarantine

This is my Bog Exchange fic! I finally finished! This is for the lovely @herostag I hope they like it!

Special thanks to Dani and Doug for beating my grammar with a stick. Ily <3

This is 2.9K words of idiots being idiots during the plague. Just pure fluff, no CW here. Modern Au.

1. Geralt had finally had enough of Jaskier complaining about all the takeout they had been consuming since everything had gone on lockdown, so here he was, watching a pot of noodles cook while Jaskier was in the living room weeding his island in Animal Crossing for the third time that week. He stirs the spaghetti around before grabbing a second pot and the jar of pasta sauce that he had bought at some point in the last few years. Geralt pours the sauce into the pot, throws some Italian seasoning in and hmms at the consistency before ladling some pasta water into the sauce to thin it out slightly. “Dinner’s almost ready” Geralt softly calls to Jaskier before going back to his noodles, fishing one out to check the doneness. Geralt bites into it and makes a face at the sweetness as Jaskier walks into the kitchen.

 “Everything all right there?” Jaskier inquires, coming over to look into the pots on the stove. 

“Hmmm, I think so. Taste this?” Geralt fishes another noodle out to hand over to Jaskier, who eats it with a hum. 

“That doesn’t taste right,” Jaskier says thoughtfully. “But I don't know enough about cooking to dispute it.” 

Geralt hums again, “Think it will be fine?” 

Jaskier just shrugs and goes to set the table, leaving Geralt to finish putting the meal together. Geralt tilts his head at the pots on the stove before pulling out his phone to text  Eskel ‘is pasta supposed to be sweet when cooking?’

While waiting for a reply, Geralt drains the noodles and dumps them into the sauce to stir them in before his phone rings with a call from Eskel. 

“You tried a noodle and it tasted sweet?”

“Yeah, is it supposed to be like that?”

There is a moment of silence where Lambert can be heard laughing in the background before Eskel replies, “Are you sure you put salt in the water?”

“Yeah, poured a bunch of salt in there like you said to.”

Eskel hums, “Are you sure it wasn't sugar? Did you make sure to taste it first?”

The silence on Geralt's side is telling, and Lambert can be heard dying in the background. 

“Thanks Eskel,” Geralt says before hanging up and staring down at the pot of sugared spaghetti. 

“Hey Jask, how do you feel about getting takeout again?”

Jaskier sighs, “What happened?”

Geralt blushes “I… I may have put sugar in the water instead of salt…”

“Oh… but the sauce?” 

“I put some of the pasta water in the sauce to thin it.”

Jaskier starts giggling, “G-Geralt... noooo.”

Geralt sighs, wearily turning off the stove. “So takeout?” 

“Yeah, takeout is fine. Whatever you feel like.”

Geralt hums and pulls up the delivery app, “Sorry, Jask.”

Jaskier sidles up to him, giving him a half hug, “Thanks for trying.” He leans fully into him so he can see Geralt's phone as they order.

2. A while into quarantine, Jaskier decided he needed some greenery in his life, since he couldn’t leave the house. This led Jaskier to order himself a cute little cactus from a local nursery for the next time they order a grocery pick up. Talking Geralt into stopping by the shop on the way back from the store proved easier than Jaskier had anticipated. Geralt had begrudgingly agreed after hours of Jaskier’s pouting and puppy eyes wearing him down. 

Jaskier dances around the apartment with his new treasure before placing it on the sunny windowsill in their living room. Geralt rolls his eyes but smiles at his roommates' antics, “You do know how to take care of it don’t you?”

Jaksier pouts at him, “It’s a cactus, how hard can it be! I just water it every so often and bam, beautiful thriving mini Geralt!”

Geralt huffs at him, grabbing a controller for their gaming console, “You promised I could destroy you at Mortal Combat if we picked up the plant.”

“Yes, yes Geralt I’m coming, just let me water my precious child.”

Weeks later, Little Geralt starts looking a bit droopy, causing Jaskier to water him, but unfortunately Jaskier does not account for his ADHD and lack of calendar filling out, and proceeds to water the poor cactus every day for the next two weeks, water logging and eventually killing poor Little Geralt.

Once Jaskier realizes, he cries to Geralt only a little and has a funeral for the cactus as he throws it away, being the absolute most dramatic about it as possible. Geralt just rolls his eyes at the antics and adds a new plant to the order list to pick up the next time they have their outing to go get groceries.

Jaskier gives Geralt the biggest hug when he realises they’re heading to the plant store and talks excitedly about how determined he is to to not kill Little Geralt the Second; Geralt just rolls his eyes half heartedly but helps Jaskier set up a calendar to keep track of when he’s watered the cactus. This works for about a month before Jaskier gets busy and forgets about his little plant, frying on the windowsill, until Geralt notices about three months later.

“Hey Jask, your cactus is looking a bit… shriveled.”

Jaskier rushes into the living room “NO!” He yells as he slides to a stop on his knees before the  dried up little plant “Noooooooo, Little Geralt the Second, nooooo!” he shakes his fists at the ceiling.

Geralt pats his shoulder comfortingly, “At least it lived longer this time.”

Jaskier shakes his head with a sigh. “I’m a terrible plant parent.”

Geralt hmms consolingly, “We can get you another. I’ll try to help you keep better track of it this time.” 

Jaskier nods, “Thanks Geralt,” and picks up his dead plant to go throw it out. 

Geralt just hmms and pulls up the pick-up list on his phone to add a new little cactus.

Three months later, Little Geralt the Third is thriving in its place on the windowsill, happily soaking up the sun on a bright spring day as a breeze comes through the window. Jaskier dances around the living room, vacuuming and dusting as Geralt cleans the kitchen of the previous night’s actually decent attempt at cooking. Jaskier sings along to ABBA, twirling with his duster mic when disaster strikes poor Little Geralt the Third. Jaskier swirls too close to the window and pops his hip at just the wrong time and the plant wobbles before being pushed off the edge and falls three stories down to the concrete sidewalk down below. Jaskier freezes at the crashing sound and turns to look out the window, staring down at his poor, broken plant.

“Nooooooo, Geralt!” Jaskier yells, and Geralt comes running in from the kitchen, startled by Jaskier’s cry. 

“Jask?!” 

Jaskier just points down at the sidewalk, falling to his knees “Geralt, I killed him! I killed our son! To ABBA!” 

Jaskier sprawls out on the floor dramatically, mourning the fate of poor Little Geralt the Third, who had been thriving wonderfully before going splat on the pavement. 

Geralt sits down next to his dramatic roommate and pats his leg, “That one was actually doing pretty well. Maybe we could get another and just find a better place for it to sit?”

Jaskier sniffles and looks through his lashes at Geralt, “Really?” 

Geralt nods before being tackled to the ground in a tight hug. 

“Thanks Geralt.” Jaskier whispers, nuzzling into his friend.

3. Geralt stood staring into the mirror at the red roots growing into his perfect silver platinum hair. He pouts at it, looking at his hair and then back down at his phone at the pictures of his past beautiful silver hair. 

“I can do it, how hard can it be?” he grumbles, glaring back at his roots. He nods to himself before searching different bleaches, toners, and silver dyes that are available at their local beauty shop.

A week and two trips to the store later, Geralt is once again standing in the bathroom and glaring at his roots in the mirror. “How hard can it be...”

Five hours later, Jaskier comes home from the park to Geralt sitting on the couch in a hoodie with the hood on and scrunched up around his face, pouting.

“So how did it go?” he asks.

Geralt grunts in response.

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” comes Jaskier’s exasperated reply, reaching for the hood over the back of the couch.

Geralt growls and catches his hand, yanking and pulling Jaskier over the couch and partially into his lap.

Jaskier laughs and reaches up again with both hands, trying to use one as a distraction. Geralt growls again and tackles him to the floor to pin him, where they tussle around before Jaskier gets an upper hand and pulls the hood off. Geralt freezes as Jaskier stares at him with wide eyes and a growing smile.

 “Don’t,” he growls.

Jaskier’s grin turns into giggles, then into full on laughter. “Geralt! Your hair!” 

Geralt sits back with a pout, still sitting on Jaskier. “I know, it's horrible.”

“It's bright purple! What did you do!?”

Geralt flushes, “I forgot to set a timer and left the toner in too long. It should wash out and wear off in a few weeks,” he grumbles.

Jaskier continues to giggle. “Well at least it's not permanent, and you bleached the roots pretty well.”

Geralt sighs and nods before laying down on Jaskier for a consolation cuddle. “Yeah, at least there's that.”

4. Geralt’s birthday was coming up and Jaskier was determined to celebrate it, even if they couldn’t go on their customary birthday bar crawl that they had gone on for both of their birthdays since they had been roommates in college. Jaskier wanted to go the extra mile for his bestest friend in the whole world and decided that he was going to make Geralt a homemade cake, icing drizzle and all. Jaskier had scoured the internet for weeks trying to find a cake he thought geralt would like and that he thought he could make with his limited baking abilities. He finally found the perfect recipe for a simple strawberry pound cake that he only had to buy a minimal amount of extra ingredients for. 

The day of Geralt's birthday, Jaskier sets up in the kitchen and banishes Geralt to the living room to play his new Witcher game while Jaskier makes the cake. 

He starts by setting out everything he needs and getting the beaters set up and his recipe out. He preheats the oven and then gets to work measuring everything out carefully, looking back at his recipe often, so often he doesn’t quite notice that he’s grabbed the salt container instead of the sugar and measures out the three cups the recipe calls for before adding it into the wet ingredients bowl to cream together as stated by the recipe. Jaskier goes about making his cake and mixing it up, carefully pouring it into the disposable cake tin they had bought specially for the event before putting it in the oven and carefully setting a timer on his phone.

He takes a break for a moment to make a cup of tea before cleaning up the mess from the cake and mixing up the simple drizzle icing for the cake.

The timer goes off and Jaskier pokes the cake with a toothpick as he has been directed, frowning at the lopsided cake. 

“Is that how it should look?” he mutters to himself, looking at the clean toothpick. “Guess it’s done.”

He pulls the cake out of the oven and  sets it on the rack to cool, poking little holes in it with the toothpick to help it cool and absorb some of the icing later.

After 30 minutes, he drizzles the icing over the cake, humming happily to himself. 

“Geralt, do you want to do cake now or later?” he calls into the living room. Geralt hmms and stands before replying, “Now.”

Jaskier grins and grabs them plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake with.

Geralt stands beside him at the counter, smiling softly at the cake Jaskier has made him. 

“Thanks Jask,” he says softly. 

Jaskier grins fully at him. “Happy birthday, Geralt!”

They cut into the cake and serve themselves. Geralt happily eats his, reaching out to get seconds while Jaskier frowns at his slice. “Does this taste right to you?” he takes another bite while Geralt shrugs.

“Tastes fine to me,” he replies, happy to continue eating what his Jaskier has made him. 

Jaskier frowns more and looks at his recipe, “I dunno, doesn’t it taste salty?” 

Geralt hmms in thought before continuing to eat, “Suppose so, but it’s not too bad.”

Jaskier gasps. “Geralt! No Geralt, stop eating that! I must have mixed up the salt and sugar when I was measuring, oh! It's terrible, I’m so sorry, Geralt,” he whines, looking almost at the verge of tears. 

This causes Geralt to pause his gremlin-like cake eating, setting the plate down before pulling his best friend into a tight hug, resting his head against the others. “So maybe you had a booboo with it and it’s a little salty. You know I’m not picky, and it tastes fine and vaguely like strawberries. I’ll eat it anyway, Jask.” he grumbles out.

Jaskier sniffles. “But you deserve a good cake that’s made correctly.”

Geralt hums, “Maybe, but this is something you’ve made for me with all your heart, and I think it tastes alright, and I will keep eating it, because you made it for me and that makes it taste all the sweeter.”

Jaskier sniffles again, squeezing the man in his arms tightly “Oh, you big softy! You don’t have to eat it.” 

“But I want to.”

“Fine.” Jaskier sighs, nuzzling the broad chest he’s pressed against. “Love you”

Geralt smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Jaskiers temple. “Love you too, you disaster.” 

Jaskier gasps and smacks his chest “You!”

Geralt laughs and grabs his cake before dragging Jaskier to the couch. “Come on, I demand my birthday cuddles.”

Jaskier puffs his cheeks but settles against Geralt on the couch, holding the controller for him “If this is my penance.”

5. Usually Jaskier did the laundry while Geralt did dishes. This was because Jaskier had many a delicate piece in his wardrobe and he did not trust Geralt to treat his clothes the right way if he were to do the laundry. Geralt didn’t care much either way who did the dishes and who did the laundry, as long as the chores ended up done in the end. This was how their kitchen, laundry nook, and part of their living room ended up absolutely covered in bubbles.

They had decided to switch up the chore rotation for the week because the dishes weren’t too bad and Jaskier hadn’t worn any of his ‘delicate’ pieces in the past week and a half, meaning there was nothing of his Geralt could mess up. The switching of chores had unforeseen consequences however, in that neither remembers exactly how to do the new chore, as they hadn’t had to in at least a year. Rather than ask the other for help, both Jaskier and Geralt decided to wing it and try their best. 

Jaskier stares down at Geralt, slav squatting, staring at the bubbles that were slowly invading their apartment via the laundry and kitchen. 

“So, I couldn’t remember which dish liquid was the one for the dishwasher and put the red one in, which was apparently the wrong choice…… What did you do to create the bubbles in the washer?” 

Geralt grunts. “That was the dawn dish soap that we hand wash the alcohol glasses with,” he sighs. “I may have put a full cup of laundry detergent in the washing machine”

Jaskier gasps “A full- Geralt! The entire cup!? That’s at least double the amount you’re supposed to use!” 

Geralt pouts. “I couldn’t remember how much,” he grumbles

“You could have asked me!”

This earns Jaskier a raised eyebrow and the stink eye.

“Fair enough,” he giggles. “We should have asked each other when we were confused.”

Geralt nods before standing. “Well I guess we should turn the appliances off before the bubbles get worse… wish me luck”

Jaskier nods and jokingly salutes him. “I’ll remember you dearly.”

Geralt chuckles and shakes his head before wading into the bubbles to stop the dishwasher and washing machine cycles.

A minute later he reappears, covered in bubbles from head to toe, looking like some sort of grumpy snowman. Jaskier laughs at him before Geralt smirks and captures him in a bear hug, causing the man to shriek. “Nooo! Geralt my clothes! Ackkkk!”

Geralt swings him, picking him up slightly. “I think if we let the bubbles settle we can clean up in a little, but we should change first.”

Jaskier pouts “The point of you doing it was so only one of us had to change.”

Geralt gives him a toothy grin, carrying him towards their bedrooms to change. “But you laughed at me, that demands retribution.”

Jaskier just sticks his tongue out at him before being set down in front of his room. “Wanna play Smash while we wait?”

Geralt grins, “What, wanna get wrecked that badly?” he winks to Jaskiers affronted gasp before going in his room to change.

guess I’ll add my tag list huh

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskiersvalley @jaskierswolf @dani-dandelino @wherethewordsare @softnerdypeter @thecomfortofoldstorries @dapandapod @lindianaj0nes @kuripon​ @elliestormfound @veritasrose

Hope y’all enjoyed it >///<

[alaffy]

Riverdale 5x17 - Riverdale (RIP?)

I'm a little mixed on this episode. I think I liked the second part more then the first. By the way, did this feel like two different episodes to anyone else? And yes, standard disclaimer, will be talking about the relationships and, yes, I will be talking about the possibilities. I have no interest in ship wars, just talking about the show.

Ok, Hiram is gone. It has been confirmed that Mark has left the series. I mean, they still can bring him back at some point. But I have a feeling we won't see him for awhile. Well, thank Reggie for coming in with the clutch as he finally gives everyone something to get Hiram out of town, even though it's anticlimactic.

Betty is now an agent. And she gets a call from TBK, who is basically like if you leave me alone, I'll leave you alone. And she tells him I can't do that. Which I took as the writers letting us know that TBK is coming, but probably after this five episode event.

The town of Riverdale is back. And will be run by Toni, Tabitha, Frank, and (yea gods) Alice. Couldn't Tom have been a choice?

Hiram is the one who burned Pops, but on the bright side Pop's has decided that he doesn't really want to retire and wants to work with his granddaughter. Which is a sweet moment on this show.

Now as for the characters themselves...it starts with a line from Jughead that I think actually sums up about what happens in this episode. They characters for the past year have been surviving, but not thriving and so we have a bunch of people in this, "where do we go from here mode?" Talking about where their futures are going. Archie is going to reopen Andrews construction. Jughead is reopening the school newspaper and may become a teacher again. Toni wants to get the Serpents more involved in the community. Veronica was going to go back to New York, but finds out that (because she killed Chad) no firm will hire her. So then she decides to go into business with Reggie. And Jughead and Tabitha, who have officially been on one date (look, the show literally says this), may move in together. And during this period, we also had Veronica make it clear over and over again that she and Archie are done forever (I think this is brought up like 3 or 4 times). Methinks the lady doth protest to much?

In any case, as of half way through the show, people are either in different relationships or in the case of (Veronica and Reggie/Archie and Betty) flirting with the relationships.

The thing is, it seems like these are directionless people who are trying to figure out where their lives are going. And as the story goes along, I'm sure some things will work out and others not so much. HOWEVER....

Let's go to Cheryl's story. Cheryl finds a ton of skeletons in her mines (like this should be a surprise). She then finds out the story of a relative of hers called Abigail was killed by the relatives of Jughead, Archie, and Betty (which they say Cooper, which means that it would also be a Blossom, so....). Anyway, Cheryl demands an apology and, when she doesn't receive one, places a curse on the three. And we have a moment where wind kicks up and everyone talking about the ominous wind. Afterwards, we have Veronica and Reggie seem to get back together and Archie and Betty seem to get back together. Until Archie finds a bomb under his bed. And as Hiram leaves the town, we see a fire in the background and we don't know what happened to Betty and Archie.

So, let's talk about the preview and possible futures. The towns sign has changed and it's now called Rivervale and Toni also confirms the name of it. Most of the shots are of very creepy things happening in that town. But there are also shots of Reggie and Veronica as some sort of a power couple. And there is a shot of Jughead and Tabitha who seem to live together, but it doesn't look like things are going well. So, what does this mean? Well, it looks like (but I'm not 100% sure) it is some form of AU (either done by magic or maybe Archie is in a coma because of the bomb). And, as the Roberto said, it does look like the couples we ended with are the couples that will be in 6A. Now, maybe these couples will remain together or maybe not, however if the story is self contained I don't know if that really means anything, if this is a different timeline. For instance, Jughead and Tabitha could rally have a bad relationship here, but then we go back to the correct timeline and they haven't even moved in together yet. Also, this does explain why Roberto said the 5 episodes have their own storyline because whatever they do, probably a lot of it won't affect the main timeline. Like they could turn Betty into a serial killer or the writers actually kill Jughead, but it won't matter when the world rights itself.

So, if I'm right about Rivervail being it's own little universe, then the story of Riverdale continues in 6B. The question is, will any of this affect 6B? And even if it is a dream of Archie's, will that change the relationship outcomes that we ended with in 6A? If Archie and Betty were in a life threatening situation, would Veronica and Jughead reconsider where their romantic lives are heading now? Would Betty and Archie? And, again, not saying they will, just that it's a possibility. I guess what I'm saying is that, while it seems like there are these new couples and they may last awhile, the idea of Betty and Archie almost being killed might be a way the writers use to get the original couples back. And, yes, I have heard some of the things the writers have been saying. But, again, it wouldn't surprise me if what they're saying refers more to 6A, then the whole of season 6.

[falsegoodnight]

there were so many good fics this month and i’m excited to talk about them! as always, this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 28th of may to the 28th of june. 

—

✰ oceaning abyss of orange by @hadestyles​ | T | 1k (this was so poetic and full of emotion – perfection as always <3)

— and Harry wants to scream, this is love.

✰ press into my bones by @hadestyles​ | E | 2k (this changed me as a person) 

Louis wakes up full.

✰ looks like we made it by @princelouisau​ | M | 2k (a new addition to the danielle-makes-me-cry saga, this time being from happiness overload) 

“I know we never talked about it because I wasn’t ready after all that shit, but it’s been kind of hard to miss how ready you are, and I guess your constant baby fever rubbed off on me.”

The grin takes over Harry’s face before he can fully process the words. “You’re ready?”

Louis hums. “Have been for a while, if I’m being honest.”

✰ baby baby, you’re a caramel macchiato by @missandrogyny​ | T | 3k (so cute; have missed their writing)

So, yeah, Harry doesn't think it's that far of a stretch to call himself a good barista. There are some particularly bad ones, and some particularly good ones, and, with his work ethic, his skill, and his charm, he'd probably be lumped in with the latter group.

✰ rumour has it by anditsonlyforthebrave | NR | 4k (a big fan of this new trope – very hot but also cute)

Harry and Louis are college sweethearts, Harry has a reputation and Louis just wants to be fucked. Too bad sex with Harry is boring.

✰ I’m Asking You Please, Don’t Talk Dirty to Me by @larry-hiatus​ | E | 10k (the concept hooked me in; the execution was wonderful)

Harry’s best friend Louis is a nice, well-mannered omega, at least when it comes to sex talk. He has always been closed off and quiet... until Harry hears how Louis talks during his heat. Now, it's all Harry can think about before his upcoming rut... 

✰ Hint: I want to be yours by @greenblueish​ | M | 11k (so very cute and lovely; loved this hl a lot)

Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't end.

✰ sometimes a fantasy by @thepolourryexpress​ | E | 19k (absolutely incredible as with any ni fic; friends to lovers goodness and so fucking funny)

There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch.

So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.

✰ hungered for your touch by @loubellies​ | E | 21k (so hot but also so sweet; more friends/roommates to lovers perfection. mar never disappoints!)

It shows up a week later. His phone dings with a text from his roommate, Harry, a photo attached to the message. It’s Harry and a package, the contents displayed clearly on the front of the box. Tears are rolling down Harry’s cheeks to match the excessive emojis he sent with the selfie.

Did someone prank you???

Louis’ face immediately goes as pink as the cage on the box in Harry’s huge hand, his stomach dropping into his ass. Fuck.

✰ Middle Ground by @darlou | E | 24k (a reread and all-time comfort read just like most other fics by this author)

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

✰ now is the winter of our discontent by @vogueharrystan​ | M | 29k (so unique and so good; loved the plot and the jealous harry and the plot twist!)

Where Harry is leading an army to overthrow the king of Cheshire and Louis is one of the volunteers who joins them along the way.

✰ i’m gonna keep this love, if you let me by @tomlinbuns​ | E | 26k (an amazing take on a tried and true trope; very cute and sweet)

Louis makes Harry pretend to be his boyfriend one night out. The rest is history.

✰ heroes of the orange skies by queenmcgonagall | NR | 31k (a bit late in reading this one... but it was so lovely and comforting in a way)

Louis likes bathroom walls and Sharpies, Harry likes metal, Zayn likes Liam and Liam likes Zayn, Niall is wise, and they all go to the zoo.

✰ In Your Scent I Thrive by @tomlinvelvetfics​ | E | 33k (super unique take on an abo college au; loved the use of dual pov and all the details as always <3)

Harry’s particular condition has made it impossible for him to enjoy people’s scent, until he meets Louis.

✰ tender is the night by @raspberryoatss​ | E | 41k (a new favorite!! ghost harry is my absolute favorite and i’m so pleased to add this to my reread rotation in the future <3 so fucking funny and so fucking cute!!)

Louis meets a certain ghost.

✰ Mead of Poetry by @lwtisloved​ | E | 65k (don’t know anything about bridgerton but this was absolutely lovely!! obsessed with the regency setting and all the angst and miscommunication)

Under the pressure of continuing the Styles viscountcy line now that he is getting older, Harry sets himself three rules to finally settle down and marry: firstly, the omega needs to be reasonably attractive, secondly, they must be of great mind, thirdly, they cannot be anyone he would ever fall in love with.

Enters Charlotte Tomlinson, the diamond of the first water of the upcoming season and seemingly the perfect candidate to the viscount’s plan, but her omega brother, Louis, is in Harry’s way. Louis only seeks to protect his sister and he sure is not going to let a rake play with her heart.

✰ Flash Back to Me by @mason-conaway​​ | E | 73k (amnesia aus are a guilty pleasure of mine and this one was so good! loved the banter and the dynamic between hl)

Louis loses his memory and Harry just about loses his mind trying to win him back (or something).

✰ And down the long and silent street by whimsicule | M | 86k (a reread – rediscovered this fic as well as how fucking incredible it is. an all-time favorite for sure!!)

Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

If you read any of these lovely fics, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

+ if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

[captains-simp]

Alrighty, my friend, whenever you get the chance, I would like a HeroxVillian AU with Carol, where somehow the reader ends up a villain and Carol is hesitant to fight them. Trying to reason with them. With the prompt(s) 3. “It wasn’t meant to go like this,” and 6. “You can't fix this,”

Obviously, I don’t want to rush you, so take all the time you need my love. 💜💜

Ilovethis ilovethis ilovethis. I'm getting some major FATWS vibes here. Thank you for being so patient with me, I hope it's as good as you deserve

Alexa, play Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley

"It wasn't meant to go like this."

"You can't fix this."

Warnings: corrupt reader and violence

2k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You remember the day you took the super soldier serum better than any other. It had changed you in more ways than one. It had changed your world view. It had changed the relationships that had taken years to build.

Carol was in danger. She had been hurt, rendered powerless. Someone had shot her with a specialised bullet made just for her to temporarily disable the hero's powers. You had been terrified you were going to loose her.

Fortunately, the same people who had made the bullet had been working on a super soldier serum. You were meant to take it back to the lab. It was meant to be destroyed. But you had no powers prior and in that moment you knew the only way you could save the love of your life was by taking that serum.

You had gotten Carol back safely just in time for the side effects of the serum to kick in. It wasn't completed and it sure as hell wasn't safe. You had spent weeks in the medical ward in the tower, right next to Carol.

You did a good job with your newfound powers at first. As soon as you were able to fight again you did just that, better than you ever had in your life. The lives you saved doubled maybe even tripled. You could go on more dangerous missions and fight worse people. You thrived off of your powers, eager to do anything and everything you could to help.

Everyone became so blinded by your eagerness no one ever stopped to think about what else it would do to you. It wasn't like you had ever shown any signs of what was to come.

After a while, it slowly began to twist your world view. Carol picked up on that. Your silent and suppressed nature troubled her. Deeply. She never knew exactly what it was you were thinking. She never understood the things you convinced yourself.

Eventually it was something that couldn't be contained to just some in the moment thoughts. You wanted to accomplish all of the things you wished were real.

As an Avenger you had seen the injustice in the world. It wasn't new. But when the power went to your head you convinced yourself you could change things. For the better. Get rid of all the dirty cops, corrupt judges, sadistic governments. You thought you could change it all. What you never understood was that there were limits.

Changes like that couldn't happen over night. They shouldn't. The world wouldn't be able to adjust fast enough. You never considered the effort it would take to rebuild, because that wasn't your role.

You managed to talk to people who believed the same things you did. People who wanted to put the world right. Your convosations were limited to online and the times you knew you wouldn't be discovered. Then it was rare meetings. Then covert operations. But those things didn't make a difference. You needed to do more. However you couldn't do that while you were an Avenger. They wouldn't understand you. They would try to stop you. So you left.

You loved Carol. That was the hardest thing about leaving. You never wanted to hurt her, only protect her. You convinced yourself that was the ultimate way to protect her, to do what you needed to.

That night you held her close to you as she slept. She knew something was wrong because of that. In growing distant it was a rare act of affection that you had always felt for her and always would. She asked you to talk to her, begged you to tell her what had been consuming every inch of your mind. You never did. You held her until you were certain she was asleep, then you held her some more.

Then you left and never returned. The next time she saw you was on the news. You had broken wrong convicted inmates out of prison. You and a large group. It was the first of many attacks.

Every single one she missed. So did the Avengers. Everything was planned so precisely your operations were done and you were long gone by the time the Avengers showed up. It was hard to catch someone who knew how they worked.

Carol always told herself she would be able to talk you out of it, even when the attacks got worse. Things progressed rapidly and the whole world was there to watch it.

Buildings were set aflame and destroyed. The people you wanted gone from the world were killed without mercy or trial. You assigned yourself the role of judge, jury and executioner with no one stopping you. The group you worked closely with encouraged it all, respected it. Even when innocent people got hurt.

Without even knowing it, you became one of the people you had once sworn to protect the world from.

By the time Carol finally found you it was too late. You weren't the person she once knew. And yet Carol still looked in your eyes and saw the woman she loved, even if no one else recognised you.

Your final operation had been an overall success, but your escape had been delayed. Hence bringing you face to face with Captain Marvel herself.

"Y/n." She whispered, calling to you like an abandoned puppy. You narrowed your eyes at Carol, knowing she wasn't just going to let you go and say 'keep up the good work'. No. You would have to fight your way out.

There was a few feet between you. You were in a now abandoned warehouse alone, only the distant sound of sirens somewhere else, chasing down anyone from your group that remained.

"This isn't you." Carol continued. You still didn't speak. "Please y/n, people are getting hurt."

"Only what's necessary." You finally said, eyes flicking to to the doors behind Carol.

"Innocent people." Carol pleaded, her eyes widening. She may have been in her suit, but Carol didn't show any signs of fighting you anytime soon. Her stance wasn't defensive, it was cautious.

"I need you to get out of my way." You had never wanted to say something in such a cold tone to Carol. You still loved her, she just didn't understand.

"The others wanted to take a different approach to this...to you. Just corporate and and I'll make everything okay." So they wanted you dead, you guessed it would get to that point eventually.

"You can't fix this." You said defiantly. Did Carol really expect people to eventually welcome you back with open arms?

"I'm not going to give up on you. Ever."

"Get out of my way." You said firmly, not wanting to continue the convosation any longer.

"I don't want to fight you." Carol protested, still not becoming defensive. Her voice sounded like it was on the verge of breaking, you tried to ignore that. It was hard.

You took a testing step forward. Still nothing from Carol.

"Please don't make me." She pleaded.

"I'm not making you do anything. Let me walk away."

"You know I can't do that."

You decided you wouldn't wait around any longer, every moment you talked to Carol pulled on your heart strings. You couldn't let that weaken you.

You ran at Carol and jumped into the air a couple of meters to drive yourself down. Carol caught your attempted attack and pushed you back firmly, still giving you a hopeful look.

"Stop." She attempted, but you came back at her from another angle to try and swipe her off her feet which she was able to dodge swiftly.

"Get out of my way." You grunted, quickly growing frustrated.

"I can't." You ran directly on this time and delivered several short and powerful blows that Carol struggled to avoid. You kept going, trying punch after punch after every short range attack Natasha had taught you that was driving Carol back towards the door.

"Stop!" She tried again, sounding more desperate this time. Even when your attacks came dangerously close to being successful Carol refused to use her powers. You could handle them to some extent, the serum could tolerate some of it's force. But Carol refused to do it.

You finally landed a kick to her stomach that made her stumble back a few paces. You pushed aside the feeling of guilt and instead made a break for the door, using every bit of self control you had not to look back at those brown eyes.

Carol had been dazed and didn't realise until you were too close to the exit. She could have stopped you if she used her powers. It would have been efficient and easy. You thought she did.

An indescribable feeling of pain shot up through your back for a mere second but was enough to make you fall straight to the floor. Your back stung as though you had been attacked by a sworm of bees and made your whole body feel suddenly very fragile, like it was only made of thin needles. Your whole body was shaking as you tried to comprehend what had happened.

Carol's powers didn't do that. You knew something else that did.

Natasha? Had you just been on the recieving end of a widow bite? You could faintly hear steady footsteps approaching you that made you sure you were right.

You breathed in deeply and tried to get to your feet, reminding yourself exactly what would happen of you were caught.

I will not be put in a cage. You hissed internally.

You were barely on your knees when you gave a strangled cry at the feeling returning with more power. You fell down onto your stomach again and tried to reach around to get the device off but you were faced with the terrifying realisation that you couldn't move. Natasha had told you all about that widow bite. It meant she had used the highest setting on you. It would have killed anyone who didn't have that super soldier serum.

"Stop!" Carol shouted again, except this time it clearly wasn't at you. "That's enough."

The blonde kneeled down at your side and instantly brought you close to her, cradling your head in her lap as she combed her soft fingers through your hair in the comforting way you remembered so clearly and missed. A tear finally fell down her cheek as she watched you gasping, eyes wide.

Carol was all you could feel and focus on as you slowly lost consciousness. No matter how much of a fight you tried to put up you couldn't move an inch of your body and you couldn't run from the looming darkness that was gradually gaining on you.

You dreaded where you were going to end up. What would happen to your group. Mostly, you dreaded the impact it would have on the blonde you once planned to spend the rest of your life with.

"It wasn't meant to go like this." Was the last thing you heard as the darkness enveloped you entirely.

[jjungkooksthighs]

Claws of Carnality | jjk (7)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au 

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary:  When you and your alpha rivetingly reunite for the Offering Ceremony, you are thoroughly twitterpated in his display of intent to you that colors your entire being with affection for him, but you will soon find that he isn’t the only one that has his sights set on you...

Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of blood, mentions of a mark, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scenting, mating rituals and hunting 

A/N: What a ride this chapter has been. From the many drafts I had of the original version that went through various reworks before I initially posted and then onto the deletion of that from Tumblr only for an alternate version to be made in my efforts to better guide understanding of the story, this chapter has started from one destination and landed somewhere across the other side of the world. 

I hope that this version is easier to digest after the heaviness of the original and much work has been done to ensure that. All feedback that was given to me on the previous rendition of this chapter was greatly appreciated even if some of it hurt, so those who reached out, I thank you. I hope that you all will continue to let me know what your thoughts are as I thrive on comments and feedback that show to me what you guys really think about my work. Please make me a happy author and share your feedback with me on this revised version that I made just for you guys! 

Also, you will notice the gif I used this time is different. That is because that look is what Jungkook has somewhere in this chapter (because lbr here I am a slut for Black Swan Jungkook). There might additionally be an insert that looks somewhat familiar to something we have all screamed over, so that will be interesting to see if anyone catches what it is. 

For my readers that enjoy auditory stimulus while they read, I wrote this chapter entirely to Jungkook’s “My Time” and I implore you to listen to that while you read because it really sets the mood and perspective I had in the sentiments that I wanted to convey for this part (not to mention I fucking love that song like a child adores their favorite toy). You may find while listening that a certain part resonates especially deep with it. Bonus points to anyone that catches the special allusion! 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 8 Part 9

Suffering in silence amid the agonizing absence of your alpha, every second spent without him is dragged on by cruel hands of time that languidly pass with lethargy in the wake of the sun’s slumber.

 Despite the powerful paroxysms that wrack every fiber of your being, your heart paddles agog with anticipation while you wait anxiously for your alpha as your irises sweep like a whirlwind through the woodland in the distance in their frantic frenzy to find under their storm the bringer of the tempest of emotions that rain over you.

 The knoll erected just before the greenwood is certainly an insolent impediment that blocks and bars your sights from penetrating pervasively into the forest’s opening as you whimper in the damned denial of your mate.

 You hardly notice the profoundly proliferating mound of quarry in front of you that the same beta tugs and tows from the forest in an accumulating aggregation that far surpasses the small, sad excuses for the other piles of game that other betas pull from the forest in their lugging of the conquered prey of each alpha that they serve.

 The name of this particular one drifts away from your comprehension in the turbulent gusts that your alpha spews over you even in your separation that cloud your mind of all but him.

 By now, the sun has lain itself to sleep below the horizon and, in its place, the moon has awoken augustly from her own chamber to seat herself atop her throne at the sky’s crest. This night, she is tainted red with the crimson of the lifeblood within all creatures under her care in a rare occurrence that is otherwise known as the Blood Moon. 

Occurring only twice a year among the winter and summer solstices, the striking shade is symbolic of the wild impulses that drive all living beings and even the stars pulse like veins through the sky’s soma in their own frenzied palpitations.

 The moon’s subjects of omegas, alphas and betas all throng tightly together in clusters behind the garden of newly presented omegas that have blossomed with maturity, the cheerful chattering of all the wolves of your pack blooming around you in the warmth of excitement that spouts from them like water. You are rooted like a flower to the ground amidst the field of other omegas that have recently presented, your limbs planted there by the elder who had brought you from the woods.

 It had been an onerous omission on your part to abstain from hissing at her when her bony, knuckled hands had grasped your arms in the utter dissatisfaction that had erupted like a volcano within you in the urge to tear her off of you in the lack of heat that her touch- which had been so definitively and determinately not your alpha’s- had been incapable of warming you with.

 It had been so unlike what your alpha easily instilled upon you in his calefaction that rolled off of him in waves and, in wanting only your alpha’s hands on you, you’d had to bite down on your tongue to keep from releasing the noise of dismayed dissatisfaction and risk being begrudgingly berated for an unruly display.

 Once she’d ambled away, it was your secret that you’d pulled the furs your alpha had given you closer around you to bask in his scintillating scent, the pelt closing comfortingly around you to offer you some much needed incalescence while some, but not all, of the tension pressing down on your shoulders had lifts away.

 Niva, who stood behind you, had giggled as she asked, “Are you that gone for him, darling?”

 Your cheeks had reddened in embarrassment before you’d looked back at her to quietly mumble, “I am. Irrevocably and unequivocally.”

 You watch with bated breath as alphas begin to ascend from over the hilltop that stands to attention just before the woodland as you all but tremble in anticipation to find your own among them.

 They are all cleaned of the blood, sweat and tears from the prey they slayed and most are dressed in exorbitantly expensive threads that have likely never before been worn before today. 

They are donned under furs from which the alphas acquired in hunts years past in the aged, tanned colors of them all that are draped over each wolf’s shoulders as they come to stand in front of their designated deposit of game they have proudly procured in effort to offer it to their desired partner amidst the line of omegas that have been arranged opposite of them.

 It is tradition that the sins of death be wiped away from them before an omega's virtues of life can fully cleanse the alpha that would receive them.

 Incurring impatience is what has you whine out for your alpha that still evasively eludes your visage as you searchingly seek him while your wolf cries for the only one that could possibly quiet it as a familiar figure separates from the amalgamation of agglomerated elders that have accumulated along the west and east sides of the stage before she takes her place on the beamed boards that circularly coalesce into the timbered stage.

 Amidst the jovial jabber that percolates through the air, the lead elder, who is also your grandmother, raises her hands over her head so that the moonlight drips down onto her upturned palms as she shouts, “Children! Tonight, we commemorate the adulthood that our blessed mother of the moon has acknowledged in these youth before you,” the lead elder lowers both arms to gesture to you as fondness showers over her before she softens, “And among them is my beloved grandchild, Y/N, who hails from the purest of bloodlines and who has been the sole caretaker of our pups and livestock in her dutiful and devout service to her pack since her very juvenility. Let us commend both her and those she was raised alongside in this momentous moment!”

 There is a thunderous applause that bursts roaringly around you as exhilaration energizes you anew whilst every wolf in attendance animatedly hoots and claps with a delighted dynamism that has you smiling happily as the sounds bound through you with the liveliness of a sprite.  

 It leaps through you ceaselessly and when you breathe in to give it more room to prance around within you, that’s when your lips lift in gratified gaiety in the unmistakable undeniability of the scent of myrrh that skirrs insatiably forth until it has found and enveloped you in its mighty musk as you sigh with satisfaction at the realization as it wantonly wafts around you.

Jungkook, your precious mate, must be close by.

 The knowledge has your heart skipping a beat as your wolf bays amidst the kindles of joy that light themselves within you in the rapid recognition of the presence of your other half somewhere in the distance.

In the cesspool of odors of all the other wolves that odiously stink and reek through winds around you, it is a taxing task to attempt to locate the origin of the aroma you have come to adore ardently.

All you can do is readily revel in the piquantly pungent incense that incites your baser being with inclination to rejoin with its mate and to find solace in the euphoric utopia of his waiting arms once more.

 Some of the lead elder’s words are lost to you amongst your alpha’s essence that wraps willfully around you in a brume that brushes eagerly against you while the ovation that, somewhere along the way, has gradually quieted while the last of the alphas have found their allocated allotment next to their corresponding heaps of seized, slain prey.

They are organized according to rank with the first place that heads the row of alphas belonging to the wolf boasting the highest station amongst his dynamic as their chief in charge of them all through the title afforded to him through his strength, power and bloodline.

 Such were no match for any other alpha that had been unwise and unfortunate enough to face and bear the brunt of his sharp claws in battle that ended in loss to any that opposed him as the rightful pack alpha.

 It is Jungkook’s locus at the vertex of the line that is empty and while the sight should distill doubt’s inklings within you, your alpha’s reassuring redolence is there to caress you in the swathing surety that he’s near. In your endeavored expenditure to catch a glimpse of Jungkook, you fail to detect that there is not one desolate domain that is devoid of an alpha in front of you, but four.   

 Still, you’re hardly at the liberty to discern that within the olfactive haze of your alpha’s pheromones that effervescently enfold you in their pleasing particles.

 When your irises chase the lingering trace of him that is everywhere and nowhere at once to no avail yet again, you pout and, in the distance, a pair of golden eyes glint with mirth at the spectacle of you that is so incredibly and charmingly cherubic to their beholder.

 A knowing expression momentarily crossing the lead elder’s face, your grandmother steps back before smiling fondly at you before her eyes carry their focus across the line of omegas that have been bestrewn along the grasses to your right before returning to you as she proclaims, “My dear grandchild, I welcome you and your fellow omegeans to the maturity that the wolves within you have flourished so beautifully with. May the most worthy of alphas earn you this night under the approving nod of our maternal moon that shall watch us from above,” she gives a revering salute to the celestial body above as she crosses her fingers over her heart in a spherical motion before bowing and when she stands once more, she trumpets, “With that, let us begin the Offering Ceremony!”

Upon her final words, she hobbles haltingly back down the wooden stairs connected to one side of the stage with some aid from the other elders in the age that has stolen away the strength of her feeble, frail ligaments as another round of applause fiercely flies through the land on the wings of the air that carry it as good-natured gossip joins it.

 The stage is emptied but for a moment before an alpha emerges from the arched lumbered and logged mouth opening onto the platform, the tongue of timbered planks spanning outward in a circlet as the wolf takes his starting position for his celebratory dance before a flurry of flutes cast their music from the forelimbs of the wooden body under the deft fingers of the pack’s musicians.

You do not recognize this wolf and it takes only a second for your attention to sway elsewhere as your alpha’s scent draws you back to him when its mists cling in their sedulous sumptuousness to you.

 It is tradition that all ceremonies and events initiate with performances meant to embody the heart of the occasion. Through their artistically aesthetic displays, tangible forms are given to the impalpable sentiments that the pack amasses in its harnessing  of sensibilities toward such a jovial jamboree in the dances that are done to reflect those avid attitudes of each wolf imbued innately with such enthusiasm.

 Following this, alphas are the first to proffer a present to their desired partners in declaring and dedicating the winnings of their hunt to their chosen omega. In exchange for the bounty, the omega then gives something of their own to their alpha as a symbol of intent to be paired exclusively with each other.

 If there are offerings that exceed those of a single alpha for one omega, challenges or duels can be instigated and thusly proctored in official matches in their efforts to win an omega.

Such battles end either through submission or when one wolf is left incapacitated in the incapability to rise from the ground through the wounds that always leave their bodies in tatters through the violent nature of the fight for a mate.

The losing combatant forfeits their rights to claim an omega if they are bested by their opponent and the omega is not given a choice to accept the victor even if the alpha that wins them is not the one they had hoped to have, for it is a rule that the superior wolf who dominates another and exhibits that they are the more capable provider to the entire compound is the worthier being in their ability to protect their omega.

Following this, an intended pair of wolves each bestow matching marks that they paint onto each other in the blood of the strongest, most fearsome prey that an alpha robbed of its life in the honor of their omega.

 After that, they are free to depart to a den the alpha is to have carefully crafted in preparation of his mate where the two are then meant to consummate their bond that will seal them together forevermore, for the brand of tooth marks that the two leave on each other through the throes of rapturous ecstasy would bind them to one other until the end of their days in the ultimate deed of giving themselves to each other through such an intimate act.

 Daedal devotion linked the delicate affairs of courtship that you had always thought was so romantic and you can’t help the thrilling sensation that cascades over you at the prospect of what is to come alongside a particular alpha that has captured your mind and soul in his very palm.

 His scent swirls enticingly around you as your irises, once again, flick along the endless expanse of the forest beyond while you squint as if that would help you to better see into the greenhood that grasps him away from you. Try as you might, you still cannot glimpse the apple of your eye from the fanning ferns careening from the underbrush as you whine once more in his hedging of you.

As his tang drapes itself over you, it stirs in its insistence his voice that echoes through your mind to remind you, “I will return for you and when I do, I will make you mine forever.”

 Your anxiety is quieted in his quintessence that settles like a blanket over you to warm you in his stead as you continue to scour scrupulously around you for any smidgen of him that might deliver you to the truth of his whereabouts, your focus narrowed now in the thin beam of light that luminates your mind only with the purpose of finding him.

 Lost in your fossicking forage for him as you are, the first wolf that had arrived on the stage is replaced by another and after that, two more.

 By the time that six have gone, you’re no closer to illuminating your vision with his candescent luster as you peer longingly at the vacant spot that parallels your own where your alpha should be standing as yearning pulls at your heartstrings in his devastating absenteeism as you tug his pelt tighter over you.

 When the yakking and chatting of the wolves behind you is blown out like a candle in the current that sweeps them through in awed astonishment at the same instant that the pheromones lacing over you thicken in headiness in their willful wiles, that’s when your irises are whisked away, lured as they are to the baited source of it all.

 Your breath hitches when golden eyes pierce your own, fiery fervor flashing in them amidst the ferocious flames that lick hungrily at him from all directions in their passionate parchedness to welcome him into their warmth.

 His irises rove ravenously over you, heat coiling low within you as your wolf preens at the attention while you do the same.  

 Covered in the color of soot, Jungkook’s lower half is ashen with cindered linen that clutches with cohere to him in every slew of thew cording his legs. Adorning his middle is a blackened buckskin belt that bears a perfect hourglass shaped waist and already your salivary glands are fructuously fertile in their gushing of spittle within your jaw that drops when you drink in the overtly obscene shirt that is provocatively provoking in its transparency that elicits the subsequent swoons of omegas around you. 

It leaves nothing to the imagination and, like a second skin, vaunts every delicious dip and ridge of his mouth-watering musculature.

 It is decorated with patterned patches in the shapes of burned brambles that are woven across the material meant to inspire illicit impurities in all that are fortuitously fortunate enough to behold your alpha in how it sinfully sticks to him. Encircling his neck like a thick collar, the shirt bands around him and over it, a blazoned blazer engulfs him. Like it has been seared through by fire, it is open to reveal his clothed chest in its entirety.

Tendrils of dark hair fall over his face in dangerous, wild wisps that curl amidst the humidity that overtly obsess over them.

 You can hardly contain your own ire of want that simmers through you at the sight all of that and, when you trail your visage back up to his eyes, they are brightened with amusement while he dares to flick a sculpted brow as if to tease, “Like what you see?”

 You lick your lips as a whimper traitorously escapes you while a wolfish grin lifts at his own before the symphony of flutes and lutes harmonize in the opening notes of their song and they sing soulfully for a few meters.

 When your alpha begins his damning dance to the thrumming tempo of the waiata whispering through his ears, you already know you’re going to fall even more for him in an impossibly irredeemable descent that you have no wish to ascend away from.

 Your alpha sidles forward with purpose pervading his slow movement, his irises burning torridly into your own with the finer feeling that fully fulgurates them before he spins on one foot while the chords of both instruments twirl together with him as he whirls around to face you once more.

 The melodic music is, like your alpha, insistent in its eagerness to call commandingly to you in the way that its trill lowers and soon deepens with the same tantalizing temptation into his darkness that captivates you to him in your pure light.

 In his meticulous motion, his fingers close around the end of his jacket that he’d caught in an open palm upon completion of his turn only to strum his fingers through the air with the other hand as if he were stroking the strings of an invisible lute between his arms.

 He draws his free hand backward before smoothly and flowingly sweeping it forward only to then arc it behind him in a circular kinesis, his chin following his hand like it is tied around his wrist by twine. He repeats this once more, his eyes never straying from yours in the heated intensity that warms your very being as he stares only at you the entire time.

 Like a match being struck in various vertices over him, every movement sparks the flinted flicker of white that births from it the embers of an inferno amidst the small moonstones that have been adroitly added over his blazer.

 When he steps forward to be bathed by the scarlet rays of the moon that color him in the passion that he dances with, that’s when he vocalizes the sentiments for you that move him in a lyrical lilt that is in sound synchronicity with the instrumental tune he’d written himself.

 As he takes in the way that you melt under the smoldering charcoal of affection for him, he can’t help the words that fall freer than rain on a spring day as he allows his emotions for you to pour out of him while you thaw him with your own rays of radiance that glisten in your eyes and in the way that you fondly look on at him like he’s the only one that exists in your world.

 His baser being demands that he show to you what you mean to him and so he does.

 He sings how rapidly his life had gone by and how lonely with lorn he’d been in his wait for his mate in the incertitude of whether he’d been correct in his way of living without you while his arm lifts so his fingers point toward the sky that, through its unstopping hands, had turned the cogs of time.

 “Oh, I think I was in yesterday ‘cause everybody walk too fast, don’t know what to do with, am I livin' this right?”

 He chants to you about the time that had been stolen sufferingly away from you both in your childhood and adolescence that had barred you both from each other in the forbidding rules of the compound that outlawed with onus your unavoidable union.

 “Why am I alone in a different time and space? Oh I can't call ya, I can't hol' ya, Oh I can't…”

 He proclaims the struggling strife that had wracked him in being forced to remain apart from you for so unbearably long in his cover behind the trees while he’d watched over you as his soul had cried for the only one that could complete it in the days he’d spent following the orders of his father.

 “Sometimes when I’m gasping for air, I wear my hat low and keep running, yeah, I don't know where I go, even if it's opposite of sun…”

 He chronicles with vivid verve the verdict that he has brimmed blisteringly with in your brilliance that shines as bright as the stars above while he pumps his closed fist gently against the heart that thumps only for you as he continues, his hand dragging through the hair you’d pulled on in effort to induce his mercy in the wood before he runs his other palm along the thigh he’d watched you so beautifully pleasure yourself on while he’d been blessed with the view of your damned delight atop of him.

 “One time for the present and two time for the past, I’m happy that we met each other now til' the very end…”

 He declares to you that you are, after so long, the Eve that he will always escape into the verboten oasis to find as he jumps high in the sky, his spirits soaring for you as he watches you reach dotingly for him before he lands to extend a hand of his own to you before spinning in a circle like a clock to once more face you.

 “Oh, I will call ya, I will hol' ya, oh I will and yes you know, oh yes you know that I will...”

 Enraptured in ardency’s hold over you, Jungkook’s gleaming gold irises are streaked so profoundly with earnest elan that, as they sink into the riveting depths of your own, they scintillate with silver like the genial moon that you are to him as it washes over his eyes the farther that he descends into your deep devoutness that floods you for him.

 In the irrefutable irrepressibility of your own sentiments for him, your own eyes dye themselves gold like the sun that is your alpha to you.

 His dulcet words phosphoresce the burgeoning seedlings of affectionate attachment to him as he nears you along the lip of the stage that is speckled with candles that cast their light over him like sunbeams themselves that, through their heated kisses, leave him shimmering in an ethereal golden glow that radiates out into the night that has befallen you. 

You do not know if a more mellifluous voice exists in the world than his own with the way the chords of your own heart are struck with each soulful solfege that is uniquely and undeniably him as his eyes seek nothing but you, who has brought so much lustrous light to his sky.

 Neither of you pay any mind to the collective series of shocked gasps or astonished huffs that are emitted from the converged crowd behind you.

 In the stuttered stupefaction that fastens itself to them like moss to a tree, all eyes are on you and your alpha that take notice only of only each other amidst the mutated metamorphosis that had transfigured the irises of both of you to match those of the other through the gift of sight that marks two soulmates in their belonging to one another.

 Such an ocular occurrence had not been recorded for over seven thousand years in the rare paucity that the moon granted with the declining diminishment of purebreds descended from the lupi antiquis.

 Thus, in the episodical exceptions where the celestial body did bestow such an innately intimate connection between two wolves, it was said that their zealous zest for each other would guide them in their reigned rule over the other wolves that would bring prosperity and peace for generations to come under the moon’s favor.

 Yet, under the music’s metrical melody, its sonorous spell casts a coddling cocoon over you and your mate until the silken thrum hums around only the two of you as its fibered filaments shield everything but the both of you from each other’s vision.

 Your mate’s vociferous voice fades after the chanted crescendos ravel into decrescendos until the collection of euphonious sounds wrap wholly and completely around you as his body moves with the beat of the organ that pumps only for you within him.  

He plants both feet to the floor before a hand trails down his body in a vinelike display while one leg is uprooted off the wood beneath him to swing in front and behind him as if he’s embedded into it and can’t bear to relinquish himself from the earth that grounds and supports him like you do.  

 Like the celestial bodies whose hands that turn time, he easily epitomizes this when he steps forward, his arms turning in a spherical motion akin to that of sun’s path through the realm above during the days it brings before the moon journey in her brother’s stead as the siblings of the sky steal away the lost moments that had been wracked away from you both amid their ceaseless passing.

 His wrist then flicks outward as if he’s trying to halt the spindles of a chronometer from ticking precious time away from him as his irises flare frenetically into your own with the fervor that flecks them.

 You whine for him as he moves, his fervent feeling made so precisely palpable with the way his shoulders roll in circles along with the crux of the heart sitting in his chest that hastens its already quickened pace as he glimpses the tender smile lifting along your lips.

It sets his very soul afire with contentedness before one and then the other hand pounds against each pectoral only to then sweep upward to tangle through his hair as his legs splay outward so that each thigh bulges boastfully against the fabric while his wolf howls when he hears you suck in a breath.

 It is one that sputters with a stammer from your lips in the emotion he’s nurtured inside you and drawn forth from the deepest recesses of your body that wails needily for him, your wolf baying with want to be closer, nearer and together.

 The sound you make lathers itself like honey over his ears and he’s sure he’ll never tire of that with how breathlessly bewildered you had seemed all because of him.

 He’s swiftly besieged by his baser being to show to you how much you affect him and to display to you what you do to him in his deep-seated desire for you and, never one to bypass his urges, he does not cage it.

 Once his hands have streamed through his luscious locks, he trickles them over his face, irises still settled along the substrate of your own as his fingers drag downward to collect the lapels of his blazer before, in one fluid motion, he sheds it from his shoulders as a loud whimper dribbles from you while you absorb attentively the salacious sight before you.

 His hair has fallen crazedly over one eye in curved, thick tufts as an iridescent iris dappled in the chroma of the orbs that oscillate through the sky during the night and day. Through his continued movements, the mingled union of a silver and gold buries itself as deeply as it can within your depths as the offending piece of clothing trails lower until it pools at his wrists.

With a devastating grin, he puffs out his chest with proud pride, a sheen of sweat shining under the thin material amongst dark, dusky nipples that nip against it in protest of its tautness that chafes against them.

 Instantly, your legs are rubbing against each other without your mind’s notice as he smirks when your essence that is spawned by your sex spumes over you before its titillating tinge rises in the air to collect under his nostrils.

 Your rousing spice seasons every recess of his body in the relish that causes his pupils to dilate in craving, his member growing hard within his trousers for you as he pulls his lip between his teeth with a growl before gyrating around and when your irises meet once again, he pivots to the side at the same time his fist opens and closes while he outstretches a hand for you.

 Your limbs are slowly sapped of their strength with each measured movement that he makes and when he runs toward you until he’s dangerously close to the edge of the stage, you think he might reduce you to a puddle on the ground beneath him when his hand returns to the corpulent collection of muscles cording the crus of his leg as he whisks one palm along his thigh while he rotates his ankle inward to have every tendon jump in a torturously teasing sight while his free fingers curl inward before him as he repeats it all with the other.

 Saliva pools in your mouth as he sleekly and confidently moves with the impressively intricate series of footwork that he glides impossibly closer to you with and with one final twirl and fatal arch of a brow, he shirks the blazer off him entirely while his ligaments lower him down to one knee in sharp, quick movements that have his chest caving in and out while he descends, his head tipping back to bare a neck sluiced with sweat in a sight that has you drooling in want to touch and feel him against you once again.

 Jungkook leers longingly at you when he slides forth onto his other leg with one bent underneath him while the other is jutted out like the perfect throne that you’d gladly fall to your knees for.

 He looks like a god that you would readily worship and yet, he dances like a demon.

 It is with a lethal dark flash of his eyes that he snaps the fingers of one hand to the final strum of the lute while the other trails damningly along his chiseled body until it settles over the swelling cock throbbing for you that you whine with the unyielding yearningness that has captured every inhibited iota within you under his command.

 You are utterly enthralled as his lips move to mouth, “All of this was for you, my omega. Now that everyone knows what we are to each other, no one will dare to keep you from me,” he watches with interest the way that your lips part in his effect on you and curses in how far away you are from him as he utters, “Come to me once I’ve gone away from here, pretty. Your alpha requires your presence after being denied of you in the forest. I will be waiting anxiously for you.”

 When he stands to sink into the shadows behind him that the light cannot permeate, your high-pitched warble still has not dissipated.

 You only realize this when a spindly, bony hand is laid over your shoulder to pull you back and away from the pack of wolves around you while the familiar and oldened voice of your grandmother tries to break through to you in the stupor set by your alpha.

 When you don’t respond to the many redundant repetitions of your name, she squeezes your shoulder to throatily call out, “My, my, my… you are besotted with that alpha that names himself Jeon Jungkook, my dearest granddaughter. I hadn’t the foggiest idea before on why he asked me to allow him to dance, but now I see that it was for you.  I suppose that is to be expected, considering everything."

 It is the mention of your alpha that grapples your attention away from where you’d last seen him as you tilt your head in question before you quietly squeak, “I am very taken with him, but what do you mean by that?”

 She laughs, “Grandchild, these eyes may be old, but I saw within you and he the gift of sight that the moon mother above bestowed to you both that, by her blessed design, declares each of you as the other’s soulmate. Even the gift of olfaction was there, for this nose can still smell the taint of sex that he, along with you, produced during his performance.”

 Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn in embarrassment while you stutter, “Grandma, h-he made me do it. I c-couldn’t help it.”

 She only pats your head to say, “It is nothing to be ashamed of, grandchild. The moon chose him for you. It is only natural that you respond to him in such a way. Incidentally, what did he say to you at the end of his dance?”

 Mortification has you worrying at your lip before as you fidget as you shyly whisper, “He asked that I go to him. I believe he wishes for us to have some time alone together before the offering.”

 Your grandmother nods in understanding and instead of finding any trace of dissenting disapproval in her countenance, she encourages, “Then go and join him, my granddaughter. You must be swift, though,” she steps back to gesture to the row of alphas that stand before the stage, “There are only a few performances left before you and he must return for any challengers that may wish to win you from him, though I don’t see how that will be possible as smitten as you appear for that alpha that you call Jungkook.”

 Gratification steeply swills over you as you embrace her, “Thank you, grandmother. We will be quick as the wind, you’ll see.”

 She waves you off as you scurry with hurry beyond her toward the wooden dwelling that houses the elders, for it secondarily serves as the temporary domain of the dancers that begin the performances where they are allowed to change clothes and prepare in the spare rooms that are located along the first floor.

 You do not notice the shift of silhouettes in the distance as you scamper along, your mind swimming in the waters of your alpha that have soused you so.

 It is only when you are scuttling along the steps that lead up into the den that you hear the whistle behind you before it is followed in a voice saturated far too saccharinely with sweetness that has your tongue souring in its wake as it muses, “Damn, Taehyung. You weren’t lying. She really is such a divine little thing.”

 In the hormones heaving through you, they insistently incur your instincts that are stirred with stimulation only for your alpha and in simultaneous sequence, the repellant revulsion of any wolf that is not him in your baser being’s acknowledged acceptance of Jungkook as your mate.

 Your wolf kecks under the miasmatic fumes of malodors that are bitter and acetic as they burn your nostrils, the stench of alphas heavy in the air as you remain in your place with your back to them while you try to stifle the gag that sits low in your throat as you manage, “What do you want with me? Why are you here and who are you?”

 You recognize one as Taehyung’s, but the other is unknown to you.

 There’s a mawkish chortle that bellows, “You do not know of me? You will, omega. Soon enough, you will. All of you omegas eventually do.”

 The words lift the hairs at the base of your neck in the cloying sugariness of them that clump heavily together in their mission to rot your insides as the swish of grass grows louder in the closing distance between you and the stranger that is an obstructing obstacle between you and your alpha.

 The unabating advance does not terminate and when you furtively glance over your shoulder to see a hand inching toward you, you cringe with the trace of a hiss tinting your voice, “Do not touch me. My alpha is very protective of me and will not be merciful if you toy with what is his. Your friend over there,” you flick your chin back toward the source of the foul odor that you know to be Taehyung’s, “he was not so lucky when he felt it just to try to take me from my alpha.”

 The stranger makes a sound of consideration, “Hm, a creature with some bark to her bite. I like that.”

 It’s as though you’re being backed into a corner, your wolf yelping in protest as you try to rein in your emotions that beg you to beseech your alpha that is so close, yet so far away from you right now. If he does not come for you, it is only a matter of time before your claws will come out in defense.

 Fingers stretch toward you and before they can make contact with your skin, you bare your teeth to sibilate, “It seems you do not understand. It was only I that could calm Jungkook- who is bound to me and I to him by the moon above- through the rage that overcame him when he was ready to maim Taehyung for foolish disobedience,” you turn to pierce your perpetrator with a cautionary glare as you forewarn, “The wounds that were left in Taehyung’s shoulder are but minor lesions of what my alpha will scar you with should you dare to incur the wrath of my mate.”

 In a momentary lapse of an instant, you think that you derive in your detection the distinct aromatic attar of your alpha nearby, but it is fleeting as are the contours that are casted of a darkened outline that, so quickly you think it may have been a trick of your eye, briefly block the light filtering past the opaque aperture of aged glass next to the entrance of the den.

They disappearingly depart almost as soon as they arrive with only a sliver of a scent that remains and without a doubt, there is only one wolf it could belong to in its special singularity.

It had been Jungkook, your alpha.

You wish you could be with him and wonder if an elder had gotten to him before you could, but you’re not given long to ruminate on either of those despite the sudden stoutness that is spritzed over you in Jungkook’s oceanic presence that ebbs and flows faithfully alongside you.

 In spite of it all, it is Jimin who stands before you when you look down on him. He is clad in bloodred silks that contrast clashingly with dark smudging around the sides of his eyes while pewter colored hair hangs loosely over his forehead with the oils that must have been used to carefully style it while he cheekily checks you out much to your discontented dismay.

“What you say is of little concern to me, Y/N. I always get what I want and you will be no different,” he says.

You have seen him only a few times before during his performances and had once thought him to be beautiful as a doll, but now you can see where his stitches have become loose in vainness that bursts at his seams.

You take a step back and away from him, your alpha’s presence pouring itself onto you through the remnants of his smell that douse his confidence over you as you cross your arms to chide, “It is a pity your looks have made you so conceited, Jimin. You have become spoiled and ruined by them, it seems,” you harden your gaze at him, “I am not like everyone else and I do not wish to have anything to do with you because I am already promised to Jungkook, who is your pack alpha that you must obey.”

 One side of his lips lift up his irises hoggishly digest you from head to toe as he decides, “It’s precious that you believe any of that is enough to stop me,” he climbs one step slowly before ascending up the other until he is eye level with you, “Spend the limited time together that you can, little omega. It will be over soon enough when I reap you from him and harvest the most fruitful crop this fucking pack has ever had and plow you until you’re bursting with my seed instead of his.”

 Your alpha has never spoken to you with such disregarding disrespect. It irks you with anger that reddens enflamed within you.

 You grimace at that, disgust damningly withering your insides in its blight as you sneer, “Try it, Park Jimin. You will never win against him. When you lose to him like I already am assured that you will,” you lift your chin in defiance, “you’ll regret allowing that minuscule cock of yours to rule over your tiny, pygmy brain.”

 That earns a titter from him as he replies, “What a little spitfire you are. No matter,” he gibs, “I will tame you soon enough.”

 Obstinance consumes you in its angry wildfire as you scoff, “As if you ever could. Good luck with your attempts that shall only end in bitter failure, for I will never be yours. I belong to Jungkook and there is nothing you could do to change that.”

 “That’s where you’re wrong,” Jimin smiles so wide it’s almost nauseating with how much his lips can twist as he backs away with a quip coming from between them, “When he loses to me-“

 “He will not be defeated by the likes of you. This, I know to be true,” you narrow your eyes in certitude’s credence that your blood sings with.

 “If I do not win you, then Taehyung will. Nonetheless, we shall see, little omega. We shall see,” his vexing voice dims in deliquesce as the moonlight regressively recedes while the two prowling wolves remit themselves into the shadows of utter umbra that swallow them from sight.

 You stand for some moments counting contrived breaths hindered by your ire that had smoked and combusted within you to block your airway from effectively expelling the blazing emotion and it is only when your chest no longer aches with the stressed strain to contract that you set in motility once again to make your way into the elder’s den.

It doesn’t take you long to locate your alpha in the perceptible path of pheromones that lead you to him and there is no havering hesitation that stymies its stall of you from opening the oaken door before closing it as it groans in its senile senescence from the effort of such work.

Any negative sentiments that Jimin had left brewing immediately disintegrate within you as you ogle openly how, with his back to you, your alpha damningly divests from his body the shirt made of pure sin in its tempting taunt to you.

He pulls it from his middle slowly and torturously drags it up to reveal skin soaked by the sun and burned by the claws of combat, the serried slew of muscles lining his shoulders swelling savagely in his mannered motion and only when he lets it fall limply on the floor do his eyes find your own through the mirror he ostentatiously oxidizes you through.

Golden irises specked with silver sear into your own as one brow arches up only for him to rumble out, “Enjoy the show, pretty? I know I did.”