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#country brain rot is real
hearthaleydunphy · 18 days
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Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off - OP • 81
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
warnings: drinking?
synopsis: oscar knew exactly what to expect when his girlfriend told him she was going out for margaritas…
a/n: my “cuntry” playlist had taken over my mind. also i love osc. anyways tell me you like this or i will cry
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she said “i’m going out with my girlfriends. Margaritas at the Holiday Inn” - oh, have mercy, my only thought - was tequila makes her clothes fall off
“Hey, I’m heading out,” Y/n said, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek as he sat in bed, scrolling through his phone.
“Hm. What are you guys up to this time?” He asked, softly pressing a kiss to the back of her hand before she could leave him.
“Margaritas,” She said nonchalantly, seeming to forget what happens everytime tequila hits her tongue.
“Well, be safe. Maybe grab an extra layer though,” Oscar Chuckled. Y/n lightly shoved him with a scoff but did, in fact, grab a jacket on her way out.
she’ll start by kicking out of her shoes - lose an earring in her drink - leave her jacket in a bathroom stall - drop a contact down the sink
Y/n grunted as she dropped down into the booth her and her friends had claimed as their own. She was quick to kick her heels off. One margarita and two songs deep and her feet were already killing her.
She was quick to finish off her drink once the heels were off. She place the glass on the table and reached over it to grab something from the other side of the booth, not realizing the backing of her earring had come off and the earring had fallen into the empty glass.
Kika was quick to replenish Y/n’s drink before dragging the girl back to the busy dance floor.
she don’t mean nothing - she’s just having fun - tomorrow she’ll say “oh, what have i done?” - her friends will joke about the stuff she lost - yeah, tequila makes her clothes fall off
As the night continued Y/n only lost more things. Oscar was not shocked when she stumbled into their apartment, her dress the only remaining piece of her outfit. Despite how late it was, he was quick to help her stumble through her night routine.
He knew she’d be confused and disappointed when she woke up the next morning and realizing she left behind her favorite jacket and heels at the club, but Y/n knew the real problem would come from the jokes about that night from her friends and Oscar himself. Right now, that did not matter to her cause she was back in the arms of the man she loved.
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imwritesometimes · 9 months
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when other people in their 30s say they feel lost in their life/don't know what their purpose is/feel nervous abt life: ur gonna be fine babe I ❤️ you and you are fine this world is a hell hole and we are all doing our best you are fine you are valid ❤️
when I try to apply the same things to myself:
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#things are going good! they're great! and I am fine!#I think the worst part of all this is not actually having the ability to control like allllll this shit#like the shit happening in my life very much is also just kinda... happening to everyone.#wages are too low. impossibly low. hustle culture has rotted ppl's brains. healthcare is unattainable for real in this country.#but also like on my own personal end like this is so stupid but#not beingn able to actually write anything is kinda killing me#writing used to be what I'd turn to when I was so overwhelmed with it all#to have fun and decompress and not think abt that shit and how it feels like I'm living through the collapse of an empire#but now like. lmao besties. I opened my laptop last night for the first time in over a week#and besties. friends. countrymen. it did not go well.#I could not make myself focus on that shit for ANYTHING#I have lost 1000% my ability to write. and it fuckin KILLS me. it's KILLING ME. I am being KILLED.#like I sat there and could peck out a couple sentences and then my brain would be like#ok but no do something else now this doesn't sound good this isn't flowing right booo watch reruns#and I KNOW that the answer to this is oh focus anyway baby steps turn off the tv!#but the thing is I cannot write without the tv I can't it's NOT happening for a bevy of reasons#but also no matter how much I tell my brain like ok no focus now#it doesn't happen#do you know how much this is killing me#normally I can force myself to do shit. I forced myself to quit SMOKING.#I hate this shit it is making me severely unwell and insane and unstable and mad and depressed#and obv unhinged look at these tags#erin explains it all
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himemeika · 2 years
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Full offense but ppl who complain about fans giving Ge/nshin characters darker skin tones in the official art are fucking annoying
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ystrike1 · 6 months
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Betrayal of Dignity - By KIMPA (8.5/10)
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Sometimes, bad men make great Kings. This particular Duke is absolutely a yandere, but he's also after the throne. He's also one of the few obsessive male characters I can actually imagine in power. He knows how to plan ahead. He's horrible. She's a good and forthright woman. The drama is killer.
Two sisters.
The pretty pink one and the disabled one.
What do you think their relationship is like?
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You're wrong.
Chloe is disabled, yes, but she is a capable older sister. Her father, servants, and her sister all treat her with respect. Even when those who discriminate do not.
Alice is a romantic girl, with no brains in her skull. She's supposed to save her family from debt by wedding a wealthy Count....but she cheats on him. Her lover impregnates her, and they run away together...happily? Yes, Alice was never cut out for life as a noble wife. Her husband treats her well. They're passionately in love. Chloe loves her too much to force her to do anything. Their father feels the same.
The spoiled, beautiful daughter leaves the picture.
What about the debt?
There's only one child left. Chloe. She is respected in the walls of her mansion, but nowhere else.
No sane man would marry a woman with a crippled leg.
(This setting is painfully realistic. A couple hundred years ago disabled people had little to no rights. Chloe is a rare exception as a noble daughter who is loved and protected by her father.)
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Chloe has no idea, but she does have an admirer.
His name is Duke Daimien Thisse. He fell in love with her three years ago, but she has no clue. He bullied her. He called her naive. Arrogant. He ripped her cane from her hands to show her how weak she was. She naturally assumed he's just another man who dislikes disabled people.
She met the Duke when he was at war. His men camped in her forest, behind her home. She nursed some of his fghters back to health.
Naive Chloe was unaware. As she treated the men they ridiculed her, and they tossed more inappropriate comments on top. They did not deserve her help, but she gave it.
Duke Thisse stole her cane because he was frustrated. He hated watching her care for the boorish men in his army, who whispered behind her back. So, he insulted her to her face to test her true character.
Chloe was too perfect. He suspected she was acting, as an excuse to get close to him and seduce him. He does know about her monetary situation after all.
She rejects him and proves that kindness isn't a weakness. She didn’t know the men were insulting her, but it doesn’t matter to her. They were protecting her country. Her land. She felt obligated to help, as an upstanding noble lady.
Duke Thisse is smitten.
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He does get worse though. This guy is every single red flag. His fascination with Chloe stays a secret. A real one. Nobody knows he loves her. Chloe thinks he's marrying her to weaken his position on purpose, because he wants the Crown Prince to look stronger. She thinks she's a tool and she's half right. Marrying Chloe does give the Duke camouflage. He looks like a loyal dog...but he's been planning this marriage and a rebellion for three years.
Chloe won't be his Duchess.
She will be his Queen.
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Daimien is also the most jealous and vindictive man on earth. He does bully and plot against his own wife when she pays attention to other men. He's un-fucking-unbearable. He threatens to kill her and her family more than once. She thinks it's because of his honor or something but no. He just does that when she mentions another man too many times.
He even throws a hissy fit when she tries to visit her own father.
This handsome servant, Gillies, figures out how twisted the Duke is. He's purely in love with his kind lady, and the persistent hero actually succeeds in exposing the rot.
Chloe finds out how deep the corruption goes far too late.
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Duke Thisse doesn't tell Chloe anything. This mistress??? Fake. She's a royal spy and he feels nothing for her, but he uses this fake lover to torment Chloe. To test her and embarrass her. To see her pure true self once more. Chloe maintains her dignity, even when she must invite said mistress to a tea party.
Duke Thisse uses the death of this fake mistress to trick Chloe into loving him. He frames Chloe. He makes it look like she murdered the other woman out of jealousy, and then he saves her from life in jail.
That "selfless deed" earns her love.
Chloe earnestly lavishes love on the monster that has been tormenting her for years.
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Even the Crown Prince is a pawn.
Duke Thisse needs him to to die at the right time, in the right place.
The mad prince realizes that Daimien married Chloe for love, and he gets more suspicious.
His feelings mess with the plan.
The rebellion will come regardless.
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Romance begins to blossom when the Duke actually says I love you. It's not cheesy. It makes perfect sense. Chloe doesn't want money or promises. She wants to know if he saved her from a murder charge out of love.
(If only she knew)
He says yes.
It would have been so romantic if we, the readers, didn't know what was going on in his head.
By the way they don't consumate their marriage until they confirm their love. The Duke gets some points with that. He only wanted to lay with her if she felt the same way. He avoided all intimacy until that day. Now she does reciprocate....but he's been planting those feelings for almost four years.
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Their love blossoms into something beautiful.
Chloe is pregnant and they all live happily...
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The Crown Prince is a mentally deranged maniac. The people are turning against him.
The Duke wants more than love.
He wants to protect the nation he fought for in war.
He wants power. He wants to be King, and he has chosen a Queen.
Side note he only wants Chloe to have one baby, because he's familiar with the dangers of childbirth. I'll give him points for that one...again. He sucks but he's not the worst husband to have.
They don't live happily ever after.
Duke Thisse has more goals to strive for beyond happiness, and that's awesome. He's not a nice man, but he's obsessive and he's not bland. He's not boring on screen. That's for sure.
Chloe is an extremely cool woman, without superpowers. There is no secret ingredient. She's just a hard worker. One of her legs doesn't freaking work, and she's still more imposing than most.
Lots of people hate this one.
I think they need to read the fine print. Maybe one or two more times. On the surface this is a tale of abuse and manipulation...but remember there's no magic. Chloe never wanted to marry for love. She has no lover waiting for her.
Being the wife of a Duke isn't supposed to be easy. It's extra hard if he's ambitious.
That's conveyed very well.
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eideticallys · 1 year
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If you won't do it, I will.
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: you were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing. and he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.
genre: fluff & angst
word count: 3.7k
author's notes: another tooth-rotting spencer reid fluff because i said so! you can listen to watch you sleep by girl in red & out of my league by fitz and the tantrums while reading this because those were the songs i listened to while writing this and i think they fit really well with this fic. also posted on ao3 (spencereids).
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THAT DARN SUNLIGHT, YOU SHOULD GET YOUR BLINDS FIXED WHEN YOU’RE FREE—THEN IT HITS YOU. You just got it fixed about two weeks ago. You are definitely not in your room.
Scrambling to get up, you were about to jump off whichever bed you ended up in last night when you felt a warm, lithe arm tucked underneath yours, clasping you in a soft embrace like a lover. Now that you think about it, you could feel this person’s hair tickling your chin and their warm breath against your neck.
This is seriously freaking you out. You have no idea who you are cuddling with. Jesus Christ, how many shots did you drink last night? Why would the team let you go home drunk with some guy? 
Gently, you removed the arm wrapped around your waist and slowly pushed away the brunette positioned snugly between your head and shoulder. No way.
The person you are cuddling with is none other than your genius coworker.
Dr. Spencer Reid.
Like any other normal person would do—no person in their right mind would sleep with their coworkers, literally and figuratively—you checked yourself for any presence of clothing. Thank God, you did not completely lose your mind last night and slept with Reid. But it still doesn’t explain why you were wearing his faded Star Trek shirt and one of his pajama pants.
Fucking hell, did he change your clothes for you? You were ready to catch the next plane and disappear at this point.
You were about to start berating yourself for getting into this mess when you noticed how the sunlight made the man beside you look more angelic than usual.
The sun seemed to caress every freckle on his face, the slight pink tinge from the cold morning air, and his hair—although unruly from the tossing and turning during the night—could pass for that of a shampoo model. Pretty.
And his lips.
They looked even more inviting right now, pink and full and parted slightly, as he breathed in and out small puffs of air, finally sleeping soundly following a week of sleepless nights tracking down an unsub. You roamed your eyes once more on his face, starting from his hair and down to where his upper body was covered by an old shirt and the blanket you shared—forgetting your initial dilemma as to how you ended up in bed with your coworker (whom you have a big crush on).
Thank goodness you did not have sex with the one guy you were practically in love with for years. It would be nice to remember every detail of that rendezvous—if that ever happens. You groaned inwardly. This is not the time to fantasize about your coworker, Y/N! You need to get out of bed and out of his house.
But a part of you longs to keep pretending that this is real. That sleeping next to—cuddling, let us be honest—Reid is a usual occurrence. Pursing your lips, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to go back to sleep. Let the future version of you worry about how you will handle waking next to your coworker. Except you could not.
You wished you could tattoo what Reid looked like in the early morning light when he was asleep and without that crease between his brows that seemed to be etched permanently from all the stress of chasing unsubs around the country.
You gotta admit, some days, you yearned for Reid’s eidetic memory. You wished you could have memories of him engraved in your brain that no matter what you do, you could not help it. He would be there. A persistent thought. But then again, you were in too deep with your feelings for the man that you think, even without an eidetic memory, you could definitely recount all your favorite memories with him in a heartbeat.
So, you chose to stay awake.
This is not looking good for you. How else would you explain to someone—your coworker, of all people—who just woke up why you were staring at them while they slept. God, you are down horrendously.
He looked so peaceful like this. Pink cheeks, freckles, and messy hair. He looked so adorable you wished you could pepper his face with kisses and bury your face in his chest. And he is snoring lightly. He is endearing.
You are never getting another chance like this. This will not hurt anyone, right?
Hence, you took in every tiny detail, every freckle, every mole, and every scar you could see. You committed to memory every inch of skin your eyes could reach before the man beside you woke up. You tried to learn by heart what this man looks like when he is untroubled and at peace—what he looks like in the eyes of his future lover when they wake up next to him because that would never be you.
It would never be you.
And that could happen any day now. Reid was bound to find someone who would love him. He was the easiest person to love. He was not a prince charming nor the male lead of a romance novel kind of guy, But he has this boyish charm.
Let us be real. Reid was probably the most uncoordinated guy alive and the most socially awkward person ever. But you were taken by him. The moment he started spewing facts and statistics about anything and everything under the sun, you were done for.
He could talk to you about why worms were called worms and the probability of people dying on their birthdays. And you would listen to him willingly. You were that taken by him. Not to mention, it does not help your case that Reid was probably the prettiest person alive. Well, not literally, but he was that close to being the prettiest person—in your opinion of course.
He had messy, brown curls that looked like they barely experienced the touch of a comb, but you knew they were soft. You knew because every time Reid did something endearing—everything he did was endearing, for you—you always ruffled his hair. This would make him grumble about how he had to fix it again and to which you would reply with a cheeky, You know what a comb is? And Reid would roll his eyes at you.
He had hazel eyes that reminded you of a puppy dog. They were mostly brown with a tinge of green. Most days, it reminded you of being cozy, drinking hot chocolate by the fire. They looked like you were coming home. They always looked like they were pleading for you to stare at them. And you admit you have lost count of the many times Reid had to flick his fingers in front of you with a matching Earth to Y/N and a mini history lesson starting with a Did you know that the history behind that phrase comes from science fiction movies showing people on earth sending messages to people in space?
And Reid always wore the fluffiest cardigans and sweater vests, reminding you of your teddy bear collection at your childhood home. It was crazy how if you saw anyone else in the law enforcement track having the same fashion sense as Reid, you would probably think of them as ridiculous. He wore a pair of black converse sneakers, among other things. For heaven’s sake! Come on! You have to go after seasoned criminals—you at least have to look the part. Right? You have to look imposing and menacing to intimidate them in interrogation rooms. However, the teddy bear look—as you’d like to call it—works so well for Reid. 
What is more, is that Reid fits your ideal type. He is probably the poster boy for it. Ever since you were never into the macho guys and their big muscles. No offense to them because those are their bodies. They look good, but you like your men a little scrawny. You liked lean and really tall men. And Reid is definitely that. He may have failed his fitness test a gazillion times, but the man was in no way, shape, or form, unhealthy. He had the right muscles at the right places and besides, he literally goes after serial killers. He is fit alright.
Lost in your thoughts, you were damn near ogling the man beside you and ended up looking fixedly at his lips. You always thought he had kissable lips, minus the fact that it is probably because you were practically in love with the guy.
You wanted to kiss him so bad it is killing you right now. But in your good conscience, you couldn’t and you wouldn’t. You were completely aware of Reid being a germaphobe, and he has mentioned countless times, kissing is more hygienic than shaking another person’s hand, kissing a sleeping person was out of the books for you. One, the person couldn’t consent because they were unconscious. Two, you were not his lover. Kissing him while he was asleep would be a violation to him. Not to mention, unwelcomed and creepy as hell. Imagine waking up and someone has their lips slobbering your face. Icky!
You were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing.
And he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.
“If you won’t do it, I will.”
You froze in place.
Like a deer caught in the headlights, you rushed to leap out of Reid’s bed—almost toppling over on the floor in an unladylike fashion. You probably would look worse than Reid when he was huffing and puffing during his last fitness test mandated by the bureau.
But before you could jump out and run away from the man beside you, Reid had all but effortlessly pulled you towards him. You ended up burying yourself into his chest face first as you clutched his shirt to break the fall. It is not even 8 am in the morning yet, and you have managed to embarrass yourself enough for your parents to cut off all ties with you. You would rather dig yourself a hole to die in than be here.
Knowing you have nowhere else to escape, you believe it was time to lie on the bed you made. Sluggishly, you pulled your face away from the lean chest you descended on and peeped up at the angelic face you’d been staring at for the past hour with a sheepish smile.
“H-hi, Reid!”
This is just pure torture. Reid probably knew why you looked like an actual tomato with how red you are, at this moment. He is smiling at you like a cat who ate the canary as he suppressed a laugh.
“I didn’t know you had a clumsy side to you, Y/L/N,” Reid snickered.
What?
“What?” You frowned, which made Reid chuckle some more, shaking his head.
“Nothing,” you scrunch your brows as you tilt your head in confusion, “You just seem so formidable on the field and interrogation room. I’d hate to be the one you’re tracking down,” Reid responded.
“Oh, um,” you grinned as you thought of the perfect rib for the man in front of you, “Just because I’m an FBI agent doesn’t mean I can’t be uncoordinated every now and then. I mean, I know plenty of agents who are quite the klutz on the daily,” you peered at him while he gawps in protest.
“Hey!” He argued, scowling at you.
God, he’s endearing.
“I didn’t mention any names,” you chortled, raising your hand in defense, which made him roll his eyes.
You cracked up at his juvenile actions. In turn, Reid smiled in amusement.
God, you can’t believe that you’re laying on a bed beside Reid. With Reid—like it’s an everyday thing. The smiles. The banter. The laughter. This is crazy. You could get used to this. Sleeping next to him and not just next to him—like the ones you have during your cases where you get to be roommates. No, sleeping on one bed, next to each other. Waking up next to each other. Hearing his gruff morning voice.
You could get used to this.
You can’t.
You shouldn’t.
Reid is your friend. A coworker. You shouldn’t be fantasizing about sleeping and waking up next to him, that is unprofessional. Not to mention, you would be breaking one of the golden rules of the bureau. Never fraternize with a fellow agent on the same unit. 
Seemingly lost in thought, you retreated from the man beside you, as you grimaced.
“Y/N? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, Reid,” you smiled glumly, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” you patted his cheek gently.
“Is this about you waking up in my bed? I swear no—”
“I know, Reid,” you sighed, “You would never hurt me. I was drunk last night. I’m sure you brought me here because you were too tired to take me home. We just got back from a case and I shouldn’t have drank a lot of shots after all the sleepless nights,” you were slowly sitting up now, “But thank you, Reid. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Always, Y/N.”
This made you smile.
Trust Reid to always make your heart flutter at the tiniest gestures. He’s probably the most genuine and compassionate person you know. It breaks your heart every time you remember that his actions might make you feel butterflies in your stomach, but he does them not because he sees you romantically—he just does them because that is just how he is—caring.
“I’m gonna get up now,” you muttered.
“So, that’s it?”
This made you pause.
“What do you mean?” You looked at him, to which he scoffed.
“You know what I mean, Y/N.”
“No, I really don’t, Reid,” you scowled, growing irritated at this whole situation, his riddles, and him, for being so perfect, “So, you better tell me because you scoffing at me is slowly infuriating me.”
“You spent an hour, eighteen minutes, and thirty-eight seconds watching me sleep,” Reid shared as matter-of-factly, as if to say "You aren’t slick, Y/N, " which made you sputter in indignation. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Reid would be considered by the Guinness World Records as the first omniscient person on earth with his brilliant mind. The man has an IQ of 187 for Pete’s sake!
“If that doesn’t tell you anything, then I don’t know what will,” he finished.
“First of all,” you started, “I did not watch you sleep.”
This made the man raise one brow at you. Liar.
“Second of all, if I did watch you sleep and you felt it,” you continued pointedly as if to tell Reid you weren’t watching him sleep. “Shouldn’t you have called me out on it? Why did you let me be then?” 
“I don’t know. Okay?”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” You pushed, crossing your arms.
“I woke up just a few minutes after I felt your stare,” Reid began rambling, “Did you know the reason why we feel someone is looking directly at us is that we have this system called the gaze detection system? I woke up a few minutes after I felt you staring.”
You smiled fondly at the man prattling facts from the back of his brain. This was your favorite version of Reid. The one who knows anything and everything under the sun and can probably talk about them if you asked him to. But right now, you have had enough of that. You won’t allow him to distract his adorable babbling from knowing why he let you stare at him.
Maybe he shares the same feelings with you.
“Reid,” you exhaled, “that still doesn’t explain why you let me watch you sleep.”
This made the man’s cheeks start dusting with pink. You were aware of the fact that it should have been the questioning done the other way around. You literally breached his privacy in his own home but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to know if he feels the same way as you. You wanted to know everything now rather than later. You know you’d probably get rejected but you wanted to get it over with.
“I wanted you to kiss me.”
This made you gasp, eyes widening—you think they were about to come out of their sockets. Reid blushed some more with your shocked expression. 
“I didn’t know what to do,” he continued explaining, “so I pretended to be asleep but I wanted you to kiss me. I thought that you would kiss me but you didn’t. So, I waited.” He looked down at his lap and bit his lip.
With your initial shock wearing off, you practically looked like a wild animal pouncing on the bed. Reid yelped at how quick you moved from where you originally stayed put. Without further ado, you reached for him. Thumbs caressing his rosy cheeks, you stared at his hazel irises.
“Are you sure about this?” You asked gently, wanting to be sure that he wants this just as much as you do. Before you could say anything else, Reid pressed his lips against yours.
As soon as you felt his lips against yours, your eyes closed. His lips were warm and soft—a little chapped but you didn’t mind. It feels perfect against yours. You didn’t want this to end but you want to see him—feel more of him. So, you did. You buried one of your hands in his curls as you caressed his chiseled jaw. Warmth blossomed in your chest as you realized you were kissing the guy you’d been pining for years and he is kissing you back.
You could taste your shared breath and feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks. He tilted his head slightly in the opposite direction and nudged his nose against yours as your lips parted slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.
You wanted to open your eyes. You wanted to see the faint constellations on his face, admire the slight scrunch of his brows when he’s focused—you had a feeling after this kiss is over, being with him won’t be as easy as it was before. You would be ruined knowing what it was like to kiss him. But you were so tired of longing for him. And his mouth was the softest mouth you have ever kissed. And nobody has ever kissed you like this before—loving and warm.
You didn’t stop kissing Reid until you felt like you were running out of air from running. So, you held his shoulders and distanced your face from his. He tried chasing your lips but you dodged him. Instead, you looked down at your lap. You felt your tears and willed them to not fall. Not here, not now, not in front of him. You wouldn’t want him to pity you.
“Hey, Y/N,” Reid placed his warm hand against yours, “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” His thumb caressed your hand soothingly.
“That’s the thing, Reid,” you explained, looking up at him right now as he flinched, noting the tears glistening in your eyes, “Nothing’s wrong. The kiss was perfect. You’re perfect.” You could see his shoulders sagging in relief after what you said. “And because of that, I can’t just pretend that what happened was normal because it isn’t. I know it won’t happen again so I can’t get used to it. And you know I’m not the type to kiss someone unless they mean that much to me.”
You were about to explain some more when you felt Reid pull you. You gulped when you felt the tickle of his breath in the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I really like you, Y/N. If it isn’t obvious,” Reid muttered shyly, “I’ve liked you for quite some time now.”
“Oh.”
If this was difficult for you, it was difficult for Reid as well—if not more—to be vulnerable about his feelings. You knew about how difficult it was for him growing up, being the only twelve-year-old prodigy in a public high school. He’s been through so much with his dad leaving and having to take care of his mom. He’s never had a proper experience with just about everything from making friends, being a normal kid, and in this case, harboring romantic feelings for someone—you.
So, you did what you thought could convey that the feeling was mutual. You gently wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his brown locks. He smelled of crisp pages of a book with a hint of pine. If you thought your favorite version of Reid was him rambling about facts and statistics, you’re probably going to give that version a run for his money. Because this version of Spencer Reid right here—the one who chose to be vulnerable, the one who chose to open up to you not knowing if the feeling was mutual—is probably your new favorite version of him.
“If it isn’t obvious to you, Dr. Reid,” you began, “I’ve liked you for quite some time now too.”
With that, you pulled him away from being tucked into your neck and kissed him again. You felt him grin widely, as you showered his pretty face with pecks, and you could not be happier. Before you could shower him with more kisses, Reid started spouting statistics about office romances.
“One in ten heterosexual couples in the United States meet at work.”
“Lucky for us,” you said as you tried to bury your nose in Reid’s neck, which made him giggle. "We are that one couple in the BAU. Now, shut up, so I can kiss you some more.”
This made Reid guffaw.
You couldn’t be happier waking up next to your coworker.
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jelliessoap · 8 months
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price x professional baseball player! reader hcs >:]]
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male!reader mdni probably long as shit
this idea has been rotting my brain tbh idk why but it’s so !!!!!!! idk but enjoy mwahahaha ( i love this gif sm )
- would meet after the mlb hosted a game in england.
- he didn’t go, you were having a bit of a tour with your teammates and went to grab a drink after a successful game. you were sat next to him at the bar and he struck up a conversation curious about the matching symbols on your hats.
- “never seen that football team before.”
- when you chuckled at him and answered that it wasn’t football finally hearing your accent he was intrigued and your conversation blossomed from there.
- relationship wasn’t a thought for either of you, you were in complete different countries and had busy schedules. but that didn’t mean you guys didn’t wind up developing feelings as time went on
- you guys were more so friends with obvious crushes
- price started learning more about baseball ( watching your game highlights on youtube )
- couldn’t and wouldn’t tell you much about his job though he mentioned it was military. you didn’t pry too much deciding it wasn’t your place
- you decide to fly him out to watch the first playoff game after he congratulated you on making it, before you even told him might i add. he had the time and figured he could use a small get away even if to america of all places to a crowded stadium. it was worth it to see you again.
- bought your bobble head
- did not care for the game until you took the field
- had no clue what was going on but he was cheering for you
- was so excited when your team won
- met up with you after the game and said it wasn’t that interesting but you saw the shirt he bought with your teams logo on it hiding under his arm
- bonus meeting option is some sort of charity event!
now for actually dating lord
- NO. 1 SUPPORTER!!!
- still has the bobble head from the first game of your he went to. he keeps it on the desk of his study and you’ve caught him smiling at it more time than you could count
- goes to all the games of yours he can.
- you live with him in england during off season but have to move back to the US when the season starts up again.
- you both have busy schedules and unpredictable jobs that require travel and at times spontaneous trips but you manage to stay in communication
- should there be a time say when john has a mission that you can’t reach one another you agreed to write letters and exchange them once he returned
- if he can’t watch your game in person its on a tv at base, if theres no tv it’s on a radio. does he understand any of the terminology despite your countless attempts to explain? absolutely not. but his ears perk up and his attention is grabbed whenever he hears the announcer mention your name, reminding him you were still out there.
- you play worse when john is out on missions because you’re worried about him and hoping he’ll make it home unscathed.
- he noticed this watching back on base once and when he got home he wrote a sweet little encouraging note on your glove/bat
- ‘Always watching, give me a good game, slugger. Be home soon. <3 John.’
- heard the term slugger in an old baseball movie you watched together and insisted on making it your nickname
- rented out your home stadium when he proposed to you
- dugout sex
- felt real damn proud of himself when your last name on your jersey changed to price. ( or was hyphenated! )
- you better believe you’ll be rewarded after a good game
- doggy with your jersey still on
- missionary with your jersey on and open so he can rub on your chest and look you in the eyes while he plows you
- “look at their mvp, crying on my cock— what would your team say luv?” omg who wrote that!!!
- he def has a thing for your uniform. those baseball pants show off your ass perfectly
- if he ever bottomed he’d be a power bottom
- would ride you and wear one of your hats you play in or your helmet if you’re a hitter. rimjobs
- you send him dirty pics in your uniform all the time.
- pics with your jersey unbuttoned, drenched with sweat, baseball pants hanging low and your uniform coved in dirt will have him feral for you.
- he’s just a perfect little supportive hubby thh
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doberbutts · 11 months
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They'll make things like weed illegal because it's "dangerous" and "causes brain rot" (we know the real reason, but I digress) but actively encourage teenagers to go get repeated concussions and slack on their studies for a potential career that involves MORE concussions/brain damage and claim that's just wholesome good fun. :)
'merica.
Actually as a black person I'd go a step further: both of these are racism.
Weed is highly associated in the US with black people. Despite many cultures using cannabis and hemp products, in this country the largest stereotype is black people smoking weed. You make weed illegal, you predominantly affect the black population. You turn a stupid occasional indulgence into a felony and you lock people up for life on mandatory minimums for possession. You spread the sterotype that smoking weed makes you a violent predator and you get public opinion on your side while having an excuse to lock up as many undesirables as possible.
Over half of NFL players are black. Watching black people beat the shit out of each other to the point of causing serious lifelong injury is not a new hobby of white people. So what if the players are wearing out as fast as we replace them? They're negros anyway and they earn way too much money and they're all thugs and violent predators and hey wait a minute this sounds eerily familiar...
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searchingforplanes · 1 month
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All that I do is wait for you.
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Notes: I’m a feminist but not when it comes to Matty Healy, clearly. On a more serious note, I wanted to participate in the tag cleanse so, here it is! 
P.s. It’s very loosely inspired by 'Batphone' by Arctic Monkeys and 'Wives and lovers' by Jack Jones bc they’ve been on repeat lately
TW: MDNI!, typos (english is not my first language), traditional gender roles/stay at home girlfriend brain rot, religious themes (I don't even know how that happened), smut 
WC: 1.9k 
You wait in silence on the rug of the living room, your back to the couch, your knees drawn up against your chest. Everything about this moment feels appropriate, normal, even comfortable, from the stiffness of your now cold limbs to the slight smell of smoke and ashes coming from the wood stove in the corner, the only light source that you allowed yourself to keep on.
It suits you, an almost hermit-like situation, silence as your only companion in a never ending wait for salvation. 
He had called you several hours prior from an airport located in a warmer country, telling you he was on his way. You knew it. Of course you knew it. You didn't talk much during touring days but you religiously kept track of his schedule, every stop carefully listed by him on a piece of paper now attached with an apple-shaped magnet on the refrigerator door. Little boxes accompanied each one of them for you to cross; today, the last little square was ticked off.
You recall the first time you had to welcome him home after such a long time. You had felt lost. Did he need anything? A ride from the airport, a warm meal, a new set of lingerie to rip off of you? You had pondered his return so much that your mind had started to suggest you had chosen a life that couldn't belong to you. Sooner or later, you had thought, he would have realized your inadequacy to fill the spot beside him at dinners or at the pub, to fill his house, to fill the rest of his life with, maybe even his grave in the family chapel up north. Concerns, heavy like lead, had crowded your head to the point you felt the ground underneath you flex under the weight. 
First times are often embarrassing, sweet or clumsy, but the first time he had returned home to you it just felt… wrong, like you couldn’t provide him with an appropriate welcome. The echo of his footsteps around the house had felt chastising and more similar to the sound of whip to the one of your lover's return. 
You had spoken to him about it some time later, explaining the lack of purpose you felt laying there, waiting for him to rescue you instead of welcoming him, and he, of course, had told you not to worry, and that 'he wasn't a soldier, he was just doing his job like a normal human being'.
While you trusted him, you realized that the former suggestion resonated with you in a way that you couldn't quite comprehend at first. Maybe it was distasteful to think about his absence that way, considering that greed and gluttony would be the only real threats to his well being while on tour, but the lack of him made you feel like a military widow nonetheless. In a way, you were sharing him with an entire nation, multiple ones even, all waiting for him to offer guidance to his community. The parallel probably didn't make any sense, but it gave you a purpose.
That's why a cherry tart was in the fridge, Nick Drake was softly singing from the record player and you were now sitting facing the windows with wet hair and red lipstick on, waiting for him to turn up. A silly little routine maybe, but comforting, something that generations of awaiting women before you probably had done, the anxiety of being nice and put together for the man you love.
Suddenly your train of thought is cut off at the shower of light that fills the room. It's a sudden flash, the rays filtering through the blinds and painting your face striped before the glow of his low beams curves slightly and then dies on the driveway, replaced by a quick splash of orange. 
You could recognize it anywhere.
It's like experiencing the beginning of the universe, like discovering that life exists outside these four walls, a big bang happening just outside the windows, giving you a world to finally live in. You slowly get up, counting down the twenty seconds it will take for your Adam to reach his garden of Eden. 
His silhouette finally fills the glass door frame, standing straight to watch yours behind the frosted barrier. He pushes the handle and finally he’s in front of you, the first man to ever exist. It’s routine now, his hand coming behind your back to push you towards him and then coming to your waist, grabbing at the fabric of your white nightgown and crinkling it with his tan fingers, the other hand still on the handle, his lips coming down to leave a butterfly-weighted kiss at the corner of your upper lip, the gesture so delicate it could have been the night breeze. 
Soon you’re in bed, the white cotton covering you giving the appearance of innocence, contrasting widely with the man kneeled at the foot of the mattress. He looks like sex personified. He has discarded his shirt on his way to the bedroom, following the flowy nightgown up the stairs, and he is now unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other keeping your foot in place, caressing the ankle with his middle finger. Without the support of the leather strip his dress pants fall just a little lower on his hips, gracing you with the spectacle of his ‘v’ shaped abdomen and his rose tattoo. You don’t dare move just yet, enjoying the way he naturally takes the lead. He unbuttons his slacks, standing up to undress himself completely, half-lidded eyes never leaving your figure. He then crawls over, lifting the nightgown just above your belly button, littering your stomach with small, wet kisses, lingering on your pelvis before crashing his tongue flat against your cunt. He caresses your thighs while he eats you out, slowly lifting your legs to circle his head with, clamping around his ears, the tips of his fingers barely grazing upon the skin, agonizingly ticklish. He slowly trails two of his fingers down and into you, curling into your sweet spot with surgical precision while his lips suck on your clit with unrelenting eagerness. You are panting furiously, swears cascading off your lips with ease and mixing with pleads of his name but he suddenly stops, raising his head just enough so that his breath is still teasing your core.
‘You need you to be a little bit louder princess, I can’t hear your sweet moans with the way you’re crushing my skull’ 
You desperately nod, anything to have him back there and, just as a little aid, you slide your legs down to his throat, choking him slightly and eliciting a deep groan out of him. He instantly resumes with flickers of his tongue, making sure to maintain eye contact with you while you reach your high again. You cross your ankles on his back,tightening the grip around him and cutting his blood flow just a tad more; he takes the hint, increasing the rhythm of his fingers until you’re cumming on his face, completely enveloping him for good with your limbs, his name reverberating in the air like a sinful litany. 
He climbs your body in a couple of swift moves and now you’re face to face, his wet, swollen lips brushing yours, his breath hot against your cheeks. He looks quite a state. Unruly curls, sunken cheekbones, a rosy flush across his neck.
‘Welcome back, baby’
He chuckles darkly, his erection twitching against your thigh, pressing into your flesh through his boxer in search of relief. You slide your hand across his chest, almost feeling his ribs. You’d love to tear him apart just to count them, just to make sure that you haven’t dreamt it: there’s a missing one. God, if he exists, made you out of it, out of him. Maybe that’s why you’re always trying to be as close as possible to one another.
He does just so, after peeling the last piece of clothing off himself, sliding inside of you like he hadn’t left in the first place. He starts moving slowly, standing a little straighter to watch you squirm and whine.
‘What’s wrong baby? Do you want me to stop?’ He coos. He knows exactly what you want, the condescending tone not helping your situation. 
‘Need- need to feel you better’
‘Is that so, princess? Did I make you too wet? Let you make it up to you, yeah?’
He finally undresses you completely, crumpling the nightgown in his hands, bottoming out completely and wiping your cunt, the friction causing a small moan out of you. 
When he finally thrusts into you again, the burn is so delicious you can feel your eyes roll into your skull.
‘Is that better baby? You’re such a dirty fuck doll, so eager for this dick that you want it to feel it split you open’
You choke out a broken moan, fire licking up your limbs and feeding the warm feeling in your lower stomach.
‘Answer me princess, don’t be shy’
‘Y-Yeah I am Matty, fuck’
His thrusts get faster as a way to reward you, the effort making his smirk fade in favour of a much more fucked out expression. He’s on the edge as much as you. You can feel the pleasure reaching an impossible level of tightness in your stomach and you grab his forearm with your hand  in anticipation, fingernails planting into his tattoos. 
‘Keep looking at me when you cum on my cock kitten’ 
Matty’s request sounds more like an order you can barely follow when your orgasm actually hits you, eyelids fluttering and hands scratching his tense back, your legs twitching like a shock wave had just hit you. Matty does his best to ground you, his hands keeping your hips glued to the mattress while he keeps fucking into you. 
‘Matty you can’t anymore, ‘m too overstimulated’
He coos at you, sweetly condescending, your whispered pleas almost amusing him.
‘Yes you can, baby. Just a bit more, okay? I’ll cum with you, promise’
You nod your head the best you can, feeling the tension starting to rise again when he starts to gently rub at your clit with his thumb, leaning to cover your cheeks with small kisses that contrast with his frantic thrusts.
‘Where do you want me, princess?’
It’s a rhetorical question, you both know it, but you don’t seem to be able to answer him. Even with your mouth agape, air isn’t filling your lungs, and you can only trust him to understand you when you trail a hand down to your lower stomach, resting it on the spot where you can feel the head of his cock hitting. 
He smirks down at you, his expression scrunching up a second later when he feels you clenching around him. 
‘I’ll fill you up good, kitten, don’t worry about it, you just have to let go. Wanna feel you milking my cock for what it’s worth’ 
His words finally make you crumble a second time, tears brimming your eyes while he fucks you through your orgasm until he is on the brink too, admiring your fucked out expression before releasing inside of you. 
He rolls off of you, his arms coming to cradle your head while you try to regain your breathing rhythm. 
‘I’m never gonna leave again’
You chuckle and slap his heaving chest.
‘You will, but I’ll wait for you. All that I do is wait for you.’
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poetryandfluffycats · 1 month
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Poker face
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A/N: i wanna write a death note fic....
Pairing: Husband!Fyodor Dostoevsky x fem!reader
Content: You husband, Fyodor, doesn't tell you much about himself. He says that his stories will just bore you, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Warnings: toxic relationships, mentions of murder, fyodor is a warning in itself😭
Words: 521
Oneshot under cut!
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Fyodors eyes met mine from across the table, his cold gaze never leaving me even as he reached for his glass of wine and took a long sip. I watched his adams apple bob up and down with each swallow, the red liquid slowly disappearing from the glass. Our staring contest continued as he placed the glass down, leaning back in his chair resting his hands comfortably in his lap.
"How was your day, dear?" There was a smirk in his voice, even if it didn't show on his face. He didn't need to ask, he knew. He always knew.
"Fine" I blinked, keeping my face as neutral as possible. If I showed any cracks in my facade, he would have the upper hand. He would win. "Yours?"
"A bore" Fyodor sighed, moving his chess piece forward on the board. "Don't worry yourself, a worried wife is a useless one"
His words used to hurt me, burrowing like maggots into my brain and rotting away. Now I understood that I shouldn't take it to heart. That our marriage was a loveless one to begin with. That there was no reason to care for insults from a husband who only married me to use me as a tool in his game.
"Same for a worried husband, no?" I quipped back, moving my own piece. "Checkmate"
"You're learning" He chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into the slightest smile. He didn't smile much, or at least, not a genuine smile. Whether this one was real or not, I had no idea. It looked more out of mockery than anything. "Shall we go to bed, or do you have more snarky comments for me?"
"It's only 9pm" I tilted my head to the side, eying up the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room.
"Is that an issue?"
"For a man who stays up all night working on something he won't tell me about, yes. Why so tired now?"
Fyodor sighed again, shaking his head and sending me a sharp glare. "Don't ask me questions you don't want the answer too"
A classic response. A warning, more like. Fuck around and find out, poke the bear and get eaten, or which ever cliché phrase you wanted to use. It was true, however. I didn't want to know what he got up too at his work-which he had told me was an office job that would 'simply bore me to death'.
But I had seen him leave late in the night, seen him return covered in blood, seen the headlines the next morning and heard the gossip from the woman in town.
A terrorist organization, the Rats they called it, revoking havoc all over the country. The leader had been spotted too many times to count, a sicky Russian man with a piercing purple gaze.
I wasn't stupid.
But I wouldn't pry, either. I had all the information I was going to get. Because if there was one thing Fyodor was best at, it was his poker face.
"Fine. Bed it is"
"That's a good girl, tuck me in, will you?"
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Camping with Wolves (M) ~Lee Know
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Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | bit of Angst | Best Friends to Lovers Warnings: pet names (kitten/baby/babe/etc), pining?, unashamedly pushing the soft!Minho agenda, mentions of divorce, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of blood and violence, graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). Word Count: ~11k | AO3 Summary: Minho was your rock, he was your anchor, your best friend, which was why you just couldn’t stop yourself from falling for him, even when he was, essentially, a supernatural being. One ‘camping trip’ might be the last push you needed to finally confess. Or maybe not…  [This story takes place within the It’s Cold Out universe, meaning it’s part of my WereRoomies series].
Author’s Note: the werewolf brain rot is real y’all… i just wanted more soft werewolf content, so here this piece is. anyway, if you’re reading this, hope you enjoy, and if you do, don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts~
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Minho’s WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves · Dog Unleashed · Are You There, Wolf?
Smut Warnings: this is all really soft, you have been warned. lots of praising, fingering [F.Rec], nipple play [F.Rec], unprotected penetration [piv] (this is a piece of fiction in which you can trust people when they tell you they’re clean. wrap it irl please i beg you), cum on body/cumshot.
Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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You could still remember quite vividly the day you met your best friend. It was a turning point in your life, so how could you not remember it. Moving to a new place after your parents divorce was probably the last thing you wanted to do. Your life had been turned upside down the moment your dads sat you down at the tender age of ten and told you ‘sweetie, there’s something your father and I need to tell you…’, and suddenly you were packing your bags and moving to the other side of the country.
New town, new places to see, new school, one less dad to greet in the mornings, and zero friends.
Your first day of school had been a blur of introductions, comments of ‘wow you’ve got two dads?’ and ‘you’re from where?’, and honestly by the time the day was over you were just ready to leave the building and hole up in your room for the rest of the week.
It’d been just as you were making your way home from school that you saw him. A boy, around your age, with long, black hair, crouched by the side of the road with a box in his hands, trying to put something in it. You’d never been too sure why you went close that day, you weren’t exactly a social butterfly, but something compelled you to walk close to the boy, and the closer you got, you could finally make out what was it that he was trying to put in the box, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.
“What happened?!” Was all that came out of your mouth back then.
“Dunno… Just saw them here like this”, he side-eyed you a bit, but went back to try and put the clearly injured kittens in the box. “If you’re gonna stand there, at least help me out. Can’t leave them here”.
So you sprung into action, helping him put the little babies in the box, and even going as far as to going with him to the closest vet you could find–all led by the boy of course, after all, you’d just moved in and had absolutely no idea where you were standing.
“Ah, Minho–” The person at the entrance greeted him as soon as you two had come through the door, their face changing from that welcoming smile to slight surprise as they saw the box in his hands. “Dear heavens, what happened?”
“Dunno. Found them like this. They look hurt. Can you do anything?” The boy, Minho, you presumed, by the way the person at the counter called him. They hurriedly came from around the counter and took a quick look at the kittens, then at you both, offering a smile–a bit of a forced one, but you figured they were trying to not alarm you both too much, considering your faces were surely full of worry.
“I’ll have Mrs. Jung have a look at them as soon as possible, hm? Should I register the appointment under your mother’s name?”
Minho nodded, and just like that the person took the box from his hands, disappearing behind a door on the side of the room. With a sigh, he took his backpack off and moved to sit on one of the chairs by the waiting area, and again, for some inexplicable reason, you did the same, sitting next to him for a bit in complete silence.
You truly were never one of spending time with strangers like this, but when you got a chance later in life to analyse your behaviours at the time, you came to the realisation that you simply didn’t want to go back home that day, that you were trying to escape the fact that you had to go back to a new house without one of your fathers and be completely on your own until your other father came back. Which was why, that day, you couldn’t stop yourself from turning around to the boy, and attempting to start a friendly conversation with him.
“You do this often?”
He turned to look at you, with his eyes a bit wide in surprise, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were talking to him. “Do what?”
“Bring injured animals? They know your mum’s name, don’t they?”
“Ah, mm”, Minho nodded, turning to look back to the floor. “Mum’s a vet tech. And since I’m a magnet to finding hurt animals, I’m a regular here”.
“Mmm…”
You both were silent for a while, just hearing the odd beep of a machine in the distance, until Minho squirmed a bit in his seat, turning his whole body to look at you. “I’m Minho, by the way. Never seen you around before… It’s a small town”.
You introduced yourself, and explained that you had just moved in. It went on like this for a while, just you two talking as you waited for the vet to come out with news. You’d learnt that day that Minho was indeed your age, he had two cats and two dogs at home, he knew one too many facts about dinosaurs, and that he never missed one episode of Kamen Rider. It was interesting how, in contrast to his resting face, when he talked to you he didn’t look annoyed at all, and by the time the vet came out and informed you two that the kittens were fine, but a little dehydrated and that they would need to stay the night, you had learnt more about this boy next to you than any other classmate you ever had.
“I’ll be here tomorrow after school to check on the cats”, Minho said as soon as you stepped out of the clinic. “You know, in case you… Wanna see them again…”
You couldn’t help but give him a smile, hiking your bag further up your shoulder. “I’d like that. Maybe I’ll… Keep one. Always wanted a cat”.
“They’re great company. You won’t regret it!” And the smile that made its way onto his face as he said it could’ve easily outshine the sun. You had no other option but to believe him. “Can I… Uh… Walk you home, maybe? It’s kinda late…”
So you accepted his offer, and back then, you couldn’t have even imagined how that simple encounter would kick-start your lifelong friendship with Minho. 
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Interesting thing, how someone could become such an integral part of your day to day life that the second something wasn’t quite right, it was very hard to miss. 
Since you met him, Minho and you had been inseparable. You ended up adopting one of the kittens he’d saved–Sir Percival of Camelot, you’d called him, because you liked the eccentricity of it all. Your father wasn’t exactly thrilled to have a cat at the time, but in his post-divorce guilt he just didn’t have it in him to deny you the wish, so Sir Percival and Minho became your best friends in this new town you had barely any knowledge of, and for their company, you were immensely grateful.
Minho and you would hang out every weekend, sometimes even a few times a week after school just to watch his precious Kamen Rider together, or just to play with Sir Percival, but Saturdays were solely reserved for you and him.
One Saturday, though, Minho didn’t make it. There’d been no phone call, no voice message left on the machine, no prior comment of ‘might not be able to make it’, nothing, and even though your father tried his best to assure you something simply must’ve come up, you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that was quickly building inside of you.
It wasn’t until later that day, at around midnight that you got the phone call. You were already asleep, it’d been your father who’d picked up, and as soon as the call was over he had immediately come to your room, to where you and Sir Percival had been cuddled up sleeping on your bed.
“Sweetie… Wake up, dear…” Your father caressed your hair softly, but there was urgency in his voice, and it had you stirring awake almost immediately. As soon as he saw you open your eyes, he spoke again. “Minho… He’s had a… A terrible accident”.
He might as well had shoved a harpoon through your heart. You’d never had a panic attack prior to that night, but the entire chain of events certainly led to one, and your father did try his best to calm you down. Ultimately, he’d hugged you tightly and asked you ‘would you like to go to the hospital?’ to which you obviously said yes without a second thought.
You’d never forget the sight of Minho’s mother that night, with her eyes red and puffy, and her hands slightly shaking as she waited for the doctors to give her any news on the state of her one and only son. You could still remember how tightly she hugged you and your father when you went to the hospital that night. ‘They found him by the edge of the woods, hurt… Bloodied–’ the poor woman could hardly speak, and honestly, you couldn’t blame her, even you weren’t able to produce a single word back then.
The sight of your best friend, of your dearest Minho all intubated and hooked up to machines in that hospital bed plagued you for months, even after he eventually woke up, seemingly fine, as if nothing had happened to him at all, as if he hadn’t almost died. To this day, you were still grateful you were there that day when he woke up, that you were able to hug him tight and cry on his chest as he softly patted you on the back confused out of his mind because he couldn’t remember anything that had happened.
Life went on as normal after he was discharged from the hospital, he’d continue to rescue animals whenever he could, he’d continue to go to class without further eventualities, he’d continue to take care of his pets, to watch his shows, and every day you’d ask him ‘you sure you’re okay?’ to which he’d only scoff and reply a ‘hundred percent’. 
But of course, he wasn’t a hundred percent. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks after that you both finally saw the full damage of his accident. It happened at night, on one of your Saturday hangouts, you were having a sleepover, and your father trusted you both enough to stay home alone on your own, even if you were only pre-teen kids–not the safest choice, you’d admit.
You were hanging out as normal, watching the latest Kamen Rider episode, when suddenly Minho tensed where he was sitting next to you on the sofa, and he started gasping for air. To say that you were scared out of your mind was an understatement, and the fact that Sir Percival was all puffed up and had started to hiss uncontrollably at him didn’t make it any better. All of a sudden, among the pained groans and cries of your friend, strange sounding pops and cracks started to resonate in your living room, and in utter shock you saw your dear friend Minho inexplicably change shape, from his normal self to… A wolf.
Back then, you couldn’t even move, you just stared at it–at him?–as Minho thrashed around your living room in a panic, knocking several portraits out of place and making Sir Percival run away and hide. It wasn’t until you called for him, your voice barely audible for you to hear, that he finally stopped moving, turning to look at you. His eyes were the same, the same dark brown irises that you’d come to know as your best friend’s eyes, and the canine whines that came out of his throat pulled at your heartstrings unpleasantly.
If you hadn’t seen his eyes you might’ve not done what you did that night, but as soon as you saw them, as you heard his pained sounds, you just moved closer, slowly, scared he’d go into a frenzied state again. As soon as you were in front of him, you just kneeled, ignoring any and every single warning bell going off in your head as you looked at the wolf, because deep down, you knew this was your friend. Your Minho.
So you hugged that goddamn wolf that was suddenly standing where your friend used to be, and you felt as he almost relaxed fully into your hold as you whispered an incredulous ‘what the hell’s going on?’ You hugged him for a long time, until you started to hear those same pops and cracks that you heard before, giving way to your friend’s human form again, naked, looking at you with panicked eyes and tears in his eyes.
“I remember…” Minho sobbed as he held your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, and you couldn’t help the tears from running down your cheeks as you heard him. “I remember what happened. There was a wolf… Huge one… It attacked me, it bit me… What’s going on… What am I gonna do…”
You just couldn’t bear that look in his eyes, the tremble in his voice, the tears that wouldn’t stop, so you pulled him to you, hugging him tightly, all as you tried your best to be there for your friend, to reassure him, even if every single word that came out of your mouth did so between hiccups and sobs. “We’ll figure it out… Together, Minho. Together, huh?”
“No… You shouldn’t be close to me, what if I–”
“Together, I said”, you just hugged him tighter. Minho was your friend, your anchor, and there was no way that you would let him deal with this–whatever it was–on his own. “Don’t push me away please…”
“I should…” But even as he said it, Minho held you tighter.
Trying to get your living room looking normal after that was a bit of a challenge, but once you both calmed down and you fished some of your father’s old clothes for him to put on you managed to do that fairly well, so much so your dad didn’t even notice anything different the next day–maybe due to the exhaustion his night shift had brought him, you’d never know…
Minho started to change a bit after that situation. He grew taller, stronger, and his senses heightened, especially his hearing. Minho was able to hear things kilometres away from him, and it contributed to a period of crankiness in his life, where he would snap at people or be a bit harsher than usual–not to you, though. He always tried his best to not snap at you, and whenever he did, he always apologised almost immediately. 
You started to change a bit, but not in any supernatural way, just in a normal, human puberty way. It was normal, your father had told you back then, and as all these new changes started happening in your body, both physically and emotionally, you started to see your dear Minho in a new light. Suddenly, whenever he hugged you your cheeks would heat up, whenever he laughed because of one of your jokes your heart would flutter, and whenever you were watching TV and a couple kissed on the screen you couldn’t help but wonder how it’d be to do something like that… To do something like that with Minho.
You reasoned it was normal, Minho was the only boy you had around you at the time, so obviously you would think these things sometimes. It meant nothing, for sure. He never really seemed to show any interest other than being your friend, and that was fine. You were fine with that. Having him with you, however it was, was truly all you ever needed.
There were some challenges, though. Minho had all these weird symptoms and behaviours now that he had been turned into what your research had told you was a werewolf. You both couldn’t exactly go to anyone and tell them ‘hey, remember that accident Minho had a handful of months ago? Yeah, about that…’ because, realistically, who would believe you? The universe, though, worked in your favour, because one day, when Minho had come to pick you up from your after school class to walk you home, another boy had approached you.
“Hey, excuse me…” You recognised the boy from your school, a couple of years younger than you, and when he approached, Minho’s eyes went wide in surprise, almost as if he recognised him somehow. “Are you… You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
“Who are you? And why are you asking such weird questions?” You couldn’t help but intervene, always feeling oddly protective of your friend and his… Condition.
The boy flushed a bit, but he looked you in the eyes regardless. “I’m… Jisung. And I’m asking because at first I thought it was you. I’ve been… Building up the courage to come and ask, so we could, you know, maybe help each other out? I don’t know that many people at school, but only now that I saw you together I realised I was smelling him on you”.
“You’re… You’re a werewolf, too?” Minho was slightly incredulous, stepping a bit closer to you. “Is that what I’m smelling on you? A werewolf scent?”
“You can’t tell?” Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, confused, but then he gasped, looking slightly alarmed. “Were you… Were you born as a werewolf at all?”
Minho just shook his head. “Was attacked. Now I’m like this”.
“Oh, God!” Bringing his hands up to his head in alarm, Jisung almost threw his beanie off of his head with the motion. “You have no pack?!”
“Nope. Just have my mum, and my friend here”,  Minho draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you to him. He’d been doing this often these days, keeping you close to him when someone came too close. You didn’t mind much, but it did make your heart stutter, which you conveniently always decided to ignore.
Regardless, Minho was right in his statement. He didn’t have many friends, he’d had a couple of friends throughout the years but they usually fell through, you were the constant, just like he was your constant. Funnily enough, Jisung also didn’t have many friends, or any at all, so he naturally gravitated towards you two after that day, and, in a way, you liked that. Mostly because he was able to help Minho in ways you never could.
Jisung helped him understand how to take care of himself as a werewolf, how to control certain urges and how to fulfil certain needs. He started joining you two on your Saturday plans, and your father was honestly happy that you were making other friends, too. Sir Percival, on the other hand, had a hard time getting accustomed to the two werewolves coming in and out of the house. He liked Minho enough, because he recognised what he’d done for him–or at least, that was what Minho told you Sir Percival told him–but the addition of Jisung had him a bit on edge.
Especially because, for some reason, Jisung was… Affectionate, to put it simply. He liked to cuddle. A lot. And he would often try to get Sir Percival to cuddle him, or he would try to get Minho to cuddle him, or he would try to get you to cuddle him, and honestly you were usually the only one to cater to his needs, so at some point he started coming to you directly.
You didn’t really mind, but whenever he left earlier than Minho then he also wanted to cuddle, and you never truly understood why, but you let him anyway, mostly because you… Liked cuddling with Minho. As friends, of course. Always friends. Just friends.
So you spent a couple of years like this. With your two werewolf friends, with your mildly grumpy cat, facing the hardships of high school along with the hardships of their supernatural condition. Until Jisung broke the news that he had to move out, because his pack was moving out, and since he was so young he just couldn’t make the decision for himself, he had to leave.
You could still remember the day he left. You cried a bit, you’d admit, even Minho was holding back a few tears as he hugged his friend, just as Jisung offered a ‘this isn’t goodbye, we’ll meet again. I’m sure of it’. And as you saw him walk down the road, Minho pulled you to him, hugging you tightly against him.
“Just you and me again, kitten. What are we gonna do now?”
You just chuckled, pulling away from him a bit to look him in the eyes and wipe some of the tears that were still clinging to your lower lash line. “Kitten, huh?”
“Of course!” Minho said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world for him to use such a pet name with you. “You’re a cat person, aren’t you? And I’m a… Dog-person, heh…”
Groaning, you slapped him in the chest. “That’s such a bad joke, honestly. Why do I keep up with your shit?”
“Because I’m your favourite person in this world”, he swayed your bodies back and forth, waddling you back towards your house. “And I’d be your favourite animal, too, if it weren’t for Sir Percival”.
All you could do back then was laugh, because he was right. He was your favourite person in this world.
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‘People usually grow apart, sweetie. It’s a normal thing that happens’, your father had told you once, and you believed him. But funnily enough, that never happened to you and Minho.
Sure, you moved out of your hometown after high school to pursue higher education somewhere else, while he moved out to do exactly the same–his goal of becoming a vet was still one of the most oddly amusing things to you, considering he was close to being an animal himself. You both made new groups of friends, dated different people, took different career paths, but even then, you still kept in touch. Even if you had grown and matured, in essence, you were both still the same.
Minho had finally found a pack of his own, right after he reconnected with Jisung. The second he moved into their den he invited you over and you met his entire new group of friends, his new family, and you couldn’t have been any happier for him. They were all so nice and welcoming, and you quickly found out that Minho had become one of the main pillars of his pack, something that, somehow, was and wasn’t surprising in equal parts. 
On one hand, it was because you were so used to Minho The Loner, Minho the boy who only had you and Jisung, that knowing he now had other people to care for was surprising. But on the other hand, Minho was so caring, so protective, there was no doubt in your mind that he’d be able to protect these people well, especially when he cared deeply about them. Just as he had done with you throughout the years.
You two tried to meet at least once a month, and most of the time it was you who drove to his place, staying over in his flat as you recounted anything you hadn’t talked about in the past thirty days, all as Kamen Rider played in the background, a show that Minho was still to this day attached to–and you couldn’t blame him, the thing was entertaining and it didn’t seem like they’d stop pumping seasons anytime soon.
Jisung would join you often, too. Demanding attention and cuddles just in the way only Jisung knew how to, and the rest of his pack soon followed once they warmed up to you.
You could still remember the first day Minho introduced you to his pack’s leader–or ‘alpha’, as they called it. Chris was nice, he greeted you with respect, and Minho had told you after that he was the one who had to ‘allow’ people staying here, even if they were just visiting. So you figured he thought you were nice as well, considering you frequently stayed over.
As the years went by you saw more werewolves join their pack, Seungmin, Felix, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and eventually, even humans as well when Chris got himself a new roommate–his now girlfriend. The last person you saw move in here was Changbin’s roommate, also now his girlfriend, and they all seemed to take care of each other really well, they all worked together to keep their small ecosystem going smoothly, and it was honestly refreshing to see.
It made you feel happy for Minho, who seemed to finally have a full, loving family of his own. Not like his mother wasn’t family, she just didn’t know–or couldn’t know, as Minho put it–what he was, and that, coupled with the fact that she had apparently remarried an asshole–had unfortunately put a bit of a strain on his relationship with her.
“I have news, kitten”, Minho said, plopping himself on top of you on the sofa, not caring in the slightest if he crushed you, the sudden weight on your chest making you groan.
“Can’t breathe”, was all you mustered, so Minho shuffled, laying on his side and wrapping his limbs around your body to pull you closer to him.
“Better?”
“Yeah”, you just sighed, turning to bury your face in his clothed chest. “So, news?”
“Yes”, Minho rubbed his cheek on the top of your head, and you could’ve sworn you heard him mumble a ‘God, you still smell like Jisung’ before he cleared his throat and continued talking again. “Remember how we always talk about the monthly camping trips and how I’ve always wanted to take you and you’ve always wanted to come, but Chris’ never let us because ‘it’s too dangerous’?” He added the last bit with a poor imitation of Chris’ voice, making you laugh.
“Yeah, how could I not remember”, you couldn’t help yourself from inhaling deeply, getting lost in the smell of Minho’s fabric softener, on the smell of his body wash, on his natural scent, and–God, you really shouldn’t let your thoughts wander like this, not when he was this close, not when you knew you liked your friend… More than a friend.
You’d always known. How you felt towards Minho. Even if you’d dated other people, you’d always known. You always just tried to ignore it. But these days, whenever you met after spending long periods of time apart, you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering into that dangerous territory… Into the What-Ifs. What if I told him? What if I kissed him? What if he kissed me? What if we fu–
“Well, I’ve finally gotten him to agree”, the smile was almost audible in his voice, and it made you pull away from his chest to look him in the eyes.
“Really?!”
“Really, really”, Minho’s hold around your body tightened even more. “So, hope you can get your friend Mar to take care of Sir Percival for a bit. I don’t think he’d like being surrounded by nine wolves”.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. “Oh, he’d hate it. He’s too old for that. So when’s this trip of yours?”
“In a couple of weeks, you think you can make it?”
“Hm. I’ll make it”.
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“When you said you went camping every month, this wasn’t what I had in mind”, you couldn’t help but say the moment you pulled up into the house, or should you say mansion? “This place is huge”.
“Did you think we were literally sleeping in the woods?” Seungmin yawned, rubbing sleep from his eyes when you turned to look at him from the passenger’s seat.
“I mean, isn’t that what camping is? Whose house is this anyway?”
“Chris’”, Minho replied simply as he started parking. “It’s the only thing his grandparents left him after they passed. Since he had a pack of his own, they figured it’d be useful. And it is, but it’s also a pain to upkeep”.
As soon as Minho was parked, Seungmin and you stepped out of the car and opened the boot, taking out the many bags and backpacks from there so you could get them into the house. Changbin’s and Chris’ cars arrived right after, and soon enough, everything was placed securely within the living area or in the kitchen–the latter exactly where you were in right now, getting the many containers of food into the refrigerator with Minho, just as Hyunjin busied himself washing an assortment of cups, plates, and glasses.
“Which room can I take?” You asked once everything was put away in its place.
“You’re staying in mine”, Minho replied simply, chewing on a piece he’d taken off of a baguette.
“And where will you be staying?”
Minho blinked slightly, swallowing the food in his mouth. “In my room. You’re staying with me”.
“What?” It wasn’t like you hadn’t slept within the same room as Minho before, you’d done it plenty of times. But since your… Acceptance of your feelings, you weren’t sure you’d be able to share such an enclosed space without losing your sanity–or worse, confessing your feelings.
“One of Chris’ conditions”, Chris’ girlfriend explained from where she was sitting on one of the kitchen stools, taking a sip of her glass of water.
“Can’t I stay with you?” You asked her, pouting slightly.
“Not unless you want to sleep with me, too”, Chris chimed in as he stepped into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s waist just as she offered him a bit of her water, which he immediately took a sip of.
“Why wouldn’t you want to stay with me? I’m offended”, Minho said in a mock hurt tone, serving himself a glass of water as well. “Besides, wouldn’t recommend staying with these two. They’ll surely fuck even if you’re there”.
“Hey!” Chris was also clearly pretending to be offended, bringing a hand to clutch his chest. “I can behave”.
“Baby, you and I both know that’s not true”, his girlfriend chuckled, patting him on the chest as she made her way to the sink to give Hyunjin her glass.
“I can!”
“Christopher, darling, dear angel, don’t lie to yourself like this. You’d have one look at our dear mother’s child bearing hips and you’ll lose it”, Minho pointed at him, trying to sound like those cheap ‘life coaches’ on social media. “It’s okay to admit you have a problem, we’re here for you”.
Chris gasped, bringing a hand to his mouth. “For the record, I don’t have a problem–”
“That’s right, you don’t”, Chris’ girlfriend added, with a teasing smile on her lips. “You’re just shameless”.
“That I am. I mean, can you blame me? Just look at your hips… At your everything, damn…” Chris gave his girlfriend a look from head to toe, staring for maybe a bit too long, until his girlfriend mustered a ‘see? Shameless. Utterly remorseless’, making him snap out of his trance, bringing a sheepish smile to his face. And then, finally, he turned to you. “Minho’s right. You’re better off staying with him. With that being said, let’s get everything ready, the sun will set soon”.
As it turned out, ‘getting everything ready’ meant making sure there were plenty of robes ready by the back entrance where the pack would come back through, filling an insane amount of jugs with water, and having the food ready for them to just pop into the microwave once they were back. Jeongin, Felix, Changbin’s girlfriend, and Minho got busy with this, while the rest of you took the reminder bags that were left in the living room to each room.
You left your belongings and Minho’s for last, and when you opened the door to his room you could’ve almost fainted. There was one bed. You were going to have to share this bed with Minho for at least two nights and you honestly weren’t sure how you were going to survive that. On one hand, that meant you’d get to cuddle, one of your favourite activities to do with your best friend. On the other hand, you’d get to cuddle, which was the worst thing you could do when you were harbouring feelings for said best friend.
For the time being, you decided to ignore this, since the sun was setting and the pack would surely leave soon. So you left your bags there, and made your way back downstairs to find everyone already going through the back door to the backyard. 
Minho spotted you right as he was taking his shirt off, a sight you certainly didn’t need, but you wouldn’t shy away from anyway. “Ready for your run, doggy?”
Minho scoffed, unbuttoning his trousers. Your eyes followed the movement, and your face went serious immediately. Thankfully–or regretfully, you couldn’t decide–he left them on. “Don’t look at me like that, kitten. I might think you want to see me naked”, he was only teasing you, just like he always did, but he was so close to the truth you were finding it incredibly hard to not look guilty. “When was the last time you saw me in my wolf form?”
“Uhhh…” You honestly couldn’t recall, or maybe it was hard to when you were too focused on not looking at his chest. “Probably before we finished high school? Which, now that I think about it, is kinda weird, isn’t it? It’s been a long time. Why do you ask?”
“‘Cause… I don’t think you’d be calling me a doggy if you’d seen me recently”, whatever response you had for that got caught in your throat as soon as you saw his eyes shift, turning from that brown you knew so well to golden, glowing a bit more intensely the more the sun set.
Minho stared at you, right in the eyes with his golden ones. It lasted probably just a few moments, but it felt like an eternity, until he finally spoke again, a bit slower than usual and with a low tone that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. “I’m gonna take these off”, he took a hold of his zipper, and it was almost as if he was challenging you to keep looking. But ultimately, you were a coward, so you turned around.
You heard the characteristic sound of the zipper opening up, then you heard the rustling of fabric, and finally, you started to hear the pops and cracks you’d come to know as the sounds of his human body shifting into his wolf form. Soon enough, you started to hear the same sounds all around the backyard, and you knew the rest were also doing the same.
After a while, you felt warmth behind you, not really on you, but close enough for you to feel the huffs of breath against your back, so you turned around, coming face to face with your best friend. And you honestly weren’t prepared.
You’d seen Minho in his wolf form plenty of times in the past, but admittedly you hadn’t seen him since you entered adulthood, much less with this golden glow in his eyes. His fur was the same, the same shade, the same pattern, but he’d grown. In his human form, Minho wasn’t really considered a tall man, but like this, he was certainly bigger than any wolf you’d ever seen, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from going wide in surprise and a soft ‘wow’ from leaving your lips.
In his eyes, you could almost see his amusement, almost as if he was laughing at your reaction. Coming close to you, Minho nudged your hand with his nose, and you immediately brought that same hand to his head, petting him, scratching behind his ear affectionately, and a smile immediately made its way onto your face. “You’re still a doggy to me, you know?”
Minho huffed, somewhat annoyed, you figured. Giving your hand an affectionate lick, he turned around walking towards the rest of his pack that were already gathering by the edge of the woods. Suddenly, you felt warmth close again, and you gasped as an even bigger wolf walked past you. Chris, probably, since his girlfriend was walking right behind him, and she stopped next to you to look at the rest.
Once Chris reached the edge of the woods, he turned around, pacing a bit, getting the full attention of his pack of wolves. As soon as he was seemingly satisfied with their positions, he howled, triggering a chain of howls from the other wolves, until finally he turned back towards the woods and took off, the rest following soon after.
And just like that, they were gone.
“Well, just you and me for a few hours, then”, Chris’ girlfriend turned to you, giving you a small smile. “Wanna hang out here, or you prefer chilling on your own?”
You gave her a smile in return. “Let’s hang out”.
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The moment the pack came back, it was all a blur. The group was usually chaotic, but it seemed like the run had made them even more so. Everyone’s eyes were glowing golden, some more intensely than others, but they were, and they explained to you that it was the influence of the moon, that it’d probably wear off once they all calmed down or by the time the sun was back up in the sky.
The kitchen was crammed with everyone trying to get themselves stuffed full of food. It was all heartwarming, in a way. Very homely, just like any time you’d seen them all interact together, and they even made their best efforts to keep you included in the conversation, which you appreciated immensely.
At some point, Minho left the group, only to return a handful of minutes later, out of his robe and into his usual pyjamas–a loose vest top and loose shorts. The second he stepped into the kitchen, he shushed everyone, bringing the attention to him, just as he brought his hands up.
“Time to pay up, losers. Mummy and Daddy are fucking”.
There was a mix of groans and cheers, and it was only then that you noticed that Chris and his girlfriend weren’t there. They’d never come to the kitchen at all, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you saw the group exchange tenners, until finally Minho, Jisung, Changbin, and Felix split the jackpot.
“Man, I really had hopes for them”, Changbin’s girlfriend commented as she took a sip of her drink, giving Changbin a dirty look as he waved his winnings on her face.
Felix snorted at that. “Please, did you see how Chris was running towards the end of the run? I knew we’d won immediately”.
The rest of the evening went on like this, joking, talking, just overall having a good time, and by the time Chris appeared in the kitchen to get two plates of food, looking as if he had just won Millionaire, only Felix, Seungmin, Minho, and you were left.
“Gonna go to bed”, you murmured to Minho just as Seungmin started teasing Chris about his escapade.
“Going with you”, his eyes were still glowing, and by now he was probably the only one whose eyes were still glowing–you couldn’t really tell, since some of them left earlier before the effects of the moon had worn off.
As you made your way upstairs, and freshened up for bed, you were reminded of your earlier predicament. The shared bed. Honestly, by now, you were so tired you could hardly care at all. You’d push through, just like you always did.
Tucking yourself into the covers you let out a sigh, enjoying the soft sheets on your exposed limbs, waiting for your roommate for the night to come back from his trip to the toilet. You’d push through, you reminded yourself. Minho was your friend. Your best friend. You’d slept with him a million times, it’d be fine.
As soon as the man in question made it back to your room, he switched off the light and plopped himself on the bed, making it bounce slightly, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 
“So, did you have fun with our dear pack mother? Was coming to our ‘camping trip’ what you’d expected?” Minho wiggled under the covers, turning to look at you.
“I did have fun with her, she’s nice”, you regarded him with a smile. “It wasn’t exactly what I expected, but wow if it isn’t an experience, huh?”
“It is”, Minho chuckled, smiling so wide you could barely see his eyes, but that little bit of them that you did get to see was still glowing gold, and you just had to comment on it.
“Why are your eyes still glowing?”
Minho shrugged, moving a bit closer to you. “A lot of werewolf shit going on right now with the moon, it’ll go away eventually”.
“Mm”, was all you could muster before you yawned, stretching your limbs a bit only to turn to your side, away from Minho. “Gonna sleep now, g’night”.
“Aww, c’mon”, you felt Minho move, and then you felt warmth, warmth on your back where he was almost pressing his chest to, and warmth on your waist where he had thrown his arm to wrap around you. “Let’s cuddle a bit, kitten. Hm? Pretty please?”
“Ugh, get off, you big dog. You’re too warm”, you couldn’t help but whine. Contradicting your words, though, you took his hand that was lying around your waist and clutched it to your chest, keeping him in place.
Minho noticed, because of course he did, so he chuckled, clearly amused, further pressing his chest to your back. “Let go of my hand, then. So I can move away”.
You were silent for a bit, softly running your thumb on his palm. He let you, just like he always did. “Don’t wanna…” 
It was warm, he was warm. He always was, he’d always been since the day he turned, but even if it was stupidly warm under the thin covers, you still wanted him close to you. Because Minho was comfort, he was safety, and tonight you wanted just that, even if you would turn into a puddle of sweat right then and there.
“Mmm…” Minho’s hum vibrated against your shoulder, where he had been keeping his mouth pressed since he moved closer to you. It wasn’t uncommon for you two to be this close, you cuddled often. Platonically. Or at least, you were convinced it was platonic.
There was always that tiny voice in your head telling you to yank the cork you had stuffed in your heart, to let your true feelings free, but what if you did and Minho didn’t feel the same way about you? Your friendship might be ruined. Although, realistically, you knew Minho wouldn’t treat you any differently, he was that type of person, and you’d probably get over your feelings after that imminent rejection.
“Lift your head up a bit”, Minho said suddenly, so you immediately did as asked, feeling as he sneaked his arm under your neck, curling around your frame to pull you even closer to him, admittedly turning your heartbeat up a notch. “You think Sir Percival’s doing alright?” His lips brushed on your shoulder with each word, and your body was quickly betraying you, goosebumps rising under his touch and heat quickly pooling in the pit of your stomach with just the mere feeling of his lips on your skin.
Swallowing thickly, you gathered your bearings, answering as steadily as you could. “Mar sent me a picture of him earlier. Wanna see?”
“Mmm… I do”, his hold on you tightened the slightest bit. “But your phone’s too far away. Don’t want you to move from here…”
“Always so needy, huh?”
Minho chuckled at that, moving a bit so he could talk in your ear, almost whispering. “Bold of you to say, when your heart’s about to leap out of your chest, huh kitten?”
Caught red-handed. Curse his supernatural hearing… Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to ease all the different burning sensations coursing through you–nervousness, anticipation, lust–they felt like so many it was really hard to tell exactly which one was the most prominent. You had the full intent to reply, something snarky to get him to shut his mouth, but your mind suddenly went blank when you started to feel Minho’s lips on your skin again, pressing slow, tender kisses on your shoulder, and the motions had you tightening your hold on his hand that you were still keeping close to your chest.
The action wasn’t uncommon, either. Just as you cuddled often, you also kissed like this often. Platonically.
Platonically… Right? Was it platonic? It must be, you were just friends after all. Best friends. The bestest of friends.
“You know… Maybe Chris was right”, Minho mumbled between kisses after a while.
“About?” 
“It… Is dangerous for you to be here”.
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Why would it be? I’m fine. Nothing’s happened”.
“Mm… Yet”, Minho’s mouth travelled from your shoulder to your nape, leisurely kissing there, too, and your brain was close to shutting off completely. “The moon… Guess I… Underestimated what it’d do to me with you here”.
He was being a bit cryptic, which wasn’t uncommon when he talked about his lycanthropy, so you wanted to inquire further. “Minho?”
“Mm?” With a deep intake of breath, Minho sighed, almost in the same way you sigh after getting a whiff of your favourite meal, and the action had saliva pooling in your mouth. “Shit, you never believe me when I say it, but you do smell good, kitten. Always do…”
The shiver that ran up and down your spine was impossible to miss. Minho always told you that, you always brushed it off as him teasing you, playing with you, but right now, with how low his voice was, with how deep it got, you couldn’t help but believe him. 
“You know you… Are my favourite person in this world, right?” He murmured against your skin, and the featherlight touch of his lips had your head spinning a bit.
So you decided to poorly attempt to divert the conversation. “What about Jisung?”
Minho chuckled softly, further pressing his chest to you, holding your thumb in his fist as you still kept his hand to your chest. “Completely different feelings”.
“How so? Isn’t he also your friend?”
Minho was quiet for a while, just mindlessly pressing kisses on your skin, until finally, he removed himself from your space, removing his hand from your tight hold with ease, only to push on your shoulder to get you to lay on your back as he hovered over you, propped up on his elbow. The sight of his glowing golden eyes had you almost shivering as he stared deeply into your eyes. That look was raw, intense, and your heart truly felt like it was about to leap out of your chest when he looked at you like this.
“You’re much more than a friend to me. You know that, right?”
You just looked back at him, holding his gaze as best as you could. And as you struggled to do so, you were reminded that, at the end of the day, Minho was still a predator, and even if you trusted him with your life, your body would have a natural, instinctual reaction to his stare. Ultimately, you couldn’t help yourself from moving your gaze away, focusing instead on that mouth of his, on his pouty lips that had plagued your dreams for nights on end, slightly chapped tonight but still just as delectable looking as ever.
“Kitten…” Minho was trying to get your attention back to his eyes, but you just didn’t want to look away, enjoying the way his lips moved with every word that came out of his mouth. “Why are you… Why are you looking at my mouth?”
If there was one certain thing in this world was that Lee Minho was going to be straightforward at any given moment, and this moment–whatever the moment was–was clearly no exception to that rule.
You didn’t say anything right away, just absentmindedly licked your lips as you shamelessly stared, catching the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in your peripheral with the movement. “Just thinking…”
“About?”
“Things I should not be thinking about”.
The tension was palpable. Or were you imagining it? It certainly felt tense to you, but not in an uncomfortable way. You could see how taut his body was as he hovered over you, and as you kept looking at his lips, there was nothing you wanted more than for Minho to make a move. Or should you make a move instead? Maybe you should. But would you be able to deal with the consequences of that? Maybe not. 
It was then, when you were having that struggle within yourself, that you saw his lips move, that you heard him. It was only a whisper, but you were sure you heard him, the sound registering a second too late, a quiet ‘fuck this’ before his lips were on yours, and you couldn’t help the embarrassing sound that escaped your mouth the second his skin made contact with yours.
Heat spread quickly within you, your mouth moving on instinct to match Minho’s almost desperate movements. Even if his lips were slightly chapped, that was the last thing you could care about, you’d get them moist, that was no problem at all. Moving a hand to the back of his head you pulled him further into you, revelling in the groan that escaped his throat the moment your nails lightly scratched his scalp.
Shuffling a bit above you, one of Minho’s legs found its way between yours, his thigh pressing against your core to add the tiniest bit of delicious pressure where you were desperate to feel him most, all as he sneaked his tongue into your mouth. If you were letting out the most embarrassing noises, you didn’t care, not when you could feel him hard and warm against your stomach, not when all you cared about was Minho and his hands on your thigh and his tongue in your mouth and his lips on your own.
“We should…” Minho started to talk, all between pecks of his lips, and it honestly didn’t seem like he wanted to stop kissing you at all. “Should talk about this”.
“We should”, you agreed, also refusing to stop kissing him, starting to shamelessly grind yourself against his thigh, the groan that left his lips as soon as you did adding to that desperate need in your gut. Your hands found their way under his shirt, feeling him up. His lower back, his abdomen, his ribs, his chest, and your touch made him shiver slightly.
Detaching himself from you for a second, Minho took a hold of the back of his shirt, tugging it off of him, only to immediately return his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, eagerly, the bed sheets pooling back behind you two with the motion. Your hands roamed his body, hungry to feel him. It wasn’t like you had never touched him before, but never had you touched him like this, so intimately, so needy.
“Stop me”, Minho pleaded as his lips attached to your neck, sucking and nibbling on your skin, eliciting whines from your mouth, his hand travelling all the way from your thigh to your ribs, holding you tightly in place.
“No”, you replied confidently, because you genuinely didn’t want to stop, not when you finally had a handful of his bum in your hand, not when it all felt so right, so easy, and natural.
“Shit… You… Want this?” His lips returned to yours, almost stealing the air straight out of your lungs with the sheer intensity of his kiss.
“Want you. Only ever wanted you, Minho”.
Minho groaned, his hips lightly bucking into you as soon as your confession reached his ears. “Talk later?” 
“Later”, you nodded in agreement, slightly breathless as you felt him tug on your top, removing it from your body. You could talk about it later. You didn’t want to stop now, not that you knew how his lips on you felt like, how his weight on you felt like.
As soon as your top was off your body Minho’s hands were on your tits, kneading the supple flesh with his hands. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this, fuck… These pretty tits of yours, shit…” His fingers started to tease and tweak your nipples, making you whine against his mouth, making you further press against his thigh. “Sensitive here, huh?”
“Minho, I swear to a God that doesn’t exist, if you don’t get my tits in your mouth right now…”
“Don’t boss me around”, removing himself from your space again, Minho hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts, taking them down and off your legs along with your underwear. Slotting himself between your legs, his fingers found your core, lightly teasing your clit just as he swore under his breath. “If you boss me around you’ll trigger my alpha instincts, is that what you want?”
“What if that happens–” Your words died on your tongue as soon as he started drawing circles on your clit. You couldn’t help but moan, bringing a hand to your mouth to try and muffle yourself as much as you could, considering the rest of his pack was also in the house. 
“Don’t act all innocent on me now, huh? You know exactly what I’d do. And I bet you’d love it, too”, regardless of his pretence banter, his lips closed around one of your nipples, licking your sensitive bud into his mouth, the motions sending sparks of pleasure right down to your core just as he dipped a finger into your entrance.
Minho’s attention on your chest coupled with his digit moving in and out of your core had your mind soaring, had your mind suddenly blank of anything other than him and you on this bed in this room. The more his tongue licked your skin, the more his teeth nibbled your chest, the more fingers he stuffed into you, the more you wriggled under him, whining desperately under his motions. Your hands held onto the bed sheets and his hair to try and keep your mind in the moment, all as you tried your best to not let a single sound out of your mouth louder than you should.
When he was four fingers deep into your cunt, when his thumb started to draw circles on your clit, you just couldn’t wait anymore. You were on the edge of your orgasm and you were feeling desperate for it, but you also had the intense need to feel him within your walls, for him to stretch you with all of him, so you reached for his crotch as best as you could in this position, feeling him up, and your eyes snapped open just by the feel of it.
Minho’s lips released your nipple with an obscene sound, all for him to further buck into your hand as he looked into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly and his teeth sinking on his bottom lip to muffle a groan. It wasn’t like you hadn’t felt him before. There had been occasions… Occasions you both had silently decided to ignore, times when you might’ve woken up cuddled up, and he was suffering the effects of morning wood, but you never let yourself dwell on it too much. Now, though, and enhanced by the fact that he clearly wasn’t wearing anything under his shorts, you were able to feel him completely, and you felt saliva suddenly pool in your mouth.
“Minho…” Swallowing thickly, you tried to feel as much of him as you could. “You… I mean…”
“It’s just… One of those alpha things, you know? Why do you think I got four fingers into you right now, kitten?” He emphasised his words by hammering his fingers harder into you, making you whimper. “Trying to get you ready. Don’t wanna hurt you”.
“Fuck… Is this what turning before puberty did to you?” With shaky hands, you hooked your fingers on the waistband of his shorts, the pace of his fingers slowing down a bit as Minho curiously eyed you. There was some resistance, but when you finally got the garment down enough, you almost whimpered at the sight. “Shit… Even your cock’s pretty, huh Minho?”
Minho chuckled at that, slightly incredulous, but you noticed the blush that spread over his cheeks, and you couldn’t have felt more satisfied. Wrapping your hand around his length, you let out an appreciative hum, stroking him leisurely, enjoying the heavy feel of it in your hand. And before you could say anything else, Minho was back on you, kissing you eagerly, hungrily, making you breathless with his tongue in your mouth and his fingers in your cunt.
“Want you…” Was all you could mumble between kisses, relishing the groan that escaped his mouth as you did.
“Shit, wait”, Minho pulled his fingers out of you, moving away from your mouth to look at you. “There are no condoms in this house”.
The alarm was apparent in his voice, and it rubbed off of you. “You got all kinds of supernatural shit here and you got no condoms?”
“We don’t come to this house to fuck, babe. What do you want me to say?” Minho chuckled, moving away from your space altogether. The sudden lack of his body heat was unpleasant, you wanted it back, desperately. Which was probably why you spoke your next words.
“Are you clean? I am. Haven’t had sex since we went to that place to get tested like… Dunno, months ago”, the implications of your question hung in the air, and Minho’s mouth went slack.
Swallowing, he brought his hands to your thighs, softly caressing your skin. “I am. Also haven’t had sex since then”.
“In that case if you… Uh… If you don’t mind then we can… If you want… You know”, Minho knew you had an implant. Hell, Minho practically had your menstrual cycle memorised, he was the one to save you multiple times throughout High School when you didn’t even know your period would come, always keeping extra pads for you just in case. And even in present day, he had gone with you to get the damn thing put in a handful of months ago, so of course he knew.
If there was anyone in this world that knew anything about you was Minho. Your best friend Minho. Your best friend Minho who you were about to let fuck you raw. And the thought had your mouth watering, you’d admit.
“Shit, are you being serious right now?” Minho leaned into you, and you couldn’t help but take a deep breath as you felt the tip of his length on your bare skin, just as he looked you in the eyes. You nodded, you didn’t think you’d ever been more serious about something in your life than right now. 
“Holy–Am I dreaming or what? Damn… You… Shit…” Taking a hold of his length, he lined himself with your entrance, making you tense in anticipation as you felt his bare skin on yours. “Gonna go slow, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you, hm?”
Minho took his time, going in slowly, letting you adjust to him, and you couldn’t help but furrow your brows at the stretch, biting your lip to suppress a whimper. “Shh, it’s okay…” He mumbled against your cheek, pressing soft pecks on your skin. “Breathe, baby…”
“Mmm, baby…” You mindlessly mumbled back, trying to focus on the feel of his lips on your skin instead of the sting between your legs.
“You like that? Me calling you baby, huh?”
“I do–” Your breath caught in your throat when you felt Minho’s hips flush against you, when he bottomed out, swallowing almost loudly at how full you felt. “Maybe embarrassingly so…”
“No need to feel embarrassed, kitten. I like calling you baby, too”, he looked you in the eyes, taking you in. Slowly, you saw how the golden glow of his eyes dissipated, leaving his brown irises behind. Bringing a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb softly caressed your skin, and you suddenly felt yourself flush under his heavy gaze. “You’re so gorgeous, huh? And cute. Pretty. Always… Only ever wanted you, too”.
“You did?”
“Hm… Still do”, he confirmed before leaning in, pressing his lips to yours to kiss you again, slowly, sensually, and you couldn’t help but clench around him when he did, making him chuckle for a moment as you kissed.
You just held onto him, caressing the planes of his back, feeling the goosebumps that rose on his flesh under your touch. Even when you could feel his bare skin against yours, his bare skin within you, you couldn’t even believe this was real, it was happening. You were lying here, with your best friend’s cock buried deep within your walls, kissing him, and your mind was almost spinning, dizzy with that realisation. 
You needed Minho to move. If he didn’t move soon you feared you might actually die right there out of the intense need you felt for him, so you rolled your hips, murmuring a soft ‘move, babe’ against his lips. So he did, starting a slow, borderline teasing pace, working you up, letting you get used to the movement.
“Fuck, I like when you call me babe, too”, he looked you in the eyes, picking up his pace. “Love the way your cunt’s hugging my cock, baby, so good… Been dreaming about this, too, you know? How you would feel, and it’s so, so much better than I could’ve ever imagined”.
“You–You were?”
“Mm, I was”, sitting back on his heels, Minho threw one of your legs over his shoulder, the change of angle made it so his cock grazed that sensitive spot within your walls, making you curl your toes and see stars with each thrust of his hips, and the second his thumb pressed on your clit, you knew you were too far gone, panting heavily at the onslaught of sensations that Minho was bestowing upon you.
“Promise I’ll go harder later, hm? I know you want that, for me to ruin you”, you didn’t think you could flush further, but you felt heat on your face, and your belly tightening with the words that came out of his mouth. “But I want it like this now, kitten. Wanna enjoy you like this. Is that okay?”
His thumb on your clit sped up, and you almost choked on your words with the sudden change, even when he was still thrusting slow, but deep. You simply nodded, eagerly, holding his gaze confidently as that knot in the pit of your stomach got tighter with each and every one of his motions. “Just want you…” was all you could muster as your hand reached to softly caress his abdomen, feeling his muscles tightening and relaxing with each thrust.
“Mmm… So beautiful”, removing his thumb from your clit he brought it to your lips. “Lick it, baby. Make it as wet as you can for me, hm?” So you did, coating the tip of his thumb in your saliva only for him to return it to your clit, for him to start quickly rubbing circles on your sensitive bud, making you throw your head back with the sudden onslaught. 
“Minho, babe… Please, want to…” 
“Come on, baby… Give it to me, wanna feel you…” With a few more flicks of his thumb on your clit, you finally came, bringing your hand to your mouth so you could muffle the desperate moans that were about to come out of your mouth, relishing the heat you felt course through your body as Minho kept fucking into you.
With the effects of your orgasm, the rhythm of his hips was becoming more and more erratic, his face contorting in pleasure as he chased his own release. Reaching for the hand he kept on your pubic bone after you came, you placed your hand on top of his, bringing his attention back from where he had been looking at his cock disappearing between your walls to your eyes. “Want you to come on me, wanna feel you, please…”
“Shit, kitten…” Taking a hold of your hips, Minho held you tightly, giving you a diluted taste of that strength you knew he had but he was holding back on, of that strength you were surely going to beg him to release on you later, just as he gave a few more thrusts, working himself up closer to his climax.
In one final swift movement, Minho pulled out of your heat, wrapping his hand around his length and bringing himself to completion right on top of your abdomen, and, biting on his bottom lip to dampen obscene sounds of his own, he finally came, thick ropes of his cum soiling your torso, all the way from your navel to your tits. It was so much, you knew werewolves were biologically different from human males, but you were surprised at the amount, the sudden warmth making your head spin, making you wonder how it would feel when he came inside of you, in your cunt, in your mouth… 
Breathing heavily, Minho looked down at you, his eyes raking your form, covered in his seed, a flush settling all the way from his chest to his neck. Immediately, he was on you, kissing you deeply, mumbling words of ‘so, so pretty covered in my cum, so pretty…’ between pecks of his lips that had you flushing impossibly further.
Moving away from you, he took a hold of the first garment he could find, using it to wipe his cum off of your body, throwing somewhere right after only to finally plop down next to you, still panting a bit and staring at the ceiling. You did pretty much the same, lying there staring at the ceiling, but you did reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers with his, revelling in the way he held yours tightly in his, just as a comfortable silence fell between you two.
After a while, Minho spoke. “Did you mean it?”
You turned to him, looking at his side profile, looking at the relaxed expression on his face. “Mean what, baby?”
“Only ever wanted me?” Minho turned to you, with a soft smile on his lips, giving your hand a squeeze.
You felt yourself blush, but you smiled at him regardless. “Mm… Only you, baby”.
“Me too”, letting go of your hand, Minho pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly against his chest, and you could only melt into his embrace, inhaling deeply, basking in his presence. “I’m glad you came with us today. Was a bit worried at first, but now… Now I’m super glad you came, honestly…” He mumbled against your hair, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You’re just happy you got laid”, you were joking of course, teasing him a bit as you caressed his back.
Minho laughed at that, bringing a hand to your rear to fondle one of your buttcheeks. “Only ‘cause I got laid with you, dummy”.
Chuckling, you draped your leg over his hip, pushing on his shoulder to get him to lay down and for you to straddle him. Looking down at him, your hands dragged all the way from his shoulders to his pecks, squeezing him a bit before they continued their path to his abdomen, the motion bringing a smirk to Minho’s face. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”
“What exactly? I said a lot of things, kitten”, Minho’s hands came to your waist, dragging all the way down after to fondle your hips.
“That you were gonna go harder later?”
“You do want me to ruin you, huh? Shameless”.
You chuckled, shuffling a bit so you could press yourself to his length, and your eyes went wide and your eyebrows rose high on your face. He was hard already, and the surprise must’ve been obvious on your face, because Minho simply shrugged, moving his hands to cup your bum. “You do smell so good, and the full moon is not making it any easier on me, cut me some slack”.
“Minho, babe, listen… And I mean this seriously. It’s important”, Minho went serious, looking at your face intently, giving you his undivided attention. “I need you to fuck me in every possible way you can and more, I’ve been waiting too long. If you don’t I might actually die”.
Minho scoffed, smirking as he tightened his hold on your rear, making you squeal with the sudden movement, with the strength of his hold. “Oh, kitten… Baby, you have no idea what you’ve just asked for. Good luck trying to stand up from this bed tomorrow when I’m done with you”.
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Author’s Notex2: if you’re curious as to why Chris looked like he’d just won Millionaire when he came down to the kitchen, you can check out Love is Easy.
if you want to read more of this couple, check out Dog Unleashed.
© therhythmafterthesummer 2022-2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.
Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)
Minho’s WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves · Dog Unleashed · Are You There, Wolf?
1K notes · View notes
ukranianacearo · 2 months
Text
"Mother", a strong word
Part 2 Part 3
F!reader
Word count: almost 4k
Mention of Innocent zero's real name.
Tw: Mentions of starvation, enslavement (like what Russian empire did to Ukrainians back in 18-19th centuries), mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of birth, harrasing, and attempts at SA and I think that's all. Please, do inform me if you see more.
Pairing: romantically there's none, but reader has to marry Innocent zero.
Genre(?): angst.
Tags: @aiscreamcake (I thought you would be interested)
Author's note: This has been rotting in my brain for over a week and @fellow-anime-weeb927 post only strengthened this lol. Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't recheck it before posting and English isn't my first language. More under cut.
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Escaping the empire would be dangerous and risky. But even death would be better than what you had to endure. Your nation has been occupied and enslaved by another nation for centuries already, poisoning your people's minds, destroying your culture and language and killing those who were against the system. You weren't a person. At least wasn't considered one. Your lord, the one who owned your family, was a cruel man. Not only towards you and your family, but even to his own kids and his ill wife. When times got tough even for him, you were only 5. His wife's condition worsened, she got bedridden; there even was talks about her possible death. It was the first time he tried forcing himself on you. Fortunately for you, you escaped. Times got worse with the arrival of international market. Selling got worse and so did your family's condition. Your lord paid less and less, to the point where your family starved for days, sometimes even weeks. The first to die was your youngest brother; he was only 3 years old when he died of starvation, you were 6. Two months later, your mother died. The same cause, the same ground buried her. There has started to run rumors about the lord marrying you, since his wife will die soon and he had kids to take care of. Your father had no say in it, after all, you and your family are nothing more, but his property.
You were 7, your oldest brother died at the age of 17. He too, died of starvation. After a few months, your last brother died, at the age of 16. You and your father were devastated, but you only could bury your brother next to your other two brother and your mother. One of the days, you heard your lord talking with his friends about some ships taking people to another land, to another country. But, it was really risky, you could die from any cause there; not that it mattered to you, you could never even imagine having the money to buy tickets for you and your father. So you just continued working. A year passed, then another and now you're 9. One of the evenings, your father didn't come back and you started worrying. You had nowhere to go and seek him, but the lord's house. When you arrived at the door of the house, it was open and you could see your father and the lord talking about something. While trying to focus on what they were saying, you leaned slightly against the door, making sure it didn't move nor made any sound. It was muffled, but you could understand that they were discussing your marriage with the lord. Your father tried to reason that you were just too young for the lord, you only 9, after all. But the lord didn't care.
That day, you lost your father and killed your lord. That day was also the second time your lord trying to force himself on you.
You buried your father next to the graves of your family members the best you could. It was the middle of the night and lord's kids were sleeping in their respective homes, since most of them were old enough to have it. Not caring about lord's dead corpse laying on the floor of his house, you took the money there was; you didn't know how much a ticket to the other country would cost, but even if you had more than needed, it was better to have more than less.
...
The travel wasn't pleasant at all, but you finally was here. Most people at the port called it The Magic Empire. You didn't know if it was because there was actually magic and people could use it without being punished or if it was because people's dreams and wishes would be satisfied. Noticing that many people had some lines on their faces, you didn't want to stick out so you decided to use your necklace. Clenching it in your hand you increased the zone affected by it. Feeling their magic power being stored in the necklace, you changed the course and way of the magic in the necklace to create an illusion of a mark similar to the people around you. As you put the hood of medieval cloak on your head, you start going in the city; the cloak covering your figure completely, hiding the broken clothes you wore; a pair of pants and a T-shirt.
...
In the past 5 months you lived in the Magic Realm, as people from here called it. You were fortunate enough to know the language that people speak here, since you learned it from a dictionary someone threw out while you were still living in your home country. But, life was still challenging, of course. Although, 'challenging' would be an underrating. This realm worked such as higher your magic power - higher your status. So, you had to lie, to live a lie; you didn't have your own magic, you only could use or manipulate magic that you 'stole' with the necklaces. If you stole it by defeating a person, that person's magic was copied by one of the necklaces, and if you 'stole' it by just increasing the area that was under the necklaces' cancellation of magic, you could use a person's magic for as long as they were in the area + a certain amount of time after they were out. In these past month you have worked as anything you could: cleaning people's shoes, selling newspaper, running errands for people, etc... You did your best and most of the errands were done perfectly, and your employers were satisfied with your work, paying you a bonus every now and then. You tried to save as much as possible while still eating something at least once a day. Your plan was to go to a middle magic school, but to do so you would need to deceive many people and even the government, so that they could think that you had actually alive parents, at least. For that, you would need to defeat someone who possessed a mind controlling power and you only had three years to do so: that's when middle school start.
...
It was easier than you thought. That boy really thought he could use you as a punching bag, but ironically, he was the one laying on the cold and dusty ground. Now, you're one step closer to succeeding.
...
This mind controlling magic was actually something. You carefully created a well written story for your play, the realm your stage and everyone the audience. The school you wanted to go accepted you, just like you planned. And thus, the played started.
...
No one has suspected a thing. Which feels kind of weird. But you decide to continue the show, there's nothing else to do.
...
The middle school was good, it had bedrooms for every pair of students, a kitchen and many more things. Just a perfect entrance of a grand show.
...
Few years past by, and it's time to decide the academy where you'll go. There were three options, the ones that will appreciate the show. Easton Magic Academy, Walkis Magic Academy and Saint Ars Holy Magic Academy; in Saint Ars, rules are most important thing and rule breakers are punished harshly. Definitely not for you: you would be considered a criminal at this point. Walkis focused only on strength which is also not the best, tho this academy produced the most divine visionaries at this point. So, you're left with Easton Magic academy.
...
The entrance exam was pretty easy. After that you were assigned to the Orca dorm. Not bad. You can work with this.
...
Eyes. No matter where you went, they followed you, like the hunting past. Were you in class, in the kitchen, training or even in the deep past, you remember eyes following you like a predator. When you were in middle magic academy, you didn't have time to ponder about it at all. Nor when you were doing errands for someone to earn extra money. Sometimes, when you tried to look at the one who was the person with such intense curiosity, you only saw white hair of a passerby, who you guessed was your classmate. Trying to follow that person was impossible, it's like they disappeared the moment you approached the place where magic lingered the most. It haunted you. You had a guess who it was, but with no evidence, you could do nothing, but try to be careful around that person. Cyril Marcus. He was the only one who had those long white locks. And his magic... Rather he used basic spells or his personal time magic or even if he didn't use any at all, you could always sense that difference between his magic and the magic of other people. When a person's potential is great in terms of magic, you can sense their magic differently. But this scared you very much. Even if you knew that your necklaces worked on him as well, you were scared. Better treat a gun as a loaded gun and not as a non loaded one. He seemed much eager to fight against you in the tournament for divine visionaries' candidates.
...
Your fight against him just ended. You won. After all, he was nothing without his magic. But, in your opinion, he was more testing you than fighting you. Right now, it was break time before continuing with the tournament. As you sat on one of the couches in the room, you clenched the necklace in your hand. The other three core necklaces were still deep inside your skin, in the same spot, even after all these years. The square body of the necklaces had some difficult artistic style. You still couldn't figure out which one exactly, but it resembled the baroque style very much. The black hook that was on one of the edges of every body wasn't as delicate as it seemed, just like the black chain that went through it, embracing your neck loosely.
-"You seemed so brave out there, but look at you now." - You snapped your head towards him, the look of shock on your face making him chuckle. His mocking tone didn't help, as it made you more uncomfortable. But you were used to the feeling, so you didn't let it show just like always. - "Don't look at me like that, it makes me think that you didn't expect me." - Deciding to play safe you calmed down your expression to a neutral one and let go of the necklace.
- "What do you want?" - There was no need for chit chat, especially between you two. You two weren't on bad terms exactly, but you weren't friends either. Still, your suspicion about him being the person who stalks you was present on your mind.
- "You're so straightforward, as always."
- "It's better to save the time and energy used to talk about nothing." - As you crossed you arms across your chest while Cyril smiled in that typical sly smile, although to you, it looked more like a smirk.
- "This...show that you play in front of everyone is quite the spectacle. I must admit, it took me a while to see the truth."
- "What are you talking about?" - In this type of situations it's better to play dumb. You couldn't afford for the show to end just yet. It would be a fiasco. Anyway, how did he figure it out? Has he been stalking you for so long just because of that? You made sure he couldn't see your thoughts on your face.
- "Don't play dumb. We both know what I'm talking about. At first I thought you were just a 'Disgraceful Mage', just to find out later that you are magicless. I must admit, your cover is good enough to make me think about you and your magic for quite the years. This fight in particular has confirmed my suspicion. Your necklace isn't just an accessory, am I right?" - His words froze you as he pointed at your necklace. The situation got to the point where you couldn't just deny your way out.
- "It would have been better if you continued thinking that I was a 'Disgraceful Mage'..." - You mumbled, making Cyril look at you with a curious smirk. - "What do you want from me? You wouldn't be here just to talk with me, would you?" - You tried to stay calm, but it was the first time someone saw past your costume. Instead of the character in the play, he saw the actor. You already realized why he was going in circles while fighting. He was out of the zone affected by the necklace, so he still could see magic power. Truly, that potential you saw in him would be enough to end your show.
- "Don't worry that much, I wouldn't want for the show to end just yet. After all, you could call me the most loyal fan of your spectacle. Who else would sit and watch it, while seeing your true form and not the character's?" - It was as is he read your thoughts with magic, although it was impossible, your necklace still worked around you. - "I don't mind your magicless nature, but what about others?" - He slowly walked closer and sat on the couch in front of you - "I'm sure you know they wouldn't accept you if they knew, otherwise you wouldn't be putting this good of a performance. How convenient that I have just the offer for you, wouldn't you say so? You see, I plan on becoming the perfect human, but for that I need to find more knowledge and strong allies."
- "What do I have to do with all of that?" - The palms of your hands have started sweating, but you still somehow managed to act calm enough. Hearing your words, Cyril smirked slyly and put his leg on the other.
- "We both know that magic users tend to rely very much on magic - myself included - and you're someone who shifts their situation a lot with just a lift of your hand. Or even without it. As years went on, you taught yourself to manipulate that necklace very well. When the time will come, I want you to join my association and plan. Of course, I, on my end, will make sure the government won't get you." - It was tempting, but the actor can't just disappear from the stage, it wouldn't be fair. You clenched your left wrist with your hand as you looked at him a bit troubled, trying to stay calm. Seeing your hesitation, Cyril chucked. - "Don't worry. I will give you time to think about it. But when I'll come for an answer, I hope you'll have it." - He said as he got up, walking towards the door in his usual slow and elegant way. You wanted to answer, say at least something. But it felt as if the words got stuck in your throat, sinking in your stomach, leaving you alone with your thoughts haunting you, trying to come up with something, anything. - "So long, dear actress." - He left the room as the voice of a commentator announced the break time over. You were left alone, looking at the floor while your thoughts got to you. How could you afford such a mistake? Your performance was supposed to be perfect, without even the slightest flaw. Clenching the necklace you tried not to let emotions get the best of you. Even if there was a break between the acts, the actor shouldn't forgot that they're an actor. People are supposed to only see the character that they portrait, not the person behind it. One person in the audience saw the actor as they are, but that shouldn't matter. Especially when the person continues to watch the show peacefully.
...
- "Tell me, Cell war," - You started while watching your 'son' in the tank, or better say, in an incubator. Cell war, who was a creation of Innocent zero, turned to look at you patiently, waiting for you to continue. In the past years, Cyril Innocent zero really weird choice of name got to know that for achieving his goal to become "The Perfect Human", he needed six hearts of blood related family. That's how you got to this scene of the show. The audience changed, but the actor and that one specific person stayed the same people, probably. He mixed his DNA with your to create a life. You promised yourself that no matter what, your 'sons' won't live as bad or even worse than you; you would not allowe it as long as you breathe. - "How do you feel about his plan?"
- "If it's something 'father' wants, then it should be done."
...
- "You shouldn't be up this late." - You said in a scolding voice while standing behind the four young boys that stood outside your bedroom door.
- "Mother!" - They four said in unison, as they turned around to look at you. Fanim and Delisaster immediately went to hug you by your legs, since they didn't reach any higher yet, while Doom and Epidem stood by your sides taking your hands in theirs. They all seemed very exited and happy to see you again.
- "We wanted to see you the day you came back from this mission, so we stayed up." - Doom explained in a shy manner. You patted their heads as you hummed, giving a sign of acknowledgement.
- "That's very sweet of you, boys. But you shouldn't lose sleep just because of me. Sleep is fundamental for your health." - You answered in a caring voice, you truly couldn't be angry at them for long. Hearing your words, they looked between each other and then all looked at you.
- "But, mother is also very important for our health." - Delisaster started.
- "You train and play with us." - Doom continued.
- "You don't get angry at us for the slightest mistake and explain everything that we ask you to." - then Fanim continued.
- "And you give us all kinds of sweets." - Epidem finished. You were shocked. All of them were still so young, but understood so much. It wasn't uncommon in your experience, many kids you knew from the streets when you were younger had to grow up too soon - yourself included. But these four boys didn't live that life. Your best guess was that they were so aware of everything because of Innocent zero, their father. You smiled softly at them as you hugged them all.
- "What would I do without you guys, hm?" - They basked in your attention. - "But you gotta go to sleep now, it's already late." - Hearing that they whined in unison, but obeyed and you guided them to their rooms.
...
- "Did you see mother?" - Delisaster asked Doom, as the later was sharpening his sword. The former couldn't find you for a while now and he really wanted to show you one his new tricks with his pole arms.
- "Did you not know yet? She fell into a coma." - Doom tried to act as calm as possible, but in reality he was devastated. The fact that you just fainted out of nowhere wasn't positive at all, especially for the sons. There was no logical explanation for this and no one could figure it out. The ones who were probably affected the least were Domina and Mash, who were still too young to understand it. The room fell into silence's embrace as Delisaster tried to process the devastating information he just learned.
...
- "Domina, you should be useful. That's what mother and I would want. You understand, right?" - His sly tone of voice echoed in the small dark room that could barely be called a bedroom. He stood in front of Domina, looking at the small boy from his height. - "We must do it so that mother can wake up. Do you want her to wake up? Domina."
- "Yes, father." - The small boy looked pitiful. His pink-ish hair was cut just above his shoulders with bangs covering his eyebrows. He was just around 5 years old, yet he seemed as if he didn't eat enough. Domina's was determined to do anything to help his mother regain consciousness and make his father proud. What he didn't understand was that, he shouldn't be the one to fight for it.
...
- "I see you still don't understand, Mash Burndead. If you continue to fight against it, mother won't wake up." - Doom said as he blocked one of Mash's punches.
- "I don't know that mother much, but I'm sure that destroying the world won't help wake her up." - Mash answered in a usual monotone voice as he punched Doom in the abdomen.
...
- "Who is she?" - asked a tall man with white hair and a big sword at his hip.
- "She was retrieved from the castle. Supposedly Innocent zero mixted his DNA with hers to create the six sons. Her name is [Y/N] [L/N]. She studied in Easton Magic Academy back in the days alongside me and Innocent zero. Was reported missing by some acquaintances after graduation. Later on was discovered that she lied to the government, a lot." - Another tall and old man with grey hair answered.
- "So she's also Mash's biological mother... I wonder why she joined Innocent zero in his plan." - The tall man with the sword murmured.
- "I'm sure Innocent zero had some cards in his sleeves to play to manipulate her. She wouldn't go for such length just because of someone else's desires. Especially Innocent zero's, she couldn't care less about the man."
- "Maybe she was in love with him." - The tall man with the sword suggested turning his head slightly to look at the old man. Right after the man finished his sentence, the old one started laughing; when he finished laughing he sighed and started talking.
- "That's impossible, Kaldo. Not even love potions could make her feel something so deep. She herself said that she was unable to feel such love since birth; her brain lacked in that part. I guess she had a secret that the world shouldn't know and Innocent zero knew it."
- "Like what?" - the curiosity got the better out of the man with the sword.
- "Hmm, I don't know. We should ask her after she wakes up. For now, call Mash; I wanna talk with him." - The man with the sword bowed and walked out of the door, while the old man continued looking at the woman in the nurse bed. - "Mother, such a strong word, huh..."
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And that's it :D I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. If you want to be added into the tag list, please comment.
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visceravalentines · 3 months
Text
a little something I wrote last night instead of going to sleep
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sometimes he sleeps in the church.
on the nights when he can't shut off the TV because then he'll have to listen to the house. on the nights when he drinks so hard he can't see straight and he thinks too clearly. on the nights when he runs his fingers through a candle flame and considers sending it all up in smoke.
he makes his way down the hill, blind, blind drunk. the path is so familiar he doesn't think about his footsteps. the door is heavy and it creaks and every time, every single time, he remembers showing up late to mass when he was fourteen. he remembers that door creaking. he remembers his mama turning in her seat. he doesn't bother remembering what came after.
it's dark in there, even on a full moon night. the stained glass windows aren't real. the place is a tomb. the air is thick and stale and smells of decay and the faintest trace of incense, still. he taps his hand on the backrest of each pew as he passes and remembers who used to sit there every sunday. remembers who sits there now. the most faithful congregation in the country.
he doesn't think about god, or his sins. that's not why he's here. and if he's honest--which he's not--he never thinks about them. never has. some things are important to him. god is missing from that list, among other places.
the sinclair family never sat on the front row, but now it's reserved just for them. and now he's the only one who comes. he sinks onto the bench and sits with the sound of his own breathing heavy in his ears. sometimes he stops for a few seconds and holds the rot in his lungs and pretends he's dead like the rest of them. he lets the silence seep into his bones and unclenches his fists. he disappears to a different place, a quiet one, where his brain stops buzzing and his skin fits right.
and she's there, right in front of him. he doesn't need to see her to feel her, to feel the memory of her nails on his skin, to feel the pull of mother to child. to know she knows he's there. he sits in the dark and holds his breath and swings in her gravity with such force it makes him sick.
he misses her hair. he misses her voice. he misses the way she smelled the times she hugged him. he chews his lip and wants things to be different. the wanting never goes away no matter how good of a liar he is. no matter how empty it feels.
he doesn't speak to her, on nights like this. she never cared to listen to him anyway.
he lays down on his back on the pew. it's not comfortable. that's not why he's here. he folds his hands on his chest and feels cold. somewhere in the black above his eyes the ceiling hangs, vaulted and impenetrable. somewhere in the black at his side his mother lies perfect, sleeping. somewhere in the black of time a little boy has a nightmare and no one to console him.
he sleeps there, sometimes, and his sleep is as dreamless as death.
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onmyyan · 8 months
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Hi I have cowboy brain rot permanently 👐✨ I'm so full of ideas abt him. You move into town and Spring is beautiful in the country, and the community seems tight-knit. So close in fact that dinner parties or potlucks are common- usually it would be church potlucks but who cares honestly. The real kicker is he called in a favor to host and then begs you for help, only for it to get weirdly domestic while you're helping get ready. He directs all compliments to you and is schmoozing so much that you're not surprised that people seem to think you're his girlfriend - by the end of the night, you are, anyway.
And then summer rolls around and you're sun tanning and getting a visit from Ash- you explain you might as well since you can't get cool in the house, the ac got busted somehow (there's an Ash's boot-shaped dent that he's a little ashamed of, but your grandmother is out of town, and he's with you, so there's no real danger- and now he gets to install a better one later.) He offers to take you to a swimming hole on his land, just the two of you. It's the perfect place to confess (some) of his love for you.
Eventually in the fall, your grandma starts hinting you should move in with him, and then outright demanding it of you, and you wonder when she got so progressive. But it becomes clear that it's just because shes getting older and is convinced that you're already married, and it's upsetting her that you're leaving him lonely. So it feels a little early, but you move in for her wishes, reassuring yourself you're still close by if she needs you. She is a little confused in her older age, but it's at least partially because Ash has been telling her y'all were married and he missed you.
And finally, it's Christmas- you've been living with him for a while, and none of your prospects outside of town panned out- jobs you applied for didn't get back to you, certification programs didn't reply, and your connections with friends back home seem to have dried up. Your last living relation in town passes, and it's up in the air (at least in your mind) if you'll be leaving - there's nothing holding you here by familial obligation, but now you have nowhere else to go. Ashley convinces you to stay with him- you couldn't keep your grandmother's house due to debt, and with no back up available outside of town, you really don't have any other choice but to stay right where you are. You aren't aware of how many favors he's called in to make things go the way they have for you, how many messages and job offers he's intercepted, just to keep you.
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Me @ you because You've fed us all with this ask my lawd you are so talented I LOVE THIS Ashley subtle but absolutely diabolical manipulation, his smoothness with his yandere actions, how you'd have no idea what hit you by the time he got a ring on your pretty finger
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jojikawa · 10 months
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Helooo 🥹 i just read ur sangwoo x killier!reader It was like 😽🤌🏻 *chefs kiss* But!! Can your write one like with a killer!reader but like reader kills him i think that would be very interesting👀 its fine if you ignore this! <333
I love this idea! I could see this happening! This was supposed to be the original idea but I knew I couldn’t kill Sangwoo, so I turned it into a mini series. I’m glad you enjoy it 🥺❤️
𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑰 𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑰 𝑫𝑨𝑰𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑰
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All you wanted in life was to feel something. You lived life so far removed from everyone in your life and unfortunately, your parents never understood. As a child, you never received any help for your lack of emotional expression. It was just treated as you being ungrateful and bitter. If only you got the help you needed.
These feelings of apathy festered and your desire to feel raw emotion became more and more greater, forming a burning passion. A passion that would blacken the skin of your victims, making you smile as their flesh melted from their skin. You didn’t know what love was but you wanted it so badly. To be close to someone.
You consumed so much media that would sell you a false sense of what finding love was like and it rotted your developing brain. Despite not being in any relationships, you watched videos on how to replicate love, almost like it was training for a job. You had to be ready to love. You had to. 
And one day, your world was turned upside down. 
You enrolled in college in Korea. You enjoyed the culture and felt better continuing your pursuit of love far away from your place of origin. That was romantic…right? Was that romance? 
In school, you met a man. The first person to give you attention. You remembered the days you spent browsing the internet and reading iterations of love you couldn’t experience.
Oh Sangwoo.
That was his name. His words made your stomach burn with delight. Your face would heat up at his subtle touch and how he would treat your pretty skin. He made you feel small and protected when you never even needed it. This was love, right?
Yes, this was love. 
On the boy’s end, he thought that you were the perfect victim for his needs. You were different from most girls. Your experiences with love and men were extremely limited. He enjoyed the idea of a pure girl with little to no connections, in a country she’s not native to with a man he could easily take her and no one would know. No one would care, actually. He knew this because he knew people.
Or, he thought he knew people.
You were just…different. He believed all women to be the same. To be like his mother…but you weren’t. You didn’t lie to him. He told you how it was. You barely knew him but you accepted him for what he was. You never pestered him when he would lie to you about the girls he was killing. You were an expert at pleasing a man as well. He’s never met a woman who’s felt as good as you. Not a woman who could take his cock so well. He was supposed to kill you but every time the day would come, the feeling would disappear. You were so small compared to him. It would only take a second to drive a knife into your neck, a second to get on top of you and close your throat with his bare hands and another second to completely dismember you and hide you in the woods.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t kill you.
You filled a void of too much he was missing. Life was so perfect because of you. The two of you did everything together and he still had time to kill those when he felt like it. That changed when you moved in as well. He wanted to keep things pure. He wanted you to love him as the person he presented himself as and never his real self. He stopped killing women.
Then Yoon Bum showed up. It reignited his hate for those beneath him. Sangwoo imprisoned Yoon Bum as punishment. The last person he killed would be a man.
You didn’t know of Yoon Bum. Sangwoo did a good job at hiding it, though, the feelings you held didn’t change. That was his first and only mistake. Today was the day.
Sangwoo held you close. He got home from a day at the restaurant, waiting tables and missing you so damn much. You greeted him with dinner and your sweet insides before a night of cuddling. He adored how your smaller frame and how hidden it was whenever you wore one of his oversized shirts. They almost fit you like dresses but you looked way more charming. No bra or panties underneath. It was a pleasant surprise every time he got ahold of you. That’s when it happened. 
Sangwoo awoke in the middle of the night. You weren’t in his arms, so he went to look for you. You couldn’t have gone far and you didn’t. He found you in the kitchen. It was dark and when he reached to flip the light on, it didn’t work. 
“What are you doing up so late?” The man asked you, his groggy voice invading your ears. You didn’t expect him to wake but this was fine. “I was just hungry. I can’t find any snacks, though. We should go shopping soon.” You smiled sweetly, hands behind your back. There was nothing in the room illuminating you but he could still tell you were smiling. “Sure, I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He replied, making his way over to you. He held you tight as he took in the scent you always wore. It was faint but he still loved it all the same. 
“Whatever I want?” You repeated. He noticed that you didn’t return his embrace. “Yes, whatever you want, because I love you.” 
“You love me?”
“Yes.”
“I…I love you too.”
It was at that moment that Sangwoo felt a sharp pain in his stomach. You suddenly became heavier as you leaned against him…or was his body just growing weaker? He let go of you, immediately falling to the floor. He’s never felt pain like this before.
As he fell to the ground, he saw the blood coating your shirt. His eyes finally adjusted to the dark. You held a kitchen knife in your hand. You dropped to your knees, scooting over towards him before plunging it in and out of his abdomen. He was your perfect victim. A man like him, murdered by a woman. The woman he loved. You proved everything right that you felt about love but no one else could have that. Not even the world.
“I love you, Oh Sangwoo! I love you too! I love you so, so much!”
So the world wouldn’t have him.
You turned his body into a beautiful flower. The man resisted as best as he could but you hit his vital organs very fast. The strength left his body as he began to go limp. He was losing blood too fast to do anything to you. It didn’t help that he always viewed you as weak. He never believed that you were capable of such things.
Killed. In the dark. By someone smaller than him.
Now, it was time for the rat.
“Bum~?” 
The young man heard his name called through the door. He had been staying in the basement as he always had but it was very unheard of for you to talk to him like that. He knew you despised him.
Bum didn’t answer you. The pit of anxiety forming in his abdomen was growing ever more present. If he had any strength, he would hold the door shut but—
knock knock knock
“You don’t mind if I come in there do you?”
Your muffled voice held no anger; just a slight eagerness. It sounded as if you wanted to show him something. Bum was easy. He wanted to be scared of you but Sangwoo was someone he was always afraid of, but he loved him…even if there was never anything between them.
“What am I saying…?” You laughed quietly. “Of course I can come in.”
You entered the basement on your own. Bum was able to get a look at you, as the lights in the living area were now on and shining down into the basement. You were covered in blood, your hair was messy and you had visible bruising on your face and limbs. Sangwoo must’ve put up a fight in his last moments…
His stomach turned when he saw that your face had no remorse. Only your lips were curved into a sweet smile with your eyes wide like saucers.
“I’m sorry about Oh Sangwoo.” You uttered, almost robotically. “I know what he did to you.” You slowly walked over to him before planting yourself on the moist ground beside him.
“Wh-Why? Didn’t y-you love him?” He peeped, refusing to make eye contact with you. Your head snapped over to him. “Of course, I did. I love my Sangwoo. My Oh Sangwoo. The thing is…”
Bum gulped. “What…?”
“…did you love him too?”
He immediately began to shake his head. “No! No! I promise I didn’t.”
“Oh…” You sighed as your smile fell. Your eyes became half lidded and you began to blink slowly. Bum sighed too. It was a sigh of relief. His heart was pounding.
Slice!
“AAAAUUUUUUUUUUGGGGH!”
“Why do you lie, Yoon Bum?” You asked calmly. You ignored his continuous screaming as you went on. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love my Oh Sangwoo. He was an idiot sometimes, but he was honest with me…he told me who you were, why you’re here…and how he caught you.” 
Your hand twitched with anger as you plunged the knife deeper into Yoon Bum’s abdomen.
“My Sangwoo would never love a lowly being like you. You are lying scum.”
You turned Bum into a flower too. It wasn’t as pretty or fun as Oh Sangwoo but it was necessary.
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ystrike1 · 2 months
Text
For a Fairytale Ending - By Joowinter (7/10)
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I can only recommend this one for otome isekai fans. It won't appeal to anyone else. Its a very slow wish fulfillment fantasy with a "simpleminded" protagonist and enough cliches to fill a book. It's cute, and horrible, and the best characters are the villains. If you like the creepy/cute vibe it's passable.
Alice Estevan is a reincarnated....nope! She has The Eyes of Wisdom! She remembers her previous lives, and she can kinda see the future. The problem is her ability is too overpowered, and it takes a massive toll on her health. Alice Estevan thinks she's a twentysomething BL fan trapped inside a novel, but her brain just isn't big enough to handle her godly blessing.
She's secretly an Imperial Princess.
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Her mother is a nut tho. Karina is a former maid who managed to marry a Duke after his wife cheated on him. Alice Estevan isn't even his daughter. Karina just brought her in from a "previous relationship".
Karina is absolutely evil and a child abuser to boot. The Duke married her after his wife's betrayal because he is a thousand times worse. They are a fitting "couple" who think of power and nothing else.
Alice Estevan has to navigate around completely crazy adults to survive.
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Her doctor, Evan, is her solace. Evan eventually introduces her to his younger brother, Micheal. Both brothers have divine powers, and they help Alice Estevan heal. Without them she would have become a very bitter and illness ridden child.
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Edwin actually is the Duke's son. The previous Duchess did not cheat. He was born with black hair because Karina used expensive dark magic power to change his appearance. The Duchess also died during childbirth, because Karina was her handmaiden at the time. She was being fed multiple poisons during her pregnancy.
Edwin is locked away in a tower, and Karina abuses him with a whip.
Why is he there?
Why would the cruel Duke keep some unknown bastard from his dead wife?? Plus some unknown bastard from his second wife???
Karina thinks she's smart, and a true villainess. However, she's just a pawn.
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Karina tries to poison Alice, her own daughter, because she's a sick freak.
Micheal gets hurt instead, so Alice decides to expose the black hair trick.
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Karina is banished.
Edwin is released from his prison tower thanks to Alice, who he is now obsessed with.
The thing is...Alice isn't a genius.
How did this work out so well?
Is Alice really heading towards a happy ending, or is it all a trap?
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First things first we should establish that Edwin isn't a nice guy. He tries to kill Michael multiple times....by rotting him from the inside out with dark magic. Micheal doesn't notice though. Michael has alot of Divine Power. In another future Edwin and Michael would have been toxic lovers, but now of course Edwin loves his bastard non-blood sister.
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There's a time skip and reality starts to crack for Alice Garnet, who retook her maiden name after her mother was banished. She starts to see multiple "plots". She's supposed to be in a BL book, but nothing of the sort has happened. Reality feels organically real now that she's an adult. She starts seeing glimpses of the future that have nothing to do with the "plot" she thought she knew.
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She experiences terrifying visions about Edwin, her closest friend. He's no longer crazy in love with Micheal. He never was, and he's so gentle on the surface. She doesn't understand why she keeps seeing the castle covered in blood.
Edwin is barely holding it together.
He's pretending to be sane so Alice will play with him.
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The Duke reveals himself. He is a formidable enemy. Karina was tasked with watching over her because....you guessed it! Alice is secretly the Emperors daughter! What a shocking twist! She's a princess how original! Every member of the Imperial Family has special holy powers....that can kill them or drive them insane. The Duke has been raising Alice as a breeding horse, so he can take over the country. It's already in motion. He's currently controlling the Emperor with magic drugs.
Edwin won't move to kill his father as long as Alice is happily playing with him, but what will happen when she finds out the truth?
Her entire life has been a lie, and her powers are too much for her body. The Eyes of Wisdom made her extremely ill. She thought she was inside a book because she saw many visions while she slept. Her body is weak and frail. She's only happy because she has a few trusted friends. She doesn't even really want to be a Princess, but is she willing to use Edwin to get more freedom?
Not really.
She doesn't want to take advantage of her friends.
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Ermagerdddd, your Leona leadership post kickstarted the Leona brain rot again <3 It got me thinking what would happen if for his birthday he received a card/letter with all the positive things people have said about his skills and leadership. It doesn't seem like many of them say it outright to his face.
[Referencing this post!]
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EW, NOT THE L*ONA ROT BRAIN 🤢 I'm sorry to say that the condition is terminal/j
Mmm, I feel like that actually wouldn't change much or invoke that strong of a reaction from him???
Leona's not usually very forthcoming with his true feelings, and nor is he the kind of person that gets openly sentimental when presented with praise. There have been examples of him casually accepting recognition or compliments (Jack tells Leona he's an incredible dorm leader, Leona responds with a short laugh asks Jack to serve as a model for the rest of the dorm). Sometimes depends on how the praise is worded though, as there’s many times when Leona gets offended because of it (Vil says Leona is “only good” for his handsome face; Cheka says Leona is good at Magift but then asks him to teach him how to play; Farena/Falena tells him “even if you can’t be king”, he's intelligent and there's a lot of good Leona can do for their country). There are also times when he deflects or attributes compliments to others’ ulterior movies (like when he rightfully points out Ace is gushing about him to stay close for protection in Endless Halloween Night). He has a voice line as recent as his Broomquet (that just dropped) where he says there's so many herbivores looking at him with sparkling eyes, so he may as well entertain them this time. Even when Leona's got all the attention on him and is being showered with affection, he tends to act very lowkey about it or act in a way which implies he doesn’t believe them. (For example, maybe he’s convinced himself it’s his birthday, so the attention is condition or fleeting.)
Leona is already well aware of what his own skillset is, and where his strengths like. He's frustrated with the world for not seeing his merits—but because he's been verbally beaten down so much in his childhood, he's had to build up emotional walls to prevent his little-kid ego from getting hurt. That's likely manifested into this sort of reluctance to fully believe/accept and internalize praise (because no matter how confident in himself Leona may outwardly act, there's always still that lingering doubt and collected bitterness toward the world that once denied it to him). It’s an inferiority complex resulting from the critique he got as a child and constant comparisons to his older brother, so… in actuality, Leona’s confidence isn’t 100% “real”; there’s an element of self-doubt there, so more often than not he’s scoffing at what others say about him or taking their words cynically (ie focusing on the negative aspects interpreting their words negatively).
Learned behavior like that won't be reversed with one birthday card from all his peers! (I think it's probably something Leona ought to unpack during his mandated post-OB therapy sessions.) Maybe Leona would be sarcastic when he first receives the card—"What, for me? You shouldn't have. It's just going to be shoved into a drawer where it'll never see the light of another day" (you know, like trying to deflect how he's really feeling by acting a little dismissive about it?), but he'll claim to keep it anyway so as to not hurt 'all his fans' precious feelings'.
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