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#and they're the real slow burn of the story
lloydfrontera · 2 years
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CRYING LLOYD AND JAVIER OUTSIDE THE DOOR NOVEL ART HAVE YOU SEEN IT
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YEAH. YEAH I DID
OH MY GOD
i had already been screaming a fair bit about chapters 383-384 because it's just hit after hit after hit in these ones, but i wanted to wait until i had a free moment to properly get my thoughts down on this specific scene and Oh Boi. am i glad i did.
LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT THEM AND TELL ME YOU DON'T GO A LITTLE BIT INSANE.
is in this chapter that we finally get a real glimpse to how lloyd is feeling about all this. he's faced down everything, he's overcome every obstacle that's come his way, he's holding everything together because he knows that if he slips up even once it's game over for everyone and he's done it all on his own with a smile on his face.
and then we get to this scene, which is right after a moment in which lloyd finally allows himself to realize how much he actually cares about his new family and then he sees a bran new way in which he's gonna die,,,
and he just breaks
he starts crying and sobbing because he's terrified, he's so afraid of what his future looks like because he doesn't want to die. he really, really doesn't want to die and he doesn't want to die in such a painful frightening way and he doesn't want to drag others into dying with him
and it's heartbreaking!
all through the novel we do see that lloyd isn't very fond of the idea of dying, like really, he's not that into self-sacrifice and he'd rather find another of solving his problems thank you very much. but it's not until this very moment, that it really hits you how terrifying his situation really is for him. how much pressure and stress and strain he's been under while looking for a way to avoid the restoration of fate all by himself.
and then it cuts to javier. listening through the door. javier who knows that lloyd, that this fake lloyd, has been hiding something for a very long time, who constantly looks the other way whenever there's something that doesn't quite fit the way it should, who has gone through literal hell and back for him because he follows him unconditionally,,,
and who now has to hear the person he trusts the most in the world break down alone in his room because he's terrified of dying but doesn't trust javier enough to show it in front of him. because for some reason he refuses to share his burden and lean on javier the way he's allowed everyone else to lean on him.
and javier is angry
he's angry because lloyd should tell him if he's afraid, he should tell him if he needs help, he should just tell javier so javier can do whatever lloyd needs him to do.
because that's his friend and his friend is stupid but javier won't allow him to go and do something stupid like dying.
that's what javier is for. to protect him. so he shouldn't be afraid of dying because that won't happen. and if it ever did, then it would be javier who'd die instead. if it was for lloyd... he'd be happy to do so.
but even as javier decides this he still has to hear lloyd cry all alone and it hurts
AND THEN THE NEXT MORNING HE TRIES. HE TRIES SO HARD.
he gives lloyd a chance to tell him! he asks and prods and tries to get him to tell him if he's worried about something, if he had a nightmare, if he's in trouble, he just!! tries so hard to get lloyd to trust him!! to lean on him for help!!
but lloyd refuses because he's so used to being on his own that now it's not only second nature but also a true belief of his that when push comes to shove he's on his own. that he needs to resolve all of his problems all by himself.
especially the restoration of fate. because it's his fault that it's happening in the first place. it his fault that everything is in danger so it's his responsibility to fix it.
he can't ask another person to shoulder the burden for him.
IT'S JUST!!! THEY'RE SOOOO!!! MMMGHHH!!! THEY GIVE ME A NEW MENTAL ILLNESS!!! I'M SOOO NORMAL ABOUT THEM I SWEAR!!
these chapters are so important for the dynamic they have until the end of the novel, these moments are how the rest of their relationship develops, this!!! javier wanting lloyd to trust him and to lean on him for help and lloyd refusing to do so out of guilt and a misguided sense of responsibility!! this is how it continues until the very end!! and it never gets resolved!!! bk moon answer for your fucking crimes!!!
anyway
as you can see. i am very normal about these illustrations :)
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koiguitars · 2 months
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it deeply agonizes me that the speak now elements of the manuscript are never discussed in favor of the atw of it all..... like i just. "in the age of him she wished she was 30 and made coffee every morning in a french press" vs "someday when we're older, this is something we'll laugh about over coffee every morning while you're watching the news," "now and then she rereads the manuscript of the entire torrid affair" vs "i used to think one day i'd tell the story of us," "afterwards she only ate kids cereal and couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed" vs never grow up exploring the idea of moving out for the first time & how she couldn't be sleeping in her mother's bed if she was already moved out (also robin being the last song before the manuscript already creating this mental connection)..... please im insane
#album: the tortured poets department#album: speak now#the manuscript#multi song#red strings#textposts#speak now/ttpd sister analysis#also ideas of ''give you my heart'' vs the half of my heart JM collab#and ''slow dance alight with the sparks'' vs JM's slow dancing in a burning room#but tho i think they're Relevant i kinda don't like making stuff about the Men™ of it all#cause the point of the story is that it's an analysis on personal trauma and an exploration of the reason all the behaviors on ttpd happen#but like. so much of ttpd is paralleled in speak now like that album is Thee catalyst for everything#also atw10 being written during speak now tour rehearsals inherently makes atw speak now coded too so like. you cannot escape speak now#she haunts the narrative#but the manuscript makes me insane every time i think about it#you go through the whole main album and think things like#''hmm bdilh has real ours energy. i can fix him has real superman delulu energy. tsmwel has real dear john energy''#down bad is haunted and mbobhft is innocent and fresh out the slammer is sparks fly and ttpd is mine and guilty as sin is i can see you#and then you get to the end of it all and you realize that there was a Point to those parallels#that there was a Point to wcs and the midnights 3am trilogy/storyline#that speak now's story and themes are the catalyst for literally e verything#both in terms of an emotional sense and also a work ethic sense#the idea that speak now was fully self written as a means of proving naysayers wrong#and that mentality goes hand in hand with the denial and desperation to prove others wrong about this romantic relationship#and there's success in one path but not in the other and it's so difficult to reconcile with that (the prophecy)#god its all too much these tags don't even scratch the surface#i desperately need to just write this whole essay or i'll go insane with all these thoughts
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ikeucity · 24 days
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brought the heat back. | chapter one - the alphas' claim
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pairings. omegaverse!au ot7 x reader warning. contains heat, rutting, extreme jealousy, obsession, emotional intensity, explicit sexual content, slow-burn, omegaverse!au, explores themes of power dynamics, omega submission, alpha dominance, scenting, manipulation, unprotected sex, knotting, creampies, and non-consensual elements. reader discretion is strongly advised. mdni. wc. 20k+
in a world where instincts rule, you're an omega thrust into the role of housemother for enhypen—a group of seven alphas. what was meant to be a simple assignment turns into a delicate dance of control and desire, as you struggle to maintain your composure while the alphas slowly break down your walls. every interaction is laced with tension, every glance a spark, building up to moments that almost cross the line. a story of power, temptation, and the fine line between duty and desire, leaving you—and the alphas—wondering how much longer you can resist.
⚠ disclaimer: this story is a work of fiction and does not represent real-life events or the members of enhypen.
© inspired by enha's bthb.
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the day had finally arrived.
the day your father had decided, without your consent, that you would become enhypen's omega. it was a decision he'd made with a cold, calculating logic that left you feeling like a pawn in his game.
"it's the perfect arrangement," he'd said, his voice smooth and persuasive, as if he were selling you a new car instead of your life. "they're a rising group, destined for greatness. you, my dear, are the key to their success."
you'd tried to argue, to explain that you weren't some prized possession to be bartered away, but his words had been like a wall, impenetrable and unyielding. "it's for your own good," he'd insisted, his eyes cold and distant. "you'll be protected, taken care of. and besides, you'll be their housemother, a stabilizing presence in their lives."
you knew he was talking about the scent, the undeniable pull of an alpha's pheromones, the way they could make your body sing and your mind spin. you knew the dangers, the potential for loss of control, the way your omega instincts could take over, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.
but you also knew the thrill, the way an alpha's touch could send shivers down your spine, the way their scent could make you crave their attention. you weren't exactly a saint when it came to alphas, but your father's iron grip on your life had always kept you in check.
your father, however, had always been obsessed with control, with ensuring that you never fell prey to the intoxicating allure of an alpha's scent. he didn't want you to experience the "special" connection he spoke of.
he wanted you to be a mother figure, a calming presence, not a lover.
that's why he'd insisted on the specialized necklace, a silver chain that glinted subtly against your skin. it was a subtle yet powerful measure to ensure that you could navigate the complexities of living with multiple alphas without succumbing to the intoxicating pull of their scents.
it was a constant reminder of his control, a symbol of the power he held over your life.
and now, here you were, standing before the new flat, its pristine walls and clean scent of fresh paint and disinfectant signaling a new chapter. a chapter that had been written for you, not by you.
as you walked through the open floor plan, your eyes caught glimpses of the details that made this place special.
the kitchen, with its gleaming marble countertops, seemed almost luminous under the light streaming in through the tall windows. it was the kind of kitchen that begged to be filled with the clatter of pans, the sizzling of food, and the warmth of shared meals.
the living room flowed naturally from the kitchen, an inviting expanse of space with plush couches that seemed to promise evenings of relaxation. you walked to the full-length glass windows and looked out, the sprawling cityscape unfurling before you.
the view was mesmerizing, a mixture of towering buildings and patches of greenery that gave the city its unique charm. the sunlight wrapped around you, creating a cocoon of warmth and anticipation.
today, everything hinged on meeting the seven alphas who would share this space with you.
you sat down on one of the plush couches, fingering the cool silver pendant thoughtfully. the flat was silent except for the steady hum of your thoughts.
each passing minute brought you closer to meeting your new flat mates, and your curiosity about their scents and reactions grew with each tick of the clock.
the necklace was more than just a suppressor; it was a tool that allowed you to engage with the alphas on your own terms. it tempered the potent chemistry that could otherwise lead to overpowering, uncontrollable urges and mind-blowing sex.
your thoughts wandered to how they would perceive you, whether they’d notice the necklace for what it truly was or dismiss it as just another piece of jewelry.
you wondered how your controlled scent would blend with the natural fragrances that these alphas would bring into the flat.
would they sense the latent undertones of your scent trying to break free, or would it remain masked under the necklace’s suppressing charm?
boy, were you curious.
the reflection in the vanity mirror showed you a person eager yet apprehensive. your simple oversized hoodie and loose shorts ensemble was meant to project casual confidence, but you felt a flicker of self-doubt.
you let your hair loose, hoping it would make you look more approachable, more at ease.
just then, you noticed that your pendant looked dull, with slight traces of oxidization and dirt. a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. you quickly darted into your bathroom to find some baking soda and a cloth, intent on making it shine again.
the last thing you wanted was to appear careless, especially on such an important day.
as you carefully scrubbed the pendant, the scent of vanilla began to fill the small bathroom. your natural aroma, normally subdued by the necklace, now permeated the air.
you'd be fucked if they were actually here, aware of how strong your scent could be.
you shake your head, brushing away the negative thoughts as you hasten to finish cleaning.
unbeknownst to you, the sounds of luggage wheels and sneakers have abruptly stopped just outside the flat's door while you remained oblivious to the vulnerable position you were in.
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"i'm sick of this," jay grumbles, frustration clear in his voice as he stands by the door of their new flat, rummaging through his pockets for the key. the crisp evening air carries the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the tension hanging between them. "assigning us another housemother after the fuck-up from last time..."
"what do you mean, 'fuck-up'?" jungwon asks, curiosity piqued.
jay scoffs, his voice laced with sarcasm. "remember that last one, the one who was supposed to be a professional omega? yeah, she turned out to be a total psycho. always sneaking around, trying to get into our rooms, even when we were there. it was creepy as hell."
jungwon's eyes widen in disbelief. "she was trying to seduce all of you?" he clearly recalls being ignored by her. not that he cared, as long as she was doing her job, he didn't really need anything else from her.
"not just seduce," jay explains, shaking his head. "she was trying to get us to sign some crazy contract that would make her our permanent omega. she even tried to slip something into our drinks one night. it was a total nightmare."
jungwon chuckles, finding the situation oddly humorous. "i can't believe i missed all that. she always avoided me like the plague. guess i should be thankful for that."
"you were the lucky one," jay mutters, rolling his eyes. "the rest of us had to deal with her constant hovering and manipulative tactics."
"wow, that's messed up," jungwon says, his voice low. "i can't believe she tried to manipulate you guys like that."
"yeah, it was a total disaster," jay says, his frustration returning. "that's why i'm not exactly thrilled about having another housemother. i'm hoping this one is actually a professional and not some crazy stalker."
jungwon glances around, trying to lighten the mood. "well, at least this place looks amazing. maybe this time it'll be different."
"let's hope so," jay says with a sigh. "i'm just hoping we can actually get some peace and quiet around here."
sunghoon chimes in, a playful smirk on his face. "you know, the worst part wasn't even the creepy stalker vibes. it was her scent. it smelled like… burnt cabbage and old socks. i swear, i almost fainted every time she was near."
"oh god, i remember that," jake adds, his face contorting in mock disgust. "it was like she'd been rolling around in a dumpster before she came to work."
"at least she was good at cleaning," heeseung says, trying to be diplomatic. "her cooking was… questionable, but she kept the place spotless."
"yeah, but she was way too suffocating," sunoo complains, fanning himself uselessly with a small electric fan. "it was like she was trying to smother us with her… intense… affection."
"intense affection, huh?" jay laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "more like intense desperation."
"she was like a moth drawn to a flame, but the flame was us," niki adds, his voice laced with amusement. "and she was the moth."
"okay, okay, enough with the moth analogies," jungwon says, chuckling. "let's just hope this new housemother is a little less… intense."
"and hopefully her scent isn't as bad as burnt cabbage and old socks," sunghoon adds, earning a chorus of laughter from the rest of the group.
"speaking of housemothers, how does this whole system even work?" jake asks, his curiosity piqued. "i mean, we're idols, we're busy, we're stressed. why do we need an omega living with us?"
"it's a bit of a weird system, honestly," heeseung says, leaning against the doorframe. "the idea is that omegas are supposed to be calming presences, a source of comfort and stability. they're not necessarily there to mate with us or breed us, although that can happen sometimes. it's more about the emotional and physical connection."
"so, like, a big, cuddly teddy bear?" sunoo asks, his eyes wide.
"pretty much," heeseung says with a laugh. "it's supposed to help us manage the stress of being idols, the constant pressure, the lack of personal space. it can be tough, you know? being an idol is tough enough, but the sexual frustration is hell."
"yeah, we haven't had an omega in a while," jay says, his voice turning serious. "it's been a long time since we've had someone to… you know… fuck."
"i can imagine," jungwon says, his eyes filled with sympathy. "it must be hard to keep your urges in check."
"it's not easy," jay admits. "but we're professionals, we handle it. still, it's nice to have someone around who can provide some comfort and support."
"comfort and support, my ass," jake mutters under his breath. "what we really need is a good, hard fuck."
"don't be so crude, jake," sunghoon says, rolling his eyes. "we're not animals."
"speak for yourself," jake retorts with a smirk. "i'm a man with needs."
"yeah, and those needs are definitely getting neglected," niki adds, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. "it's been months since i've had a proper heat."
"i know, right?" sunoo says, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "i'm starting to think i'm going to turn into a werewolf if i don't get some action soon."
"don't worry, sunoo," jay says with a playful grin. "we'll find you a nice omega. someone who can handle your… intense… needs."
"oh, i'm sure i can handle it," sunoo says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"hey, i'm just trying to be supportive," jay says with a shrug.
"well, let's hope this new housemother is a good one," sunghoon says, his voice laced with a hint of hope. "someone who can actually help us relax and unwind."
"and someone who doesn't smell like burnt cabbage and old socks," niki adds, earning another round of laughter from the group.
jake, however, remains skeptical. "honestly, i think it's gonna be worse having an omega around. either we won't like her, or we'll want to mate with her. there's no in-between."
jungwon sighs, shaking his head. "let's at least give her a chance before we jump to conclusions."
"wow, this place looks amazing," jungwon comments, his eyes gleaming with interest as he surveys the surroundings. despite being farther from hybe, the secluded location promises better privacy for him and the rest of the members.
"do you think we'll each get our own room?" he asks, his excitement barely contained.
"god help us if we have to room with jay again," sunghoon teases, earning a playful glare from jay and laughter from everyone else.
"it's boiling out here," sunoo complains, fanning himself uselessly with a small electric fan. sweat trickles down his back, causing his clothes to cling uncomfortably.
silently, niki offers him some tissues, which sunoo gratefully uses to wipe his forehead.
growing impatient, jake casts an irritated glance at jay, who is still fumbling with the key while trying to balance his camera and a small bag. jake's frustration shows in his tapping foot, his smile faltering slightly.
"what's taking so long?!" he groans, frustration softened by a grin. the weight of their luggage is getting to him, and he is eager to get inside and relax.
heeseung, sensing jake's impatience, tries to stifle a laugh at his friend's antics.
in his typical, unintentional comedic style, jake decides to take matters into his own hands. with a dramatic groan, he pretends to force the door open, twisting the doorknob as if attempting to break in.
his eyes widen in surprise as the door unexpectedly swings open with a loud thud, the doorknob hitting the wall.
the sudden noise startles everyone, but jake bursts into laughter at the unexpected turn of events. "well, that's one way to make an entrance," he chuckles, stepping inside with a grin.
"it was unlocked the whole time?" sunghoon remarks cautiously, eyeing the open door before carefully stepping inside. he surveys the surroundings, a hint of surprise on his face.
their eldest member, the ever-composed heeseung, remains unfazed by the unlocked door. he places his duffel bag on the kitchen counter, already making himself at home. "weren't we supposed to meet our housemother here? what if she's already inside?" heeseung comments, looking around the living room as he casually grabs an apple from a bowl on the table. he nods approvingly at the space, clearly impressed.
the rest of the group is equally taken with the place. sunoo finds a spot near the window, entranced by the scenic view and busy taking photos and selfies. the soft light filtering through the curtains casts a warm glow on his face, perfect for his snaps.
jungwon and jay work together to drag the luggage into the living room, while jake and sunghoon take a moment to relax on the sofa, clearly needing a break after the journey. the plush cushions sink under their weight, offering a much-needed respite.
"you know, that last housemother was actually really scared of jungwon," jake said, chuckling. "she would always avoid him, like he was some kind of monster."
"yeah, i remember that," sunoo added, his eyes widening in amusement. "she would literally run away whenever he got near her."
"i guess she didn't know how scary jungwon can get," jay said, his voice laced with a hint of teasing.
"what do you mean?" jungwon asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "i'm not scary."
"oh, you're not scary?" jay said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "you're just the quiet, unassuming one who can stare a hole through someone with his eyes."
"yeah, and you always seem to know exactly what everyone is thinking," sunghoon added, his voice filled with a hint of awe. "it's kind of creepy, to be honest."
"i'm just good at reading people," jungwon said with a shrug. "it's a skill i've developed over the years."
"a skill that has clearly intimidated some poor, unsuspecting housemother," heeseung said, his voice laced with amusement.
"i guess she didn't realize that i'm actually a pretty nice guy," jungwon said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement.
niki's excited voice echoes through the hallway as he counts the bedrooms. "eight! hyung! we each get our own rooms. there are eight bedrooms and two baths."
"for real?" jungwon's eyes widen with excitement, and he quickly mumbles an "i have to see this" to jay before darting off to explore. jay, amused by jungwon's enthusiasm, chuckles and waves him off, easily managing the luggage.
as jungwon opens the bedroom doors one by one, niki follows along, both mentally noting which rooms they prefer. the scent of fresh paint and new furniture fills the air, adding to their excitement.
"ah, sunoo would love this room," niki points out, noticing a room with plenty of mirrors, a feature sunoo appreciates. he then heads off to find sunoo, leaving jungwon to continue his exploration alone. the sound of their laughter and playful banter fills the flat, a promising start to this new chapter.
jungwon's cat-like eyes land on a slightly ajar metal door, piquing his curiosity. he has deduced they aren't alone in the house, and the earlier incident with the unlocked door only confirms his suspicions.
he also recalls being briefed about meeting their housemother upon arrival.
smart, perceptive, and a bit nosy, jungwon pushes the heavy door open with silent steps, ready to greet the new member of their household.
the weight of the door surprises him momentarily, stirring a fleeting thought about the possibility of their housemother being male. such arrangements aren't unheard of, especially given past experiences.
he doesn't question it further, despite the metal door sticking out like a sore thumb.
entering the dimly lit room, jungwon takes a moment to appreciate the neatness before an overwhelming scent of vanilla invades his senses. it was very subtle, but it was definitely there.
it smelled really good.
the room is small but well-kept, with a minimalist aesthetic that speaks to a sense of order and control. a few carefully chosen items adorn the space: a framed photo on the nightstand, a stack of books on a small shelf, a potted plant in the corner. it's clear that the person who lives here values simplicity and functionality.
jungwon's gaze drifts towards the closed bathroom door, where the faint sound of running water can be heard. he knows he should leave, that he's literally breaking into someone's private space, but something holds him back. a strange mix of curiosity and anticipation.
he takes a step closer, his senses heightened, his body reacting to the intoxicating aroma that hangs in the air, getting stronger and stronger. it's not the burnt cabbage and old socks of the previous housemother, nor the dumpster smell that had made him gag.
this scent is different, something entirely different.
it's like the finest delicacy any alpha could have, a sweet, creamy vanilla that whispers promises of pleasure and indulgence.
jungwon's breath hitches, his heart pounding in his chest. he's never encountered an omega scent this potent, this alluring. it's like a siren song, drawing him in, tempting him to succumb to the primal urges that surge through his veins.
he wants to run, to warn the others that their housemother is actually here, but his feet seem rooted to the spot.
he's trapped, captivated by the aroma, his senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating vanilla that surrounds him.
"uh, hello?" he calls out, his voice barely a whisper.
silence.
he takes a step closer, his gaze fixed on the closed bathroom door. the sound of running water continues, a steady rhythm that seems to echo his own racing heartbeat.
"is anyone there?" he asks again, his voice a little louder this time.
still, silence.
he can't help but feel a surge of excitement, a thrill that courses through his veins. he's never been this close to an omega with a scent this powerful.
he takes another step closer, his senses on high alert. he can feel the heat rising in his body. he wants to push open the bathroom door, to see who is behind it, to see the person responsible for this intoxicating scent.
"hello?" he calls out again, his voice now laced with a hint of urgency.
the sound of the running water suddenly stops.
and then it hits him like a sharp slap to the face, the scent of vanilla, amplified, intensified, a wave of pure sweetness that crashes over him, leaving him breathless, his senses reeling.
jungwon's eyes widen.
"fuck," he whispers, his voice rough with desire.
his alpha instincts are screaming at him, telling him that this omega is his, meant for him, destined to be his mate. he can already imagine the feel of her soft skin against his, the taste of her sweet nectar on his tongue, the way she'll arch her back as he claims her, knots her, makes her his.
"god, i'm so hard," he mutters, his hand instinctively reaching for his pants, a desperate attempt to soothe the growing ache in his groin.
he knows he should leave, knows he should respect her privacy, but the primal part of him, the alpha within, refuses to be ignored. the scent is too powerful, too alluring, and he's too far gone to turn back now.
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your heart races as you freeze, hearing a muffled "hello" from outside the bathroom door. the cloth in your hand is long forgotten, the one you were using to dry your necklace.
you were freaking out.
they weren't supposed to be here yet.
you knew you had like an hour at best, that's why you grew complacent. if only it wasn't a pain in the ass being so heavy, you would've shut the damn metal door to your room.
the scent of cinnamon invades your senses, making every nerve in your body tingle with anticipation. your knees threaten to buckle under the overwhelming desire coursing through you, hands gripping the sink to balance yourself, pussy slicking up as if preparing your body to submit to the alpha that offered this scent.
heat radiates from your body, intensifying with each passing moment. you rub your thighs together, seeking some kind of relief.
you hear muffled speech from behind the door that you can't really make out.
tongue tied, you find it hard to speak, hands shaking as you try to take a step back, gasping at your pathetic and flushed reflection in the mirror and end up dropping the necklace with a light thud.
your eyes were going blurry from the sensory overload making you panic even more.
it was the first time you felt so weak, dropping to your knees you desperately tried to look for the necklace despite seeing your surroundings spin.
the hunger in your stomach is almost feral, demanding to be sated by the source of that delightful aroma. but you fight against it, knowing the consequences could be severe.
you really hated your father right now.
this must only be one of the men you were supposed to care for, and he smells like a damn bakery. if things were different, you'd have no issue busting your door wide open for him to come in and take you.
but you can't, god you fucking can't.
you were a complete mess, your face flushed and sweaty as you desperately look for an escape. but you almost reel as you feel his scent grow stronger, heart dropping as you now see the shadow of a figure under the crack of the door.
the alpha stands on the other side, his mouth watering at the scent of your arousal. he could tell his scent was affecting you too, he could smell you leaking for him.
jungwon attempts to lean closer, the door being the only barrier that stopped him from getting to experience you.
"fuck, i can smell you," he groans, his voice filled with desire. he inhales deeply, biting his lip to hold back the moans.
"i want to see you, can i? i'm jungwon." his voice, god, his voice was perfect.
you bite your lip hard, inching away from the door and to the corner of the bathroom, mind buzzing as you do everything to try to resist the temptation.
"you're wet, aren't you? come on out and play with me, bunny," he growls, his voice dripping with lust. the way he announced that he could smell your arousal made you whimper in a mix of embarrassment and need.
"n-no," you squeak, your throat tight. "um, can you give me a moment?"
your whimpers drive him wild, he rolls his eyes at your voice, in each way it cracked, desperately trying to appear composed.
he huffs in frustration, twisting the doorknob but it was fucking locked, he holds back the urge to punch the door.
with a closed fist just as he swings, he lets out a disgruntled sigh as he grits his teeth. “please,” he mutters, the locked door refusing to budge.
"please, let me in," he begs, almost desperate. his voice makes your knees weak, and you slide to the floor, the cold tiles numbing your senses.
"i'm sorry but i can't. you need to get away... your scent is too much." you whimper, voice cracking in desperation.
hearing you, he slams his fist against the door, making the hinges rattle. his scent amplifies even more and you didn't know it was possible, filling the air until it overwhelms your senses to the point you were seeing white.
tears brim in your eyes as your slick drips down your thighs.
you teeter on the edge, torn between restraint and surrender, unsure what awaited you on the other side of that door.
you were screwed.
this was not the type of welcome you wanted to give them.
you were not a stranger to alpha's being affected by your extremely potent pheromones, but it had been a very long time since you had equally been affected this bad.
in different circumstances, you would be thanking the lords above for having such an appetizing alpha be in your midst, his scent was mouthwatering.
you could only imagine how mind-blowing the sex would be like.
but your father's words echo in your mind, a stern warning that keeps you rooted to your spot. despite being briefed beforehand of the boys you were to care for, there were still rules set in place.
no matter how badly you or they wanted it.
before you can gather your thoughts, the heavy, rhythmic pounding on the door intensifies, mirroring the rapid beat of your heart. each thud reverberates through the room, echoing the alpha's growing impatience and barely contained desire.
"please," his voice carries a rumbling need that makes your skin prickle. "i won't hurt you. i just want to see you, and meet you. i'm the leader, sorry for scaring you." despite his calm tone, you noticed how it held a twisted undertone, your instincts going haywire, it really was best that you trusted it, because behind that door was a devilish smirk on jungwon's face.
so you remained hidden.
despite your body's yearning, a sliver of rationality keeps you sane. you clutch at the cool tiles, willing them to ground you against the scorching wave of pheromones that floods the room.
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sunghoon languidly stretches out on the plush sofa, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. the plush velvet cushions sink beneath his weight, and he lets out a contented sigh.
“man, i’m starving. i can’t wait for our housemother to whip us up a meal. god, i hope she knows how to cook,” he muses aloud, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.
jake, sprawling on his stomach beside him, chuckles at the thought. he rubs his face against the linen and yawns loudly, playfully kicking sunghoon’s leg as he stretches his own limbs, still feeling the lingering fatigue of their journey.
the scent of fresh laundry and a faint hint of pine from the air freshener mingles with the lingering aroma of the road, a mix that reminds him of home.
as jake buries his face deeper into the cushion you had vacated moments ago, a faint but inviting scent of vanilla invades his senses, igniting something primal within him.
"what the hell?" jake gives sunghoon a confused look, deep in thought.
he swore he smelt something good.
first, he was utterly confused, yet now he finds himself on all-fours, nose burying deep into the fabric, searching for that scent that tickled his nose. it looked hilarious, quite frankly.
he was trying to smell more of you.
his mouth waters, and without a second thought, he licks the spot on the cushion, groaning softly as he chases that tantalizing smell. his arousal is unmistakable, his length straining against the denim of his jeans.
sunghoon looks at him in utter shock.
“but it smells so fucking good,” jake murmurs, momentarily lost in the scent that lingers in the linen. the sensation is so intense that it sends shockwaves through his entire body, leaving him aching and desperate for more.
his brothers can’t help but notice the sudden shift in atmosphere, as jake’s pheromones blend with his aroused state, it's a potent mix that makes their noses crinkle slightly.
“dude,” heeseung laughs, shaking his head, though his shoulders tense, “stop releasing your scent. you’re gonna make me throw up.”
“you like that? sniffing the sofa like a dog?” sunghoon teases, earning a playful shove from jake.
“hey, i’m just trying to get a whiff of our new housemother,” jake retorts, his voice laced with a hint of seriousness. “she smells amazing.” he inhales deeply again, a dreamy look on his face and this time piquing sunghoon’s curiosity.
“wait, you’re serious?” sunghoon raises an eyebrow. “you think it’s her?”
“she’s the only omega in the house,” jake replies, his voice growing serious. “there’s no mistaking it. it’s her scent.”
“come on, jake,” sunghoon says with a chuckle. “you know being bitchless makes your nose a little oversensitive.”
“i’m not fucking around, man,” jake says, his voice growing serious.
“i’ve got a good nose for omegas. i know what i’m smelling.” he leans back into the sofa in a relaxed position, sitting down properly beside sunghoon.
“there’s no mistaking it,” jake continues, his eyes darkening slightly. “it’s the kind of scent that makes you want to protect and claim. it’s driving me nuts. bet she's hella cute.”
“well, looks like we need to be careful,” heeseung interjects, his voice taking on a serious note. “if she smells as good as you say she is, we can’t just go around acting on our instincts.”
“yeah, yeah, i know,” jake mutters, though his eyes still hold that primal glint. “but i'm telling you now, it’s not gonna be easy.”
“especially not with you acting like a lovesick pup,” sunghoon smirks, earning a glare from jake.
“shut up, sunghoon,” jake grumbles, though there’s no real heat in his words. “let’s just hope she’s a good cook, like you said. maybe that’ll distract me.”
“or maybe you’ll just end up sniffing around the kitchen,” sunghoon laughs, the tension easing as the group falls back into their usual banter.
“try it,” jake gestures to the sofa, and everyone looks at him in slight disgust.
“after you got your slobber all over it? no. you’re a goddamn weirdo,” sunoo sassily replies.
“okay, okay, we get it, she smells good, whatever,” jay says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i still think you're just being extra.”
“yeah i’m just glad she doesn’t smell like a dumpster,” heeseung jokes, earning laughter from the others, propping up his legs to rest against the coffee table, slumping back in the sofa chair.
heeseung tries to push the image of the last housemother out of his mind. her scent had been a constant assault on his senses, a cloying mix of burnt cabbage and old socks. he’d found himself constantly holding his breath whenever she was around, and he’d been relieved when she’d finally left.
heeseung couldn't help but feel a little uneasy.
jake was usually the most level-headed of them all when it came to omegas. he was the one who always kept his head straight, even when surrounded by the most potent scents.
but now, he was acting like a lovesick puppy, sniffing the sofa like it was a new toy.
“you’re going to have to get your head straight, jake,” sunghoon says, his voice firm. “we can’t let this omega turn us into a bunch of hormonal messes.”
“i know,” jake says, his voice a little subdued. “i just… can’t help it. she smells so good, i'm telling you guys just a small whiff and you'll know what i mea-"”
“or maybe, you’re just being a drama queen,” heeseung adds with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
“yeah, man, you’re probably overreacting,” sunghoon says, giving jake a reassuring pat on the back.
their conversation is abruptly interrupted as an overwhelming wave of their leader’s pheromones sweeps through the room. the heady mix of cinnamon, musk, and arousal has everyone snapping their heads toward the source, their instincts kicking into high gear, hearts pounding with a mixture of dread and excitement.
heeseung feels a familiar tightness in his chest. jungwon’s scent, even when not directed at anyone in particular, always had a way of making him feel a little off-kilter.
"jungwon, knock it off," heeseung yells, hoping his younger member could hear him, shielding his face with his hand. "you’re giving me a headache."
"you guys always overdo it," sunghoon complains, nose crinkling at the mixture of jungwon and jake's pheromones thick in the air. "it’s like you’re trying to knock us all out with your scents."
a subtle bang echoes from a distance making everyone flinch and straighten up.
niki, who was usually so calm and collected, felt a surge of panic. he could sense the tension in the air, and he could smell the desperation in jungwon’s scent.
he knew that something was wrong, and he knew that it was going to get worse before it got better. it was a gut-feeling.
niki’s eyes darted to the hallway, he could smell the faintest hint of vanilla, mingling with the cinnamon and musk of jungwon’s scent. it was a very sweet yet overwhelming combination, and it was making his head spin.
niki knew that he had to do something, but he didn’t know what.
he was just a young alpha, and he had never experienced anything like this before. he felt helpless, trapped in the middle of a storm that he couldn’t control.
the rest of the group exchange concerned looks, wrestling with uncertainty—except for jake, who remains laser-focused, his entire being thrumming with adrenaline and want.
"where the hell is he?" heeseung asks, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "i can smell him all over the place, but i don't see him."
jake’s eyes narrow as he takes in the lingering scent of cinnamon, mixed with the faint but unmistakable aroma of vanilla.
he puts the pieces together, a cold realization dawning on him.
"he's with her," jake growls, his voice low and dangerous. "he got to her first."
"what?" jay exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. "he wouldn't-"
"i know it," jake says, his jaw tightening.
with a fierce determination, jake races toward the closed metal door, his mind singularly focused on getting to where jungwon was.
"jakey boy said she smelled amazing," sunghoon stands up from his seat, "so let me confirm what got his balls in a twist," sunghoon explains to a perplexed sunoo who was beyond confused at the turn of events, his gaze fixed on the damp spot where jake had been sniffing.
he eyes it warily, not sure what to expect.
driven by curiosity, sunghoon crouches down, a mix of intense disgust and anticipation on his face as he reluctantly leans closer to get a whiff. the moment he inhales, his heart pounds rapidly, each beat echoing through his body, leaving him breathless.
his expression turns unreadable as he processes the revelation that's torn his world apart.
"holy shit," he murmurs, eyes wide with a mix of shock and something deeper, something primal.
seeing sunghoon's reaction, the others swarm around him, one by one leaning in to catch a whiff of the intoxicating scent, each of them reacting with varying degrees of disbelief and arousal.
"shit, he's right," jay breathes out, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and confusion.
"this is insane," sunoo mutters, shaking his head as if to clear it, but the scent lingers, wrapping around his senses like a vice.
"wow, that's something," niki says, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination.
heeseung, however, remains in deep thought, his mind racing as he tries to think of a way to calm the situation down. 
"it's safe to say we're fucked," sunghoon declares, his words slicing through the air like a blade, sending a ripple of shock and surprise through the group, hearts pounding even harder. "no way in hell am i- can we hold ourselves back if she smells that good."
"what?" heeseung's voice is laced with bewilderment and a rising urgency as he shoves sunghoon aside, the scent hitting him like a tidal wave the moment he gets close enough.
heeseung, usually so composed and in control, feels a tremor run through his body. the scent hits him with the force of a physical blow.
like your scent was calling him, promising a pleasure so intense that it could kill him.
heeseung takes a step back, his eyes widening in disbelief. the scent makes his entire body ache with a desire he can't quite explain.
and he knows that he's in big trouble.
a sudden snarl escapes him, primal and possessive, as the truth sets in.
"get jungwon out of there, now," he orders, urgency lending speed to their actions as they hurry toward jungwon, driven by a near-maniacal desperation.
heeseung grits his teeth, taking slow, deliberate steps to follow his brothers. the scent clings to his nose, making him bite back the overwhelming urge to bury his face into that sofa like jake pathetically did moments ago.
he knew that an omega’s scent was a powerful thing. it was a primal force that could drive alphas to the edge of madness.
he had seen it happen before, and he knew that it could happen again.
heeseung knew that this was going to be a long, difficult, and potentially dangerous situation. he had a feeling that this housemother was going to be a lot more trouble than they bargained for.
so who the hell are you?
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"i'm done asking nicely, open the fucking door," jungwon's voice booms, a raw, primal command that vibrates through the air, making your entire body tremble. it's a sound that stirs the omega within you, urging submission, making you crave his touch.
it propels you to crawl toward the door, each movement a testament to your surrender to his dominance. the anticipation is a physical ache, a throbbing in your core that mirrors the pounding of your heart.
jungwon presses his body closer to the door, panting with anticipation, his need a feral intensity that you can feel through the wood. his desperation makes your own body thrum in response, a desperate hunger that mirrors his.
"i'm gonna break this fucking door down—" jungwon's howl gets cut off as jake tackles him, knocking him aside in a flurry of unexpected and aggressive desperation.
"you think you can just waltz in here and claim her like she's some prize?" jake snarls, his grip tightening on jungwon's arm.
"get off me," jungwon growls, struggling against jake's hold. "you don't know shit, have you smelled her? think you could resist not taking her?"
"you're a goddamn idiot, jungwon," jake snarls, his grip tightening even more.
"i found her first," jungwon growls, his voice thick with need as he loses himself to his alpha instincts. the fact that one of his best friends is all up in his face, ready to throw hands, means absolutely nothing. "back the fuck off."
"she's not yours," jake says, his voice dripping with disdain. "she's not even leaking for you."
the two aren't trading blows, but jake's grip is fierce, his muscles taut with a desperate need to hold jungwon down.
jungwon, who was so close to convincing his 'bunny' to open the door, is beyond furious at the interruption. he knew you were about to give in to him, but for some reason even his best friend seemed to know how amazing you smelled.
you finally reach your bathroom door, bracing yourself for what is to come. completely unaware of the events that have transpired outside, with trembling hands, you unlock the door, eyes glazed with lust, body numb and needy. your mind was screaming at you to let yourself be taken by jungwon.
whimpers escape your lips as your gaze finally locks on the man responsible for the tantalizing aroma.
he's beautiful.
his sharp jawline and piercing eyes are a vision of alpha dominance. his hair is slightly ruffled from the apparent struggle, adding a touch of wildness to his already captivating features. his skin, smooth and flawless, is the color of warm honey, and his lips, full and inviting, are slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of his pearly white teeth.
"jungwon?" you whisper, but your eyes widen in horror as you see him being pinned down by another man.
another alpha.
your hands quickly cover your nose and mouth as the new scent, cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the warm cinnamon, makes you dizzy.
it also smells heavenly, but it's starting to become too much.
the mix of their pheromones is giving you sensory overload, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. jungwon's eyes meet yours, something feral and intense stirring within him.
"bunny," he whispers, lying on his back with a stabbing pain from his side, the wind knocked out of him by jake’s tackle. his voice is lined with raw longing and frustration.
he's yet to know your name, but the way his name rolled off your tongue felt like it was only natural.
jake lets go of jungwon, his eyes blazing with fury.
without a second thought, jake lunges toward you. he’s a whirlwind of raw alpha energy as he finally takes the time to get a good look at you.
oh god, you are perfect.
you are a vision of raw, untamed beauty. he clicks his tongue, a low, guttural sound, as he takes in the sight of your arousal pooling between your thighs, a testament to jungwon’s previous assault.
the sight of you, so vulnerable and desperate, ignites the devil within him. he almost gets distracted, lost in the sheer perfection of your body despite being covered by a worn-out hoodie and shorts, a masterpiece that he longs to claim despite it being his first time to lay his eyes on you.
your tear-stained face, proof that you are very likely at your breaking point, only makes his cock even harder.
your scent, a heady mix of vanilla and jasmine, it’s a drug that courses through his veins, making him crave you with a desperation he can’t control.
he's losing it.
his eyes narrow, vision tunneled, only seeing you.
"the scent you left on the sofa is nothing compared to having you here in front of me, omega," jake growls, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. he leans in, his nose trailing up sensually on your neck, inhaling deeply as he groans desperately, his hot breath giving you goosebumps as you resisted giving in and pulling him in. as he pulls away to catch his breath, his hooded eyes meet yours and what seemed like time stopping between you, he whispered,
"sorry for what i'm about to do to you."
his hunger is evident as he wastes no time and devours your body with this soft lips, hands shamelessly roaming your body, squeezing your tits, making you gasp cutely against him.
"please," you whimper, the word barely a whisper, your body trembling with need and fear. the omega in you is screaming for submission, for the alphas to take control, to claim you.
jungwon struggles to his feet, his eyes dark with possessive rage. "get your hands off her, jake," he snarls, his voice a dangerous growl as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.
jake smirks, his grip on you tightening. "make me," he taunts, his eyes never leaving yours. "she's leaking for me now, jungwon. she wants this."
"no," jungwon roars, his alpha instincts kicking into overdrive. "she's mine."
jake wastes no time, ignoring jungwon's pathetic attempts to try to win you over, because he was the alpha in front of you now.
his touch is rough and possessive, pouncing on top of you with a desperation that speaks of longing, pinning you to the sticky floor soaked with your own arousal. the air crackles with the electricity of your connection, an untamed energy that threatens to consume you both.
both of your moans and cries mingle in the air, his feverish licks and kisses driving you to the brink of oblivion. he holds your frail arms above your head, capturing your lips in a kiss that is sloppy and desperate, his tongue dancing around with yours.
his cool, musky scent envelops you, as if promising a lover's journey that ensnares your senses and leaves you begging for more. jake is passionate, raw, and extremely intense.
this man definitely knew what he was doing.
"fuck!" jungwon's helpless cry echoes, tears welling as he claws toward you with an almost wild desperation and burning jealousy.
"get off her, jake!" jungwon roars, his voice breaking with raw emotion. "bunny, look at me-"
but before he can reach you, niki grabs him, holding him back firmly, his own breath ragged and filled with turmoil.
“jungwon, snap out of it,” niki pleads, pulling jungwon away from the charged scene, torn between his own instincts and the need to protect everyone involved.
niki’s body feels like a taut string, every muscle screaming with the need to intervene, to protect you, to protect everyone from the chaos unfolding.
niki's own senses are momentarily fucked, the air making him dizzy, his heart pounding in his chest. he feels a surge of panic, knowing that this situation is spiraling out of control.
caught in jake’s embrace, you suffocate in his scent, that was slowly consuming you, making you feel like you're on the verge of shattering.
“you’re a fucking mess,” jake snarls, his voice rough with barely contained desire as he buries his face in your neck. “you’re dripping all over yourself because of that prick, but you’re going to be mine.”
“fuck, i can smell how wet you are. let me taste that pussy baby,” jake moans, releasing your hands to bury his face between your slick thighs. your shorts weren't too tight anyway, so he slips them to the side, along with your soaked panties, licking up your juices as he slurps it all up. he didn't hold back, the way you could hear his tongue lapping at your slick folds, it sounded so dirty.
his tongue messily flicks your swollen clit, licking long and delicious stripes up your slit, not letting a single drop go to waste.
his hands don't shy away from lifting your hoodie, exposing your tummy. he wanted to see your tits but is too busy drowning himself in your wet pussy.
jake is a mess.
"you taste so fucking good," he whimpers.
"you're gonna let me do what i want with this pretty pussy, baby?" your desperate grip on his shirt tugs him closer, your eyes pleading for him to devour you, your voice shaky and filled with want.
"mhmm," you urge him on breathlessly, your chest rising frantically. fuck, you've never been eaten out this good.
"wanna carry my pups? pump you full of my seed?" he whispers in your ear, dragging his teeth along your skin, jaw clenching as it takes everything in him not to mark you right off the bat, sending shivers down your spine.
you nod frantically.
his dick strains painfully against his pants as he humps against your soaking core, the slight sting from his jeans rubbing on your clit making the pleasure tormenting. but the sight of such a gorgeous man falling desperate for you makes you smile.
"yes i want it, need you inside me please," you beg, your voice a fractured whisper.
he spreads your legs wide open, your pretty pussy on display. jake moans loudly at how willing you are and loosens his belt. but before he can unbutton his pants, jay intervenes to grab him in a chokehold, lifting him off you with a tense, determined expression.
"get the fuck off her, jake!" jay growls, his voice filled with authority and anger.
you yelp at the empty feeling of the alpha being pulled off of you, so you decide to quickly replace the feeling, using your own fingers to slide into your wet folds, while your other hand wantonly squeezes your own breasts.
desperate to keep the pleasure coming.
"fucking get off me, jay- you fuck!! let me go-" jake shouts, fighting jay's grip, voice filled with rage and desperation as he attempts to bite his friend's hands off.
jay’s expression is strained, holding his friend back despite the arousal he also feels from the smell of your arousal, his breath hitching as jake struggles.
"jake, this isn't you! calm the fuck down!" jay's voice wavers, trying to maintain control.
it takes everything in him to ignore the sensation of his own rock-hard length pressing against jake's back. he is also reacting to your intoxicating scent.
he knows that he needs to be strong, to protect you from this fucked up situation, but his own body is betraying him.
and it's just the first day.
but you?
you were gone. drowning in your own pleasure, eager to cum.
jay almost loses it when he notices you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, knuckles deep into your gaping hole, laying there on the floor.
open for the taking.
his eyes widen momentarily, the sound of your fingers squelching as they travel in and out of your sopping hole making him groan.
he decides to close his eyes, breathing in deeply to calm down his raging boner but his thoughts are loud. fuck, you were stretching yourself out.
seeing you put on a show for them, jake growls, still attempting to break free from jay's grip.
"you fucking prick, let me go! she's mine!" jake's voice is filled with raw desperation and anger.
much more forcefully, jay drags jake away to retreat back into the living room.
meanwhile, jungwon thrashes against niki's hold, his eyes wild with desperation. "let me go, niki. she needs me."
niki's grip tightens, his voice strained. "hyung, please. you need to calm down."
jungwon's vision blurs with tears as he sees you on the floor, the sight of you, so vulnerable and desperate, now that jay has jake at bay, this was his moment. he had to taste you, your scent has been torturing him long enough.
"niki, please," jungwon begs, his voice breaking.
niki's own heart aches at the sight of his hyung's desperation. he knows he has to be strong, to keep jungwon from making things worse. "you're not thinking straight, hyung. you need to calm down."
jungwon's body shakes with the effort to break free, but niki's hold is unyielding. "i can't just leave her like that, look, she needs me to help her- i need to help her," jungwon cries, his voice raw with pain.
before jay could drag jake away to fully exit your room, his eyes catch sight of a necklace on the floor. his eyes widen as he realizes just what type of necklace it is.
alarmed, he shouts at sunghoon, who stood by your doorframe, stunned like a deer-in-headlights, staring at your disheveled state, then glancing at jay holding jake back for his dear life.
the chaos of the situation and his own emotions warring within him were all too much.
"sunghoon, the necklace!" the command snaps sunghoon out of his trance as he frantically searches for the necklace, trying to ignore the overwhelming scent in the room. is jay fucking with him? what fucking necklace.
he didn't even know why he needed to look for a necklace and almost let jay's words pass through his ears, clearly doubting jay, almost convinced he was just messing with him.
not until he saw something shimmer in the corner of his eye as he tried to look everywhere but at you.
with his arm shielding his nose and a hiss, he cautiously approaches to retrieve the necklace that was by your bathroom door, his movements filled with confusion and arousal.
"damn it, where is it…" sunghoon mutters, his vision blurring slightly as he tries to focus. the urgency in jay's voice piercing his fog.
even in this frantic state, sunghoon notices your desperation, your eyes pleading as if spellbound. the urgency in your gaze prompts him to call out to jay as he held back any impulse to say 'to hell with it' and just claim you for himself.
"i found the necklace. now what?" sunghoon's voice wavers, urgently clutching the small object.
"put it on her," jay orders decisively, his tone leaving no room for argument. sunghoon curses under his breath as his stomach churned, hesitating, his body shaking with restrained arousal.
but he walks towards you anyway, as you lay there pathetically arching your back against the carpeted floor.
you looked so slutty.
he could come just from watching you. those tear-stained eyes, soaked shorts and pathetic cries.
fuck, you even looked like you pissed yourself.
why the hell did you look like everything he's ever wanted?
"fuck, jay, i don’t know if i can. i can barely even keep myself in check." he confesses, his voice barely audible over the roar of blood in his ears as he crouched down, he was trying. "she looks too good."
then your scent started to invade his whole being.
he was starting to see red, his hands trembling as they reached out for you slowly, the sounds in the room seemed to fade out, only your pathetic whimpers and pants danced with his raging heartbeat ringing in his ears.
"help me, alpha," you sniffle, your voice trembling as you reached out for him with the same hand you were using to fuck yourself.
your wet fingers coated in your own juice grazed his the back of his knuckles, the touch of your hand nearly breaking his resolve. he wanted nothing more than to lick it off, also getting a taste of what made jake lose his mind.
but he holds himself back from that impulsive thought.
your raw desperation cuts through his haze, filling him with conflicting emotions.
"fuck," he moans, placing his palm flat on your stomach, feeling your warmth. he just wanted to. wanted to feel the warmth of your skin, see if his touch had any sort of effect, wondering silently and watching you in awe, as he hoped maybe you liked the way he was emitting his strong and woody alpha musk.
his eyes rake over your body, your hoodie rised up and fell just below your chest, exposing your tummy, likely from jake's assault.
he could imagine it now, filling you up and fucking into you hard.
you could take him.
he'd fuck you so deep, he easily pictured how your stomach would bulge out as he fucked into you, showing just how deep he could go.
"you want it?" sunghoon growls, his voice low and dangerous. "want me to fill you up, make you mine. fuck, you look so good like this, begging for it." the way he was breathless and entranced by you had him mumble the words like a chant, rather than directed at you, it was like he was lost in his own world.
you whimper, your body reacting instinctively to his words. "yes, anything. help me..."
sunghoon's hand trembles as he fights to maintain control. "fuck, i want to. i want to so bad-"
"sunghoon, what the fuck are you doing? the necklace is designed to dampen her pheromones around alphas, so we don’t end up in fucking situations like this," jay explains urgently, with a tinge of possessiveness as he sees his friend try to cop a damn feel while he was struggling to keep jake in check.
sunghoon clicked his tongue, not appreciating how he just got cockblocked when it was clear how much you wanted him.
"why do i always get stuck with the difficult tasks?" sunghoon mutters, resigned but determined, forcing himself to focus.
taking a deep breath, he grips your arm tightly, positioning you to face away. with effort, he clumsily clasps the necklace around your neck, his hands shaking.
instantly, the potency of your pheromones reduces. sunghoon collapses into a breath, realizing your scent lessened and no longer triggers his alpha instincts. relief and frustration war within him as he struggled to catch his breath.
it's like he ran a marathon, his lungs were burning as the adrenaline was yet to wear off.
you slump into his arms, going limp as sleep welcomes you, feeling completely spent.
sunoo then bursts into the room, his expression filled with concern as he looks at your exhausted state.
"let me take her," sunoo asserts, lifting you gently to the sofa in the living room, his touch protective yet tender.
sunghoon releases a breath he doesn’t realize he had been holding, shaken by the intense events. lost in thought, heeseung's reassuring hand on his shoulder brings him back to the present.
"you definitely took your fucking time." sunghoon mumbles, frustration and exhaustion evident.
"sorry, looked like you guys had it all under control."
heeseung appeared nonchalant, but in reality, he was watching everything play out in his own perverted way. he loved seeing you desperate, enjoying the show as he let his members go crazy. as he silently watched the chaos, heeseung was already planning. he was silent but he knew from the minute he smelled you, he was definitely going to do anything to claim you in one way or another.
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silence hung heavy in the living room, thicker than the lingering scent of your pheromones, even with the suppression necklace you wore. the air conditioning hummed, a feeble attempt to mask the tension that crackled between the alphas.
jay finally broke the silence. "so, have you two knuckleheads calmed down yet?" he asked, his voice firm, laced with a hint of exasperation. jake and jungwon, heads slumped, shame etched on their faces, looked like they'd just been kicked in the balls.
jake, still on the sofa, rubbed his face, elbows propped on his knees, eyes glued to your sleeping form. you lay there, a picture of peaceful slumber, oblivious to the storm raging in the room.
jake swallowed hard, the taste of your arousal still lingering on his tongue, a cruel reminder of his own raging need.
"never been so pussy-drunk in my life," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.
he's always been the smooth operator, the alpha who makes omegas beg for his touch. but here he was, a slave to your scent, his usual confidence replaced with a pathetic ache.
he bit his lip, remembering how he'd shamelessly rubbed himself against you, desperate for a taste, a scent, anything. it was embarrassing, a blow to his alpha pride.
you were captivating, your body a masterpiece, your scent a siren's call. it was no wonder he'd lost his damn mind.
and he wasn't the only one.
"she's something else," jake muttered, trying to shake off the lingering effects of your scent. "can't believe how strong it is, even with the damn necklace."
jay nodded, his struggle mirrored in his own tense expression. "we need to get our shit together, guys," he said, his voice a low growl. "we're responsible for her, not just for ourselves. but it's a real kick in the balls that we had to welcome her like this."
jake ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. "yeah, i get it. it's fucked up. but she just… fuck, i don't even know her name and she makes it hard to think straight." he glanced at sunoo, who sat close to you, seemingly unaffected, his composure an infuriating contrast to their own struggles.
"how do you do it, sunoo? how are you so damn calm?" jake's voice was tinged with desperation.
sunoo hummed thoughtfully. "she's beautiful, and her scent is… pleasant, like a sweet vanilla cake. but it doesn't drive me crazy like it does you guys." he smiled, but his eyes remained cool, devoid of any amusement.
"maybe i'm just better at controlling my urges."
the other boys groaned, their envy palpable. they wished they could bottle sunoo's willpower and chug it down.
"you’re telling us you wouldn’t give in if she asked?" jake challenged, his voice laced with disbelief and a hint of desperation.
sunoo's smirk widened. "oh, i wouldn't say no. but the point is, i don't feel compelled—unlike you guys."
"you've always been the goddamn zen master, sunoo," jay said, his voice tight. "but we gotta find that inner peace too. we can't lose control around her."
like he almost had.
he'd seriously considered knocking everyone out earlier, taking you for himself, the way you'd let anyone have you at that point had him in a chokehold.
he'd wanted to claim your heat, to use you, to feel the power of your scent. you were practically begging for your pussy to be used and abused by how you were stretching yourself out.
jake's eyes darkened with a reminiscent heat. "everything about her, her scent, body and god- if only you guys knew how good she was for me." the boys found themselves staring at your form, the fact that jake, probably the most experienced with women but never got obsessed, was speaking like this.
jake continued with a groan, "and her heat? fuck me. i mean, i ate her out, kissed her. full-on, tongue-down-the-throat action."
jay cast a worried look in jake’s direction, a flicker of jealousy hidden beneath his facade. "we're all affected, jake. it's not just you." he turned to jungwon, who had been unusually quiet and staring holes into the tiled living room floor.
"what about you, jungwon? you just disappeared earlier."
"i've never seen hyung like that before," niki said, his voice laced with curiosity. jungwon sighed, inwardly agreeing.
he couldn't even quite explain it himself—it was the first time he'd ever lost control. usually, he's the picky one. never drunk on an omega’s scent and loved that he never had any attachments to anyone he's been with.
but this time? he had been completely overwhelmed.
jungwon sighed, rubbing his temples. "i don't know what came over me. i went in her room cause i was curious, turns out she was there and the next… i was trying to break down her bathroom door but jake just barged right in."
jake's eyes flared with a mix of frustration and understanding. "you think i didn't feel the same way? the moment i got close to her, it was like i was drowning in her scent."
jungwon's jaw tightened. "but you got to her first, jake. you always do."
jake took a step closer, his voice lowering to a growl. "what are you trying to say, jungwon? that i shouldn't have? that i should've let you have her?"
jungwon's inner dialogue screamed at him, even jungwon couldn't make sense of the intense rage he felt at this moment.
"i'm saying," jungwon spat, "that i lost control for the first time in my life. do you know what that feels like? i was crying, jake. crying because i couldn't handle it."
niki, who had been listening intently, chimed in. "i think we're all just tired, maybe the exhaustion is just catching up to us considering we've been working non-stop."
heeseung, who had been silently observing the conversation, finally spoke. "and that's why she was assigned to us, we need her here. although i've never seen you so aggressive before, won. these things can happen." his voice held a hint of empathy, but his eyes were sharp, his own emotions simmering beneath the surface.
but heeseung wasn't unaffected at all no matter how composed he looked. lee heeseung was jealous.
if he had the chance to be in their shoes? to get a taste, and to be inches away from you, he could die a happy man.
the moment he'd caught a whiff of you, he was gone. he wanted you, he wanted nothing but to drown in you. but no one had to know that.
no one had to know he'd been watching the whole thing, reveling in the chaos, in seeing you lose your mind and how you begged his members to fuck you. heck, it didn't even matter who it was, he knew the face of a whore that loved being fucked dumb the minute he saw you fuck yourself with your fingers when jay pulled jake away. he chuckled, when he saw that.
desperate little thing, he was curious to see if you could manage to face them tomorrow or they could wake up and you'd already taken all your things and left. the embarrassment being too much for a sweet baby like you to handle.
jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i can't explain it. all i know is, the moment i entered her room, i was gone. i really don't know what would've happened to her."
heeseung's eyes narrowed slightly, calculating. he had been watching everyone's reactions, noting their weaknesses and desires. it was clear that competition for you was fierce, and he intended to come out on top. he would bide his time, wait for the perfect moment to make his move.
he could see the desperation in jake's eyes, the frustration in jungwon's, and he knew he had to play his cards right.
"thanks for stepping in, jake," jungwon added, his voice laced with a hint of resentment. "although you ended up getting to her first."
"i'm sorry, man," jake apologized, his voice earnest. "i just lost control and didn't want you to beat me to it. it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, i promise." he stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"if any of you were in my shoes, you'd understand and do the same exact thing!" jake continued, his voice rising in defense.
the group fell into a contemplative silence, the tension easing slightly, but the undercurrent of desire still very much present. sunghoon broke the quiet with a chuckle.
"jake, you even licked the spot where she was sitting," sunghoon said, his voice laced with amusement.
jake groaned, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
jay chuckled, his eyes tinged with concern as he looked at you, fast asleep. "it's hard on everyone. we just have to manage and apologize to her when she wakes up."
jungwon leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes, silently listening to his members. he was feeling exhausted, but he couldn't help but glance over at you, your sweet voice echoing in his mind as you called his name.
sunghoon's expression shifted from playful to serious as he turned to jay. "jay, how do you know so much about this necklace anyway?"
but sunghoon's thoughts were far from innocent.
he remembered vividly how you had begged him earlier, your eyes filled with a desperate need that had nearly broken his resolve. the memory of your voice, pleading for his touch, sent a shiver down his spine. he had wanted to give in, to claim you right then and there, but he had held back, knowing that the others were watching.
he found himself envying jake's boldness, wishing he had been the one to taste you first. the scent of your heat still lingered in his mind, a tantalizing reminder of what he had almost had. he clenched his fists, determined to find a way to get closer to you, to make you his.
as he questioned jay about the necklace, his mind was already working on a plan. he would wait for the right moment, when the others were distracted, and then he would make his move. you had begged for him once, and he was determined to make sure you would beg for him again.
jay's analytical mind kicked in. "i've come across omegas with these necklaces before. as far as i know, it's a method to help manage their pheromones. so, if her scent is this strong even with the necklace, it's rare but not unheard of then it means her heat is going to be even more intense."
sunghoon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "so, she's special?"
jay nodded. "very likely. her scent being this potent means her pheromones are unusually strong so we need to be extra careful."
niki, ever so attentive, noticed the way jay was leaning against the wall, as far away from you as possible, his arms crossed, his feet shifting nervously. niki held back a snicker.
"hyung, you look awkward. feeling it too?" niki quipped, his voice laced with amusement.
jay glanced at you, his composure slipping for a moment. "i'd be surprised if anyone wasn't affected," he admitted, turning his gaze to heeseung, who had also been unusually quiet.
heeseung's eyes were thoughtful, fixed on you intently. "i actually called management earlier. asked if there'd been some sort of mistake."
"and?" jay probed, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of unease.
"no mistake. she was directly assigned to us. a special recommendation," heeseung replied, his tone resigned, as if the weight of the situation was beginning to settle on his shoulders.
"feels like they've thrown a rabbit into a den of wolves," heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.
jay tried to lighten the mood with a wry smile, though his eyes betrayed his concern. "should we be happy or scared?"
jake raised an eyebrow, his usual bravado masking the turmoil inside. "can we fuck her though?" he asked, only to be met with incredulous stares from the others. he shrugged defensively, feeling the heat of their judgment.
"seriously, jake?" sunoo said, rolling his eyes. "she's right here, lying in her slick." his hands gestured to your peaceful figure, his voice laced with a mix of protectiveness and exasperation.
"come on, i know you guys want to," jake muttered, though a flicker of doubt crossed his face.
"we're supposed to protect her, not take advantage of her," sunghoon interjected, his voice strained. but even as he spoke, he couldn't help the intrusive thoughts that crept in, imagining what it would be like to give in to his desires. he clenched his fists, battling the primal urge that surged within him.
if he even so much as tried to get close to you, he probably wouldn't be able to control himself. even with your stupid necklace on.
sure, your scent was tolerable now, but it did absolutely nothing to quell his urge to fuck you dumb, a thought that gnawed at the edges of his restraint.
sunoo took the initiative and gently lifted your delicate frame into his arms with ease.
"where are you taking her?" sunghoon asked, envious of the younger's arms wrapping around you.
"i'm going to give her a bath, and then i'll tuck her in," sunoo replied, heading towards your room. "and yes, before any of you say anything, i'm not going to do any funny business." his voice was firm, though he couldn't help but wonder if he could truly live up to his own promise.
sunoo's expression softened as he carried you down the hallway, your vulnerability evident in every step he took. he felt a fierce need to protect you, to be the anchor in the storm of emotions swirling around them.
the members watched him disappear down the hallway, a mix of admiration and frustration in their eyes. they knew sunoo was the best person for the task, even if it stung that he seemed less affected by your pheromones. each of them grappled with their own desires, the struggle to be better men weighing heavily on their minds.
"hey, sunoo, wait up!" jake called out, his voice a mix of concern and a hint of desperation. "i need to talk to you about something."
sunoo paused, turning back to face jake. "what is it?" he asked, his expression curious.
jake hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "i need to know how you do it. how are you so calm around her?" jake asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity as he stared at your sleeping face, peaceful as you lay in sunoo's arms.
sunoo chuckled softly. "it's not easy, jake. i'm not some kind of saint. i'm just... trying to do the right thing."
"but you're not even affected by her scent, are you?" jake pressed, a hint of envy in his voice.
sunoo paused, considering his answer. "i'm not saying i'm not affected. i'm trying to focus on the fact that she's our responsibility now. we need to protect her, not take advantage of her. she's also here to do the same thing."
jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. "but her scent is... it's all i can think about."
sunoo nodded, understanding. "i get it, hyung. it's hard for all of us. but we have to be stronger than our instincts."
"i know that-" jake said, his voice filled with frustration. "you know i'm never like this, my mind just goes blank, and all i want to do is be close to her."
"then channel that desire into protecting her," sunoo suggested gently.
jake nodded, a flicker of respect in his eyes.
as sunoo continued down the hallway, jake watched him go, a mixture of admiration and frustration swirling within him. he knew sunoo was right. they needed to be better than this. they needed to be stronger. but it was a hard lesson to learn, especially when faced with an omega as irresistible as you.
the rest of the members watched the exchange between jake and sunoo, their own emotions swirling within them. they knew they were all struggling with the same thing. they were all trying to control their urges, trying to be better men. but it was a constant battle, and they were all afraid of losing.
unpacking their belongings, the boys pondered their situation. the day's events weighed heavily on them, the gravity of living with you sinking in. it would be a test of their self-control and respect for boundaries, a challenge they hadn't anticipated.
after all, the presence of something—or someone—irresistible always has a way of redefining boundaries and pushing limits. they could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken thoughts and desires simmering just beneath the surface.
"we need to set some ground rules," jungwon said, his voice firm. "for all of our sakes. no one is to be alone with her unless absolutely necessary. and if anyone feels like they're losing control, they need to speak up."
the journey ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: life in that house would never be the same again. they would need to navigate this new reality with care, each step a test of their resolve.
but before anything else, they definitely needed to apologize. the weight of their earlier words hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the lines they had crossed. they owed it to you, and to themselves, to make amends.
guess it's time to call it a night.
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you stirred, a soft groan slipping from your lips as you stretched, your body still heavy with the remnants of sleep. the events of the previous night were a hazy blur, a confusing mix of intense sensations, overwhelming scents, and a strange sense of vulnerability. but as you shifted under the covers, you felt a sticky discomfort between your thighs, a reminder of just how wild things had gotten. you were still dirty with your own juices, your skin tacky where the evidence of last night clung to you.
the memory made your cheeks burn. how their scents had overwhelmed you, driving you to the brink of madness. you’d surrendered to the primal pull of their pheromones, your body reacting instinctively, craving their touch.
you were an omega, after all—this was your nature.
but there was more to it. the way they had struggled to control themselves, the way they looked at you with a mixture of lust, desperation, and a bit of fear—it all filled you with both embarrassment and a strange, unexpected sense of power. you might be an omega, but you were also their housemother. and you were determined to be damn good at it.
you sat up slowly, wincing at the stickiness that clung to your skin. heat rushed to your cheeks as you realized just how far things had gone. you’d never been the center of so much focus, especially not from seven incredibly attractive alphas.
"oh, god," you whispered, burying your face in your hands. "what a mess."
with a deep breath, you forced yourself out of bed, the sticky remnants of last night making you cringe as you moved. the bathroom was a refuge, the cool water washing away the evidence of your loss of control, but the scent of your own arousal still lingered faintly, a subtle reminder of the chaos you’d been caught up in.
you were their housemother, not their plaything—even if a part of you had craved being used.
stepping out of the shower, you paused, taking a deep breath. you could hear their voices, muffled by the closed door, the low rumble of laughter still tinged with an undercurrent of tension.
another deep breath, and you were ready.
you dressed quickly, pulling on clothes that made you feel in control, and pushed the door open, walking into the living room with newfound confidence.
"morning, boys," you greeted, your voice steady, your eyes meeting each of theirs with a mix of amusement and defiance. the room fell silent as you entered, their surprise evident in their wide eyes and dropped jaws. they’d expected a meek, submissive omega, not the confident and strong presence you exuded.
you stood tall, chin up, a glint of determination in your gaze that caught them off guard. they exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected display of strength from you—but they definitely liked it.
a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you met their stunned expressions with a knowing look.
you may be an omega, but you were no pushover. you were here to take charge, to show them you were more than just a pretty face and a tempting scent.
"i hope you boys are ready for a new day," you said, your voice calm but firm. "i would also like to start with introductions, shall we?"
they exchanged looks, a mix of surprise and respect flickering in their eyes. they may have underestimated you. you were a force to be reckoned with.
"well, good morning to you too, bunny," jake said, a hint of amusement in his voice. jungwon narrowed his eyes at jake, only he called you that, and now jake was clearly trying to piss him off.
"i’m surprised you’re still alive after last night," niki chimed in, a smirk playing on his lips. his casual speech as if he'd known you for years was a tactic he used to make you feel welcome. "the name's niki, i thought we’d have to call a priest to exorcise you."
you chuckled, shaking your head. "well, it’s a good thing i’m a tough cookie. my name is y/n, it’s great to officially meet everyone."
"i’m jungwon, not sure if you remembered it from yesterday, but i’m glad to know you're doing fine," jungwon said, his voice tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and admiration. "this is definitely not the response i- we expected from you—pretty impressive."
"i’m surprised you didn’t break down that bathroom door, jungwon," you said, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "you were practically tearing it off its hinges."
jungwon blushed, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "i… i don’t know what came over me. sorry about that... it kind of makes sense now why only your door is made out of metal."
"to keep your scent in?" jay added, noting that only your door was fortified with a thick layer of metal, mainly for your heat cycles so you could go through them without risking anything happening between you and your housemates. you nodded, and he beamed at you with a bright smile. "I'm jay, but i have a big feeling you already know who we are?" you chuckle, nodding again. "yes, i do. i was briefed beforehand."
"that's great then," heeseung chimed in. "also, we're really sorry about what happened yesterday," he added, his voice laced with concern. "still you have to be careful, and try not to take off your necklace so i don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to…"
at heeseung’s comment, the room grew noticeably quieter. the boys’ faces fell slightly, their eyes narrowing as they processed the older alpha’s words. they exchanged looks, and you could almost see the gears turning in their heads. heeseung’s attempt at flirting wasn’t going unnoticed, and they didn’t seem too thrilled about it.
"oh, so now you’re the responsible one, huh?" jake teased, but there was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before.
"yeah, and last time i checked, you weren’t the only one here who needs to be careful," jungwon muttered, his eyes darting between you and heeseung, clearly not thrilled with the idea of the older alpha getting too close to you.
sunghoon scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "since when did you become the knight in shining armor? i thought we agreed we’d all look out for y/n."
"i’m just saying," heeseung replied, raising his hands in mock surrender, though the smirk on his face showed he wasn’t entirely backing down. "someone’s gotta step up and make sure we don’t all lose our heads."
"oh, please," jay interjected, rolling his eyes. "if anyone’s losing their head, it’s you. i saw the way you were looking at y/n last night."
heeseung chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful banter, but there was an underlying tension that none of them could quite shake. "jealous much?" he teased, though there was a flicker of something more serious in his gaze as he looked at you.
the boys all huffed in their own ways, a mix of jealousy and possessiveness swirling in the air. you couldn’t help but laugh softly at their antics, feeling a strange sense of pride in the way they were all vying for your attention.
"you’re all ridiculous," you said, shaking your head with a smile. "but i appreciate the concern. let’s try not to tear each other apart, okay?"
they all nodded, albeit grudgingly, and you could see the tension easing as they realized the truth in your words. whatever had happened last night, whatever was brewing between you all, it was clear that you were the one keeping them grounded. and they clearly wanted you to know they wanted you and bad.
as you stood there, surrounded by seven alphas who were all trying—and failing—to hide their growing affection for you, you knew you had them exactly where you wanted them.
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as the weeks passed, you settled into your role as the housemother to the seven alphas. the tension from that first heated encounter with jake and jungwon lingered in the air, but you made it your mission to focus on building a strong bond with each of them. you knew that if you were going to make this work, the dynamics between you all had to be solid.
in the mornings, you’d wake up early to prepare breakfast, the smell of food luring them one by one into the kitchen. jake was usually the first, his sleepy eyes lighting up when he saw you. he’d lean against the counter, watching you with a look that was hard to ignore, the subtle hints of desire always simmering just beneath the surface.
“morning, y/n,” he’d greet you, now a regular part of your mornings together. you’d roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.
“morning, jake. sleep well?”
“better now that i get to see you first thing,” he’d reply, that playful smirk making your heart skip a beat.
jungwon, on the other hand, was more reserved, but you noticed the way his gaze would linger on you when he thought you weren’t looking. he’d help you with the dishes after breakfast, his fingers brushing against yours just a little too often to be accidental.
“thank you for breakfast,” he’d say quietly, his voice laced with something more than just gratitude.
“anytime, jungwon,” you’d respond, your voice soft, the tension between you both thick in the air.
then there was niki, always up to some mischief. he’d sneak up behind you, pretending to steal a piece of food, but his real goal was always to make you laugh. his antics were innocent enough, but the way he looked at you when he thought no one else was paying attention spoke volumes.
“play a game with me,” he’d say with that boyish grin, leaving you flustered.
sunghoon was the quiet observer, always watching, always aware. you’d catch him looking at you from across the room, his gaze intense and unreadable. but when he spoke to you, it was with a gentleness that contrasted with the sharpness of his gaze.
“if you need anything, just ask,” he’d offer, his tone sincere, as if he was waiting for the moment you’d need him.
jay was different. he was open with his admiration, always complimenting you, always making sure you knew how much he appreciated you.
“you’re incredible, you know that?” he’d say after you’d done something as simple as organizing the living room.
“i’m just doing my job,” you’d reply, but the way he looked at you made it clear he thought you were doing much more than that.
heeseung was the hardest to read. he’d flirt with you openly, his words dripping with suggestion, but there was a seriousness to him that kept you on your toes.
“you should be careful,” he’d say one evening as he passed by you in the hallway, his voice low and teasing, “or i might just lose control.”
and then there was sunoo, sweet and affectionate, but with a sharpness to him that kept the others in line. he’d sit with you in the evenings, just talking, but the way he’d casually drape his arm over the back of your chair or lean in a little too close told you he wasn’t immune to the pull you had on them.
as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself growing closer to them, each interaction laced with an undercurrent of tension that was impossible to ignore. they’d become more protective, more possessive, and you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at the thought of how deeply they cared for you.
then, the day came when they won 1st place on the chart. the excitement was palpable as they celebrated in the living room, laughter and cheers filling the air. they decided to go live on weverse to share the moment with their fans, and you watched from the sidelines, a proud smile on your face.
but as they interacted with the fans, you noticed something—an undercurrent of tension that hadn’t been there before. their smiles were just a little too tight, their laughter a little too forced. it took you a moment to realize what was happening—your scent, which had been subtle before, was now filling the room, and it was affecting them.
heeseung was the first to falter, his hand gripping the back of the couch as he tried to focus on the screen.
“are you okay?” one of the fans asked, their concern evident even through the chat.
“yeah, just… a little hot in here, that’s all,” heeseung replied with a strained smile, his eyes flicking to you for just a second too long.
the others weren’t faring much better. jake kept shifting in his seat, his gaze darting between you and the camera, while jungwon’s jaw was clenched so tight you thought he might crack a tooth. niki’s usually carefree demeanor was nowhere to be found, and sunghoon looked like he was ready to bolt from the room at any second.
they managed to get through the live without too much trouble, but the moment it ended, the tension in the room was suffocating. they were all trying to act normal, but it was clear they were struggling to keep their composure.
“maybe we should have a drink tonight,” jay suggested, his voice a little too eager, as if he needed something to distract him from the way your scent was driving them all mad.
“yeah, to celebrate,” niki added quickly, his eyes darting to you, silently pleading for you to agree.
you hesitated for a moment, but the thought of spending the evening with them, seeing how far this unspoken tension could be pushed, was too tempting to resist.
“sure, why not,” you agreed, your voice soft but steady.
the relief on their faces was almost comical, but you knew that tonight was going to be anything but chill. the unspoken desires that had been simmering for weeks were about to come to a head, and you weren’t sure if any of you would be able to hold back.
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as the evening settled in, the atmosphere in your flat grew cozy and intimate. the boys had made themselves comfortable, sprawled out on the couches and chairs, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away. you set out some snacks and non-alcoholic drinks for niki, who waved off the fact that he wasn’t drinking with a carefree grin.
“i’m fine, really,” niki assured you, leaning back against the couch with a casual shrug. “i don’t need alcohol to have fun.”
“you say that now,” jay teased, ruffling niki’s hair, “but wait until you’re old enough to join us for real.”
the rest of the group chuckled, but the playful banter soon shifted to more serious topics as you all settled in for the evening. the conversation eventually turned to you, and they began to ask more about why you were assigned to them.
“so, how did you end up as our housemother?” sunghoon asked, his curiosity clear in his tone.
you hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on you. but something about the warm, relaxed atmosphere made you feel like you could finally open up to them. you sighed, running a hand through your hair as you gathered your thoughts.
“my father,” you began, your voice soft but steady, “he was the one who assigned me to you guys. without my consent.”
the room fell silent, the boys listening intently as you continued.
“he’s always been… difficult to break away from. his control over me is something i’ve struggled with for years. when he told me i was going to be your housemother, it wasn’t a request. it was an order.”
you paused, glancing around at their faces, seeing a mix of surprise, concern, and something else—perhaps a bit of anger on your behalf.
“i was tasked to be a housemother who is supposed to provide support and comfort, not… mate with any of you. that was his rule. he made it very clear that my role here was to keep things running smoothly, to take care of you, but nothing more.”
“that’s… messed up,” jake muttered, his brow furrowing in concern. “you should’ve had a say in it.”
“yeah,” jungwon added, his voice laced with frustration. “you deserve to make your own choices.”
you smiled softly at their reactions, feeling a warmth spread through you at their concern. but there was more to the story, and you decided it was time to let them in on a part of you that they hadn’t seen yet.
“there’s something else,” you said, a hint of mischief creeping into your tone. “i’m not as good as i seem, you know. i’ve had my share of… rebellious moments.”
their eyes widened in interest, and you could see the curiosity sparking in them, eager to learn more about this side of you.
“i’ve had a few relationships with alphas in the past,” you admitted, your voice low but teasing. “my father wasn’t too happy about that, of course. but i wasn’t always the obedient daughter he wanted me to be. i’ve broken a few rules, pushed a few boundaries.”
you could see the intrigue and admiration in their eyes as they absorbed this new information about you. the thought that you had a more rebellious streak, that you weren’t just the dutiful housemother they thought you were, seemed to ignite something in them.
“what kind of boundaries?” heeseung asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a bit of something else—something darker, more possessive.
you smirked, leaning back in your chair as you took a sip of your drink, letting the tension build.
“let’s just say… i’m not afraid to challenge the status quo. and i’ve never been one to shy away from what i want.”
the room grew quiet again, the weight of your words hanging in the air. you could see the effect it had on them, the way their eyes darkened with desire, the way their bodies seemed to tense with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all for weeks.
“sounds like you’ve got a bit of a wild side,” jay remarked, his voice teasing but tinged with admiration.
“maybe,” you replied with a playful shrug. “but it’s not something i show just anyone.”
“lucky us, then,” sunoo chimed in, his tone light but with a glint of something more in his eyes.
the conversation flowed easily after that, with the boys asking more about your past, eager to learn everything they could about you. they were captivated by the idea that there was more to you than met the eye, that beneath the surface, there was a complexity they hadn’t yet uncovered.
as the night went on, the drinks loosened everyone up, the conversations growing bolder, the laughter more frequent. but beneath it all, the tension stayed and it kept everyone on edge, waiting for something to happen.
and as the night continued, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could all hold back, how much longer you could pretend that the desires simmering just beneath the surface weren’t ready to boil over.
the drinks kept flowing, the boys were getting looser, their usual composed selves giving way to a more relaxed, playful side.
sunghoon was trying to beat niki at a makeshift game of rock-paper-scissors, while jay and jake were locked in a mock debate about the best way to eat ramen.
“i’m telling you, jay,” jake said with mock seriousness, “you have to let the noodles soak for exactly three minutes. not a second more, or you ruin the whole thing.”
jay shook his head, a grin on his face. “no way, jake. if you wait that long, the noodles get too soft. you need to eat them while they’re still a bit firm. that’s the perfect texture.”
“how about we just eat them and not worry about it?” niki interjected, grabbing another snack off the table. “food is food, right?”
the room erupted in laughter, and even you found yourself chuckling at their antics. the atmosphere was light, and for a moment, it felt like you could all just enjoy the night without any of the usual tension hanging over you.
but then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of the moment. it was a message from yuki, their manager. you opened it, your eyes scanning over the words quickly, and your stomach tightened as you read the contents.
“as a gift,” the message began, “we’re sending over some omegas for the boys. they’ve been working so hard, and it’s time they recharge properly. your presence has been a big help, but they need more help than what you can offer them. the omegas should arrive shortly.”
you frowned slightly, the words sinking in. it wasn’t that you had deep feelings for the boys—your role as housemother was clear in your mind—but there was something about the idea of these new omegas coming in that didn’t sit right with you.
maybe it was the way the message subtly suggested that you’d been a crucial part of keeping the boys sane, or maybe it was just the thought of these other omegas being brought in to meet their needs.
you quickly pushed the thoughts aside, schooling your features into a neutral expression as you heard a knock on the door. the boys looked up, their conversations pausing as they glanced at you, curiosity and a hint of something else in their eyes.
“looks like our guests are here,” you said, forcing a smile as you stood up to answer the door.
when you opened it, you were greeted by a group of pretty omegas, each of them dressed to impress, their scents sweet and alluring in the way only omegas could be. they were polite, smiling at you as you welcomed them inside, but you couldn’t help the slight twinge of jealousy that gnawed at you, even if you knew you shouldn’t feel that way.
“boys, these are your… guests for the evening,” you said, introducing the omegas to the group. your tone was light, but there was a subtle edge to it that you couldn’t quite mask. you caught jake’s eye as you spoke, and for a brief moment, you saw something flash in his gaze—something like disappointment, or maybe even regret.
the omegas settled in, their attention quickly turning to the alphas, who were doing their best to be polite, but you could sense the tension in the room. the new scents were pleasant, sure, but they didn’t compare to yours. you could see it in the way the boys’ eyes kept drifting back to you, even as the omegas tried to engage them in conversation.
as the evening wore on, it became more apparent that the alphas weren’t as interested in their new guests as yuki might have hoped. jay tried to make small talk with one of the omegas, but his eyes kept flicking over to where you were sitting. sunghoon, usually so composed, seemed distracted, his gaze lingering on you even as one of the omegas tried to catch his attention.
it wasn’t long before the new omegas began to notice the boys’ lack of focus. their smiles faltered slightly, and you could see the confusion in their eyes as they realized that the alphas weren’t as enamored with them as they should have been. the tension in the room shifted, becoming something more uncomfortable as the omegas began to feel the awkwardness of the situation.
“are you guys okay?” one of the omegas asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she glanced between the boys and you.
“yeah, we’re fine,” jungwon replied, a bit too quickly, his gaze darting back to you. “just… tired, i guess.”
the excuse was flimsy, and everyone in the room knew it. but no one said anything, the awkward silence stretching on as the alphas struggled to maintain their composure.
you could feel their gazes on you, even as you tried to focus on the new omegas. but it was clear that the boys were more interested in you than their supposed gifts, and that realization brought a strange mix of emotions. you weren’t sure whether to feel flattered, irritated, or something else entirely.
the evening dragged on, the atmosphere growing more strained as it became clear that the alphas’ attention wasn’t on the new omegas. the girls eventually excused themselves, leaving the flat with polite smiles and a sense of discomfort.
once the door closed behind them, the room fell into an awkward silence. you glanced at the boys, who all seemed to be avoiding eye contact, their earlier drunken cheerfulness replaced with something more somber.
“well,” you said, breaking the silence, “that was… interesting.”
“they weren’t really our type,” sunghoon mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“yeah, and their scent was too strong,” sunoo added, his nose wrinkling slightly as if recalling the overpowering sweetness of the new omegas.
“it’s not that they weren’t nice,” jake said, finally meeting your eyes. “it’s just… they weren’t you.”
the words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of them, the alphas had tried to keep things professional, tried to respect the boundaries set by your role as housemother, but it was clear now that those boundaries were starting to fray.
"but maybe you guys could have done something?" you say, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice as you look around the room at the boys. "it’s not gonna sit right with management that you made them leave without anything happening. they could get suspicious… and fire me."
the gravity of your words seems to settle over them like a heavy blanket. sunghoon shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze, while jake and jungwon exchange uneasy glances.
they all know the stakes—you’ve been doing your best to keep things under control, balancing your role as housemother with the complicated feelings swirling around, but this… this was a visible failure.
“we didn’t mean to make things hard for you,” heeseung says softly, his tone apologetic as he saw you were clearly distressed. “we just… weren't feeling it.”
“yeah, it’s not like we were trying to mess things up,” sunoo adds, a bit defensively.
you sigh, rubbing your temples as the weight of the situation sinks in. “i get that, but management won't. they’re expecting certain things to happen, and if they think you’re rejecting what they’ve arranged, they might start asking questions. questions i can’t answer and if they find about what almost happened...”
“we’re sorry,” jungwon says, his voice sincere. “we didn’t think about how it might affect you. we were just… being selfish.”
the room falls silent for a moment, the tension thick in the air as everyone grapples with the implications of what’s happened. you can feel the worry gnawing at you, the fear that this could be the thing that tips the balance, that makes your already precarious situation even more unstable.
“look,” jay finally speaks up, his tone more serious than usual, “we’ll figure something out. we’ll talk to management, make up some excuse… anything to keep you out of trouble.”
you nod, appreciating the sentiment, but you know it’s not that simple. “just… be careful.”
the boys nod, their expressions a mix of guilt and determination. they know they’ve put you in a difficult position, and they’re willing to do what it takes to fix it. but the underlying tension between you all—those hidden desires, the unspoken feelings—it’s clear that this is just the beginning of something far more complicated.
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the boys arrived home from practice, their laughter and chatter filling the hallway as they kicked off their shoes and dropped their bags by the door. the smell of sweat and exhaustion mixed with the familiar scent of the apartment, a comforting reminder that they were finally home. but as they turned the corner into the living room, their footsteps slowed, and the playful banter tapered off.
you were sitting on the couch, legs tucked under you, a relaxed smile on your face as you chatted with kai, an old friend from childhood. he was an alpha too, but there was a casual ease between you, the kind that came from years of familiarity. kai had dropped by to check in on you, as he often did, being one of the few people who knew you well enough to see through the façade you sometimes had to put on.
“hey, guys!” you greeted, waving them over. “this is kai. we’ve known each other since we were kids.”
kai looked up and offered a polite nod, his expression friendly. “nice to meet you all.”
the boys, however, didn’t seem too keen on the friendly atmosphere. their smiles were a little too tight, their eyes narrowing just a fraction as they took in the sight of you and kai sitting so comfortably together. there was a brief, awkward silence before jake, ever the smooth talker, stepped forward.
“so, kai,” he said, his voice dripping with casual interest, “what brings you around? haven’t seen you here before.”
kai didn’t miss a beat, completely unaware of the subtle undercurrent of tension. “just checking in on y/n. she’s been through a lot lately, and, well, we’ve always looked out for each other.”
“oh, have you?” jungwon chimed in, his tone light but with a hint of something else. “that’s… sweet.”
sunghoon, who was standing by the arm of the couch, glanced at kai’s relaxed posture, then at the way you seemed so at ease around him. “must be nice to have such a good friend around.”
kai chuckled, oblivious to the growing tension. “yeah, we’ve been through a lot together. nothing like old friends to keep you grounded.”
“hmm,” jay murmured, crossing his arms over his chest. “yeah, i guess it is important to have someone who really knows you… inside and out.”
the innuendo in jay’s words made kai raise an eyebrow, but you quickly stepped in, sensing the direction things were headed. “oh, come on, guys,” you said with a laugh, nudging kai playfully. “don’t scare him off. kai and i are just friends. always have been, always will be.”
“yeah,” kai added with a grin, “nothing like that between us. y/n’s practically family.”
sunoo, who had been watching quietly from the sidelines, finally spoke up. “well, that’s good to know. wouldn’t want any… misunderstandings.”
kai blinked, finally catching on to the subtle jabs. he glanced between you and the boys, then smirked, leaning back casually. “you guys don’t have to worry about me. i’m not here to step on any toes.”
“toes?” niki echoed, his tone a bit sharper than intended. “what toes?”
you sighed, rolling your eyes at the whole situation. “guys, seriously. kai’s just a friend. there’s nothing going on, okay?”
heeseung, who had been quiet the entire time, finally spoke, his voice calm but with a clear edge of possessiveness. “we’re just making sure, y/n. can’t be too careful, you know? he's also an alpha.”
kai chuckled, getting to his feet. “alright, alright. i can take a hint. i’ll get out of your hair.” he turned to you with a smile. “you know where to find me if you need anything.”
“thanks, kai,” you said, standing up to walk him to the door. “i appreciate you checking in.”
as you saw kai out, the boys exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. they might not have had anything to worry about with kai, but the way they felt seeing you with another alpha made it clear—those possessive instincts weren’t going away anytime soon. and neither was their desire to be the ones closest to you.
as you headed to the kitchen to start preparing a meal for the boys, the atmosphere in the living room remained tense. the usual banter and easygoing chatter were replaced with a heavy silence, each of them stewing in their own thoughts. they weren’t exactly thrilled about how close kai had seemed with you, and though you’d reassured them, the possessiveness gnawed at them.
you hummed quietly as you moved around the kitchen, unaware of the cold stares and subtle pouts they were exchanging behind your back. you were focused on making sure everything was just right for them—after all, you were their housemother, responsible for their well-being. but to them, it felt like you were so much more than just someone to take care of their needs. they were struggling to keep their instincts in check, and the sight of you moving so effortlessly around their space only made it harder.
“she’s way too comfortable with him,” jake muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he watched you from the doorway.
“i didn’t like how he was looking at her,” sunghoon added, leaning back against the couch with a frown. “like he had a right to be that close.”
“it’s not like we can do anything about it,” sunoo said, though there was a sharp edge to his words. “we’ve got rules to follow.”
“rules,” jungwon scoffed quietly. “who’s enforcing them? her father? he’s not here.”
there was a pause as they all considered his words, a new tension building in the air. they knew the rules—strict boundaries were set to keep things professional, to prevent anything from crossing the line. you were their housemother, meant to provide support, comfort, and nothing more.
but the more time they spent around you, the harder it was becoming to stick to those boundaries.
“but she’s different,” jay finally spoke up, his voice low. “you guys feel it too, right?”
niki, who had been quietly fuming, nodded in agreement. “but we can’t—”
“who says we can’t?” heeseung interrupted, his tone cold and firm. “like what jungwon said, who’s enforcing it? if we’re smart about it… maybe we don’t have to follow the rules.”
the room fell into a contemplative silence, each of them turning over the idea in their minds. the thought of finding a way around the restrictions was tempting, more than tempting—it was becoming necessary. the longer they were around you, the more their instincts screamed at them to claim, to protect, to keep you close in a way that was more than just a caretaker.
“it’s not like she’s against us,” sunghoon murmured, glancing toward the kitchen. “we’ve all seen how she looks at us. there’s something there. she just doesn’t act on it because of the rules and her daddy issues.”
“and she’s more rebellious than she lets on,” jungwon added, remembering some of the stories you’d shared. “maybe she’s just waiting for us to make a move.”
“or maybe she thinks we’re not interested,” sunoo said, his voice barely above a whisper. “but that’s bullshit. we’re all losing it, trying to keep it together around her. i know she sees it.”
as they spoke, the tension between them grew, the slow burn of desire simmering just beneath the surface. they were all on the same page, they just hadn’t admitted it to each other until now. the thought of breaking the rules, of finding a way to make you theirs despite everything, was becoming more appealing by the second.
“we have to be careful,” jake cautioned, though his voice was thick with need. “if we mess this up… we could lose her. for good.”
“then we don’t mess it up,” heeseung replied, his eyes dark and determined. “we take it slow, make sure she’s on the same page. but we don’t back down. not anymore.”
you walked back into the room, carrying a tray of food, completely unaware of the decision that had just been made. as you set the tray down, you noticed the change in the atmosphere, the way their eyes were on you, intense and unwavering. it sent a shiver down your spine, though you couldn’t quite place why.
“everything okay?” you asked, trying to ignore the sudden, almost predatory way they were looking at you.
“yeah,” jay said, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “just… talking.”
“about what?” you pressed, curious.
“nothing important,” sunghoon replied smoothly, though the flicker in his eyes suggested otherwise. “just… the future.”
“the future, huh?” you mused, taking a seat on the couch. “well, let’s focus on dinner first. you guys need to eat after practice.”
they nodded, but the tension remained, the conversation you’d interrupted leaving them all on edge. as they started eating, the silence between bites felt charged, the air thick with unspoken words. you could feel it too, that something had shifted, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.
and as the meal went on, they kept stealing glances at you, their minds racing with possibilities, each one more dangerous and thrilling than the last.
the rules were starting to feel like chains, ones they were more than ready to break. they just had to find the right moment, and the right way to show you that the connection you shared was more than just a professional bond. it was something deeper, something they were no longer willing to ignore.
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as the days went by, you noticed the change in their behavior. it was subtle at first—a lingering touch here, a suggestive comment there. but it was clear they were testing boundaries, pushing the limits of what was acceptable in this delicate arrangement. you found yourself torn between the thrill of their attention and the fear of what it could mean if things went too far.
it started with heeseung. he was always the smooth talker, the one who knew exactly what to say to make your heart race. his hand would brush against yours when he passed you something, his voice dropping just a little lower when he spoke to you, his eyes holding yours a second too long. it was as if he was daring you to react, to acknowledge the unspoken tension between you.
then there was jake. he was more direct, his compliments laced with flirtation that left little to the imagination. "you look beautiful today," he'd say with a smile that made your knees weak, even though you were just wearing a simple outfit. "i bet all the other omegas are jealous of you." his words were playful, but there was an edge to them, a hint of something deeper that made your heart beat faster.
jungwon was different. he didn't say much, but his actions spoke volumes. he found excuses to be near you, to help you with small tasks around the house. his touch was always gentle, almost reverent, as if he was afraid of crossing a line but couldn't resist the urge to be close to you. it was his quiet presence that made you feel the most vulnerable, the most aware of the growing attachment that was taking root in your heart.
sunghoon, on the other hand, was more mischievous. he loved teasing you, making jokes that were just on the edge of inappropriate. "careful, y/n," he'd say with a smirk. "if you keep spoiling us like this, we might never let you go." his words were lighthearted, but the way he looked at you, with a glint of something darker in his eyes, made you wonder if there was more truth to his joke than he let on.
and then there was niki. though he was the youngest, his maturity showed in the way he handled himself around you. he wasn't as forward as the others, but his presence was always there, watching, waiting. he had a way of making you feel seen, like he understood the internal struggle you were going through. his quiet support was a comfort, but it also made you painfully aware of the line you were dangerously close to crossing.
jay and sunoo were no different.
jay's protectiveness was endearing, but there was a possessive undertone to it that sent shivers down your spine. he always made sure you were comfortable, that you had everything you needed, but there was a certain intensity in his gaze, a silent claim that was hard to ignore.
sunoo, with his sweet nature, was the most surprising. his flirtation was subtle, almost innocent, but there was a confidence behind it that made you blush. his compliments were genuine, but the way he delivered them, with that knowing smile, made you wonder if he was more aware of your feelings than you realized.
you found yourself caught in this web of desire, each of them pulling you in their own way. you wanted to resist, to keep things professional, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
they were making it difficult, each of them trying to catch you in moments when you were alone, when your guard was down.
your heart raced every time one of them came close, every time their hand brushed against yours, every time their eyes met yours with that undeniable heat. it was exciting, intoxicating even, but it was also terrifying.
you knew the risks, knew what could happen if things went too far. but the way they looked at you, the way they spoke to you, made it so hard to remember why you needed to keep your distance.
and so, their plan continued, each of them playing their part in this slow, deliberate seduction.
and you?
you were caught in the middle, torn between the thrill of their attention and the fear of what it could mean if you gave in. but with each passing day, with each stolen moment, you could feel your resolve weakening, your heart betraying you as it slowly but surely started to fall for them.
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the room was charged with an almost unbearable tension as the photoshoot wrapped up. it was your first time joining them on set, and you could feel the weight of their stares on you the entire time. despite your best efforts to appear unaffected, the nearing heat had started to influence them, making it increasingly difficult for them to mask their true feelings. the necklace you wore, designed to suppress your scent, was barely doing its job, and you were acutely aware of the way their eyes lingered on you.
as the staff milled around, packing up equipment and congratulating the boys on a successful shoot, you found yourself caught in a subtle but intense dance of stolen glances and fleeting touches. the air was thick with the unsaid, the unacknowledged desires that simmered just below the surface.
you tried to focus on anything but them, knowing that letting your guard down even for a moment could lead to something you weren’t sure you could control. but as they moved around you, changing out of their outfits and into more casual clothes, the proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your body was reacting, the heat creeping up your neck as you fought to stay composed.
then yuki approached, his presence as always, calm and authoritative, but this time there was a hint of something in his eyes that made you uneasy. “y/n,” he called, drawing your attention away from the boys, who were now shirtless and toweling off the sweat from the shoot.
“yes, manager yuki?” you responded, trying to keep your voice steady, though you could feel the intensity of the alphas’ gazes boring into your back.
“i’ve arranged for an alpha to accompany you when your heat starts,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, but loud enough that the others could hear. “it’s important that you’re taken care of properly, given the situation.”
a sharp silence followed his words. you felt the air in the room shift, the tension spiking as the alphas all paused in their actions, their attention snapping to the conversation at hand.
"so, yuki, who’s the lucky alpha?" you asked, a playful lilt in your voice as you leaned closer to him. he laughed, matching your tone as he began to share the details.
unbeknownst to you, the alphas could hear every word. sunghoon, who had been adjusting his shirt, froze, his hands stilling as he processed what you were saying. jungwon, already on edge, felt a wave of jealousy surge through him, his expression darkening as he exchanged glances with jake, who was equally tense.
"i hear he’s quite the catch," yuki teased, completely unaware of the firestorm his words were sparking among the alphas. "i bet you're looking forward to it."
"oh, i am," you replied with a grin, your excitement genuine, feeling the anticipation build in your core, god, it had been hell having to be around the boys, you find yourself wanting to give in to them. but somehow, seeing there could be a distraction, a very hot distraction, maybe it would help you sort out your feelings. "it’s been a while, and i’m pretty desperate for a good fuck right now. he sounds perfect."
your words were like a punch to the gut for the alphas. jake, usually so confident, felt a rare stab of insecurity, his mind racing as he imagined you with another alpha. sunghoon’s jealousy turned into something darker, more possessive, while sunoo’s usual brightness dimmed even further, a frown tugging at his lips.
"you seem too eager for this," jay muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear, but the bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. he shot a glare at jake, who was clearly struggling to keep his own emotions in check.
"fuck the rules," jake snapped, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you from across the room, chatting animatedly with yuki. "there’s no way we’re letting her mate with someone else. it's bad enough i have to share with you guys."
meanwhile, you were painfully aware of the effect you were having on them. their stares, once affectionate and teasing, were now filled with something darker, more intense. it was taking everything in you to maintain your composure, to act like their proximity wasn’t making your pulse race, wasn’t heightening the ache building inside you.
"yuki, you really know how to pick them," you joked, but there was an edge to your voice as you felt the alphas’ eyes burning into you from across the room. "can't wait."
“y/n, can you help me with this?” sunghoon called out, his voice smooth yet laced with something deeper as he adjusted his outfit. you stepped closer, your fingers brushing against his as you straightened his collar, his breath hitching slightly at the contact. his eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of unspoken desire, and for a moment, it felt like the world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of sexual tension.
but it wasn’t just sunghoon.
as you moved around the set, you could feel the other alphas’ eyes on you, each one fighting their own instincts, trying to maintain some semblance of control. heeseung, usually so composed, seemed on edge, his jaw clenched as he watched you interact with the others. when your hands briefly touched his while passing a prop, you noticed how his fingers lingered a second longer than necessary, the heat of his touch almost searing.
the alphas exchanged glances, jealousy simmering beneath the surface. jake’s hand tightened around the hem of his shirt as he pulled it over his head, his knuckles white with suppressed frustration. jungwon's eyes darkened, his gaze flicking between you and sunghoon, anger and possessiveness clear in his expression. but before jay could interrupt the two of you, yuki waves you over, beckoning you to come to him and reels you in a conversation about hyunjin, the alpha you were going to meet.
after what felt like forever, and the piercing glares you received, yuki finally decides to leave. and now you were left with the boys, who were just about done wrapping up.
“you’re really going through with this?” jungwon asked, his voice tight as he stepped closer, his proximity causing your heart to race. “letting some other alpha take care of you?”
you tried to maintain your composure, shrugging nonchalantly. “why not? it’s the best option, jungwon. we all know the rules. i can’t mate with any of you. i have needs of my own.”
“rules,” sunghoon scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest. “i'm really starting to hate that fucking word.”
“i’m just trying to do what’s best,” you whispered, but the words felt hollow even to you.
“what’s best?” heeseung echoed, his voice soft but full of meaning as he stepped closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “or what’s easiest?”
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returning home, the atmosphere was even more suffocating. the moment you stepped through the door, it hit you—your heat, crashing over you like a wave, the intensity nearly overwhelming. the air was thick with their pheromones, reacting to the sudden change, amplifying the tension to an unbearable degree.
jake was the first to approach, his presence overwhelming as he came too close, his hand hovering near your arm. "you okay?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous. the concern in his eyes was real, but so was the desire, barely contained.
"i’m fine," you lied, trying to pull away, but the brush of his fingers against your skin sent a jolt through you, your body betraying you, craving more. you couldn’t stay near them, not like this—not when the pull was so strong, when every fiber of your being screamed at you to give in.
jungwon stepped closer, his voice softer, but his eyes were dark with something far more intense. "you don’t look fine. maybe we should... talk."
panic surged through you as it took everything in you to ignore him. your pulse quickened, each step toward your room feeling like a battle against the instincts threatening to take over. but just as you reached the hallway, heeseung stepped into your path, blocking your escape with an intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.
"where do you think you’re going?"
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── .✦⸝⸝ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. open!
𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝?
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anthurak · 8 months
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Something I really like about both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss is that while romance is a big aspect of both shows, they aren't actually all that much about characters falling in love so much as they are about BEING in love. Or rather, in a relationship.
Just look at how many romances are already firmly established at the start of the respective shows: The M&Ms and Fizzarolli/Ozzie in Helluva Boss, heck the main heroine of Hazbin STARTS the show already in a loving relationship with her partner.
And as for the two major developing 'slow-burn' romances, those are clearly not about something as simple as two characters 'having to admit their feelings' but rather more about two people needing to work and figure out an actual relationship with each other.
Heck, Blitzo and Stolas are technically already in a relationship, just a super messy and dysfunctional one that can't continue in it's current state and needs both members to work out something better. Meanwhile Angel and Husk have more or less made their mutual attraction fairly apparent at this point, and it's clear that any real challenge in building a relationship will come in working through their respective issues.
There really aren't any major romances in either of these shows that are the standard, straightforward 'these two just need to admit their feelings and have a big confession and everything's great' love story. Instead they're much more about people in or figuring out actual relationships.
And I think that makes them both feel like something really special.
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bleghxy · 10 months
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More GL manga recs:
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Summary: Aya is a high school student who is captivated by the mysterious "Onii-san" who works at a CD store. The real "Onii-san" is actually Mitsuki, a girl in her class with whom she had never spoken to before.
Review: This is a very cute read!!! The story doesn't drag out any drama. When I first started reading this, I was afraid it'd drag the secret of Mitsuki being the "Onii-san" but it doesn't. It's very well paced while also being a slow burn. They're both very well written.
Status: Ongoing
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Summary: Bubbly, energetic first-year high school student Himari falls head over heels for her senpai Yori after hearing her band perform on the first day of school. Himari tells Yori she just loves her, and to Himari's surprise, Yori says she loves Himari back! But when Himari realizes that she and her senpai are feeling two different kinds of love, she begins to ask herself what "love" really means...
Summary: They're both so adorable!!! I love their relationship sm. There's a lot of other wlw relationships in this manga so that's a plus point. There's also some angst here and there. It also has an anime adaptation coming out next year!
Status: Ongoing
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Summary: England, the early 1900s. Alice, a young noblewoman, has a Japanese maid named Hanako working in her household. The two have a fairly typical relationship…until the day Alice begs Hanako to kill her. As Hanako tries to figure out why her mistress would make such a terrible request, she and Alice grow closer until an entirely new feeling begins to blossom between them.
Review: The summary doesn't really do justice to the manga's plot but I don't want to say much because I'll mistakenly give out spoilers so I'll just say it's angsty so prepare yourself for that. Both of the characters and the relationship between them are very well written.
Status: Completed
Okay this isn't a manga, it's a manhua(chinese comic). I haven't read enough GL manhua to make a list about it so I'm putting it here. This manhua is called Tamen de Gushi. I think the English translation of the story name is called "Their Story"/ "SQ begin w/your name"
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Summary: The funny romantic story of how Qiu Tong and Sun Jing met and fell in love.
Review: It was one of my first GLs so it has a very special place in my heart. I laughed a lot while reading this. It's mostly on the comedy side. Qiu Tong and Sun Jing's relationship is so so adorable. The side characters in this story are also lovable. The characters in this feel very relatable. Unfortunately due to censorship in China the author had been told to remove the confession scene of the main characters in the physical copies and the author rejected to do that. Because of this, the manhua doesn't have proper chapters anymore but the author still does post little snippets of their life together on weibo and twitter. However there's still 200+ chapters of wholesomeness so please do give it a read!
If you want more GL recs:
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kallypsowrites · 1 month
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I feel like I've seen so many TV cancellation announcements for stuff that I might've watched but now might not. And it really just emphasizes how much the current system is eating itself.
Binge culture means that people are expected to consume a show right as it drops. Because so many shows are binged now, even weekly shows are held to the same standard. If they don't perform well during the initial release, they are written off because binge numbers are the numbers that matter.
So you get more and more people who are afraid to get invested in shows because it might get canceled on a cliffhanger. Because of that, they don't tune in to watch something until they're sure its going to continue. So the next bingeable show gets less viewers. It gets canceled. More people join the 'I'm not going to watch yet because I'm afraid to get invested' crowd. Less people watch TV.
And it sucks because people like this are often the most ardent fans of a work--the ones who will write fanfiction and make fanart and write long analytical posts convincing people to watch a show. The people who will make a new show their whole personality because that's how hyperfixation works. I am amongst that crowd. I can't let myself get invested in something anymore unless I know that I'm going to get emotional payoff.
TV execs have been continuously breaking trust with fandom spaces for the past several years. They don't give shows a chance to find their legs, to grow an audience, to gain a cult following. They kill something in it's cradle in service to the numbers.
And it's not just the fans who suffer because of this. It's writer's rooms. I'm going to school right now for screenwriting and its BAD out there. So many writers who pour their heart and soul into a concept only to never get to bring it to fruition. There's no room for slow burns. For thoughtful storytelling. For trusting the audience. There's no room for real creativity. So the shows that do get renewed are often competent but uninspired or sequel/franchise content. Cause that's what gets views.
I cannot imagine how disheartening it is as a writer to start so many projects and never get to finish them. Think about your own writing. If you were working on a fanfiction but knew at any moment someone could stop you updating because you aren't getting enough hits/kudos, would you find joy in that anymore? I sure wouldn't.
I believe that a lot of the best storytelling is going to come out of indie spaces in the next few years--writers and artists moving outside of Hollywood and making their own low budget stories. Because it's almost impossible to thrive within the current system.
It's not the writer's fault. It's not the fan's fault. It's the way TV has become. And its going to crash and burn and I'm sure execs will find a way to blame anything but the system they created.
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keravnous · 1 year
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desperado! ; tangerine/fem!reader (smut 18+)
read pt. 1 here | read pt. 3 here | read pt. 4 here
The Twins are laying low in Amsterdam. Growing bored of being stuck in the hideout all day, Tangerine decides to explore what the shifty parts of the city have to offer at night.
word count: 12,9k
warnings: i mean if atj can dance then tangerine can too, tango dancing bc it's very sexy and steamy ok; car sex, head while driving, oral (male receiving), masturbation (female), fingering, rough and passionate sex, undernegotiated kinks: (light) spanking, daddy kink (once or twice), unprotected sex, choking, pet names, dirty talk, name calling, hotel sex; they steal a car bc why not, short intro from tangerine's pov, small glimpses into his dysfunctionality, rather slow story development at the beginning, i still have very strong feelings about this angry man so please, have this
title is from the song of the same name, desperado by rihanna
the songs they're dancing to are esta noche en vivo by carlos libedinsky and otra luna by narcotango
mel said: kinda sad we didnt get to suck his dick in bathroom b!tch and I said: same
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The air is still warm and a little humid despite the late hour, filled with laughter and the sweet, sweet smell of alcohol and marihuana, sweat and summer. Tangerine takes another drag from his cigarette, watches how the smoke curls into the dark sky, illuminated by the colourful lights of the city. He takes a deep breath.
He sighs, relishes in the way his shoulders relax. He feels alive -- again; finally. It's a real relief, has his limbs going a little slack. He had felt anger clawing at his chest for the past week now, the beast inside ripping his skin to shreds and lashing out with its razor-sharp claws - mostly at his brother. But since he had left the flat about an hour ago it has been curled up rather peacefully in his chest, with a satisfied purr in sync with his heartbeat.
Next to him, the water in the canals lays calmly, reflecting the city's lights and echoing the clinking of glasses and music that wafts through the streets. Tangerine passes by a restaurant, people sitting outside under string lights, drinking, chatting, eating and he watches them as he strolls by. They radiate happiness and it catches onto him like a wave, has him smiling at the sight. He takes another drag of his cigarette, enjoys the way the smoke burns in his throat. Jesus Christ, how he had missed this.
There just aren't enough books, good books, that can keep him holed up in a small flat for a whole fucking month. And thus, he had decided to break - well, bend - the rules a little tonight.
Their contact, Henk, had told him about that one spot where one could get anything: from alcohol to various drugs and weapons, maybe even a hitman. If one's lucky. And Tangerine does feel a whole lot of fucking luck pumping through his veins tonight, making him feel a little light-headed, stardust at the heels of his shoes.
His chest feels light and his feet are practically flying over the cobblestones, a smile toying with the corners of his mouth as he lays his head back, watches the illuminated sky above - exhales smoke, inhales the night.
A group of students staggers by, laughing and cheering, passing a bottle of liquor around. His gaze follows them, nostalgia tearing at his heartstrings as he remembers the times when Lemon and him were just that - young and without a care in the world.
Now, their hands are sticky with blood - metaphorically, he had washed his well and thoroughly after last month's job went wrong - and they are both in hiding. Again.
Lemon insisted it would be careless to go out at night, at any time of the day really - "That's bollocks, mate. You can't just go out, can ya? What if they sent someone after us?" -, but especially if it was just to have some fun. Because fuck fun, right?
But, there is nothing else to do anyways, with the way his brain always, always finds a way back to his own recent failure and how it was linked to Bolivia.
Bolivia -- it still leaves him sleepless and shaking sometimes, just like tonight.
Tangerine had been pacing the living room craving a drink until Lemon fell asleep, and then decided that he needed a change of scenery, something to take his mind of the carnage and its debris.
"Yeah, let's just all go fuckin' insane in that flat, huh", Tangerine huffs to himself, looking at his phone. It beeps, signalling him that he is getting closer to his destination. His feet carry him through the streets of Amsterdam, a warm summer breeze rustles his silk shirt and cools his warm skin as he passes by restaurants, bars and closed book and flower shops.
Eventually, he comes to a halt in front of a launderette: Wassen bij Muriel.
The neon lights inside are on, illuminating the sidewalk in a cold white. He blinks. There is no one inside but an old lady behind the counter and a grimly looking man sitting on a plastic stool in the back corner. He can hear faint music coming from behind the glass door.
To an unsuspecting tourist it would look like a rancid shop but to him, it doesn't. Tangerine knows better, has been to a lot of places like this.
"Alright", he says - lets his neck crack once, twice and throws his cigarette away - before pushing the door open, the bell above ringing.
***
You watch your friend leaning down towards the young woman, sitting in a darkened corner. Your father never wanted you to befriend any of his third or fourth row dealers but you never were one to follow rules, always going for the next thrill, the next rush of adrenaline. But tonight, there's been no rush so far, no tingling of your veins - just pure and blank boredom.
You had picked out your favourite dress in the prospect of being offered to dance with a handsome stranger, even ditched on the underwear to make sure the thin fabric hugged your curves nicely, but the men in here are mostly uninteresting, ordinary - simple dealers or lowlife thugs, street criminals that steal money from unwary tourists.
You watch how your friend, with a quick sleight of hand, exchanges cocaine for money, laughing at the woman like she is an old friend and then makes his way back to the bar. He winks at you and squeezes past a young couple, orders himself a drink.
You swirl your glass between your fingers, watching the remaining puddle of wine running up and down its walls - dripping down like blood - and then bring it up to your lips, emptying it in one sip. The taste is warm and full, rich and you close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to get lost in the strumming of the band's contrabass and the red wine on your tongue. It reminds you of that one time in Bogotá, when you and your father had visited his suppliers - wine and music melting together with the summer heat, having you dream of the jungle, old villages, and the beaches of private islands off the coast.
Your father had dragged you along once more, this time to Amsterdam, despite your pleas not to - "You will have to take over one day and I want you to be prepared" - and you were gladly sneaking away when your friend invited you to spend the night at his favourite bar.
It is a tango joint and a beautiful place, an old basement with low ceilings and a small bar, people and furniture bathed in colourful neon lights. Purple and red are dancing across faces and sweaty bodies - swirling over the dance floor or pressed against the cold walls, tongues shoved into mouths - reflecting off glasses and expensive jewellery.
It is a place where people like you and your friends get together: the upcoming generation of an international crime elite, sons and daughters throwing away their parents’ blood or drug money, getting high and drunk hidden by the shadows of the night, staying awake until the sun rises again. It's a place where people like you mix and mingle with those working for your families, a welcome change to a certain hierarchy at something a civilian would naively call a safe space.
You open your eyes again, as the band starts to play a new song, blinking while your eyes adjust to the dim, colourful lights. There still are couples swirling across the dance floor to the sensual rhythm of the tango, that the small band in the back is playing. You let out a sigh at both, the loneliness and the boredom creeping in on you, and turn around on your barstool to order yourself another drink as --
Your shoulder suddenly connects heavily with something firm and warm - triggering a muttered Fuckin' hell - and a second later the man, who you just bumped into, turns around. He looks pissed, left eye twitching.
"'M sorry", you say quickly, a little taken aback by both: his anger and his beauty. The former doesn't seem to last very long, with his lips tilting up a little, eyes gleaming mischievously while they dance over your frame.
"Apology accepted, love", he has a strong northern British accent, like some of your father's business partners do.
But he is arguably a lot more handsome than any of them are. Dark, combed, and slicked back hair that curls right over his shoulders building a nice contrast to his light blue, short-sleeved silk shirt, unbuttoned down to his belly - exposing golden jewellery. The necklace shines warmly against his pale skin, glimmering purple in the dim lights.
It might be the alcohol and the loneliness but you really, really want to just dart one hand out, run it over his chest and his neck, feeling his warmth and the few locks of chest hair, smelling and tasting the scent of summer on his skin.
You wonder what he does, what his profession is. The 70s porn-stache, vintage Rolex and golden rings scream Miami and you can't help but imagine him in the hot sun, bare chested, blood on his hands - red red red - cutting open bricks of cocaine -
"May I get you a drink, love?", his voice pulls you out of your daydreams and you blink. He must've caught you staring.
You know, that men like him usually mean trouble. And yet, you can hear yourself say: "That'd be very nice, thank you."
He lifts two fingers up, signalling the man behind the bar that he wants to order something and you notice that his knuckles are bruised. Blue and green mixing with the red of the scab, partially healed. There are scars on his forearm, meandering between his tattoos and up up up his arm below the soft, expensive silk of his shirt.
The goosebumps that erupt on your skin are nothing but pleasant as you immediately know what type of man he is. Everyone in here is on the market for something: drugs, love, sex, guns - but rarely does one sell murder. Real, cold-blooded murder. Ruthless, fast, dirty.
He's trying to hide it but watching him as he discusses the menu with the bartender, it sticks out like a sore thumb: the well-mannered gestures crash with his fucked-up hands, the way he's dressed like a drug-selling pimp refuses to fit in with his sugar-coated talk and the way he moves can't hide a lingering anger, like a raging beast pacing in a cage.
It is a carefully put together façade, but it's no use against you. You know men like him and you know them well. They don't scare you - quite the opposite, and thus the pure and utter danger he emits has excitement tingling in your stomach. As fucked up as it is: it makes you want him - adrenaline kicking in, shooting a tingle right between your legs.
He turns around again and you lean forward a little, deciding to make your move soon.
"'S a Mezcal Margarita alright with you, love?", he asks and you throw him your most charming smile, nodding.
"We'll take two then, mate", he nods and slides a few bucks over the counter, watches the bartender pouring liquid into a cocktail tumbler.
"Sooo", the man turns around towards you and grins, shows some teeth as his hand vanishes in the pocket of his linen trousers, pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He's taking a looong deliberate drag, puffing out the smoke, "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Y/N", you reply, gaze dropping to his lips and back up, where his gaze catches yours. He has beautiful eyes, blue like the fucking sea and the purple neon lights make them glow with mischief and smugness - dark and oddly promising, inviting - framed by long lashes.
One of your fingers brushes over his hand, that is resting on the counter. The wooden surface is sticky with half-dried alcohol. His gaze holds yours while he takes another drag of his cigarette. You just might lose yourself in the hue that dances over his eyes.
"And you are?", you say, just loud enough to be audible over the music.
His gaze drops to your fingers that are brushing over his golden rings and he chuckles: "Don't ya try stealing those, sugar, I know that fuckin' trick", and you smile innocently, as he leans in a little, "Name's Tangerine, love." There are cheers erupting from the dancefloor, the rhythm of the music picking up.
You pout playfully and his eyes dance over your face, glimmering mischievously. "Oh", you sigh, "And here I was, thinking you'd may even give me your real name."
"Can't, love, m'sorry."
"Mh pity -- who did you kill?"
"Who said I killed someone?", he's dangerously close now, voice a low rumble.
"Your hands", your fingers dance over the crust of his knuckles and his eyes gleam. For a moment he says nothing and then, towering over your sitting form, voice low and rough:
"Aren't ya afraid o'me, love?"
"Terribly", and he grins at that, his eyes holding yours captive.
"Bet you are", Tangerine hums, barely audible and sticks his cigarette between his lips, one hand darting up, has his thumb gently grazing over your chin.
The touch is nice, soft and gentle but firm, in full control. It makes your chest tingle, sends a wave of pleasure through your body. His eyes flick over your face and you find yourself growing a little hot under his gaze. You wonder is he's going to lean in, ditch his cigarette and --
The bartender places two glasses in front of you and it makes you snap out of it for a second, noticing how close Tangerine got. His thighs are touching your knees and his face is so so close to yours, noses mere inches apart.
"Thanks, mate", Tangerine says, pulls the glasses closer. You watch him - slender fingers getting a little wet with condensed water, cigarette between his lips, chain and bracelet rustling with the sudden movement. There's a thin film of sweat glistening on his chest and it has your thighs clench with raw and utter want, wanting to put your lips onto the firm the muscles, licking his skin clean.
The way his body still presses against your knees, is electrifying and you decide to invite him in more. You let your knees fall apart, making way for him. His gaze drops down and he chuckles to himself but moves in nonetheless, one of his hands gently coming to a rest on your thigh, holding you close and in place. The touch shoves the soft, flowy silk of your cowl dress aside, the slit in the fabric exposing your thigh. Tangerine's hand is warm on your skin, rings pressing cooly against your hot flesh, as he starts groping you - thumb digging into your thigh and you gasp quietly.
"Been wantin' to ask -- what's a pretty girl like you doin' in a place like this, huh?", he says, cigarette bobbing up and down in the corner of his mouth.
"My friend sells blow here", you say truthfully - not a full lie and yet not the complete truth, but you know better than to trust a stranger with your ties to your family's business - and piqued interest flickers through his gaze.
Tangerine then, very languidly, takes another looong drag from his cigarette and taps some of the ash on the counter, holding your gaze with his own. "D'you sell yourself, love?"
You laugh at that, violently shaking your head. "Hell, no."
He chuckles, eyes roaming over your face. "Well, looks like I got myself a good girl, then eh?", he knows what he is doing, voice low and deep and you swallow.
"I wouldn't say so", you whisper, "But why don't you come a bit closer and find out?"
Tangerine flashes a grin, shows his bright bright teeth, one of his hands coming up and stroking his moustache while he shakes his head in disbelief.
It's stupid. Very fucking stupid. He shouldn't. He should get the fuck out of here - quickly. This is dangerous. She might be, too.
Instead, he looks up again. Ah, fuck it - fuck the rules. Lemon will get it - maybe. Ultimately, he will, simply has to - with the beast inside rattling the cage.
Tangerine leans in, his hand on your thigh sneaking up, making its way over your hip, your side and then cups your body, thumb digging into your flesh underneath your tit. Your heartbeat picks up as he pulls you close and you nearly yelp, scooting forward on the barstool, your hand coming up and grasping his forearm, holding on to him. "Well, why don't we fuckin' drink to that then, love?", he rasps, the hand resting on the bar pulls your glass in.
With a shaking hand you take it, fingers closing in around the cool glass and you watch him raising his, bud of cigarette nearly touching it. He is exhilarating, demanding and firm underneath the attire of a gentleman and it has your head swimming, wetness pooling between your legs. Excitement bubbles up in your chest, wondering where the night may, will lead.
"Cheers, love", Tangerine smirks and winks at you, both your glasses clink. He is still so so close, your knees still hitting his hips and his tongue runs over the edge, licks the salt away slowly, playfully until he downs half the Margarita in one go, like it's water.
You raise one brow, carefully taking a sip. The salt on the edge of the glass tingles on your lips and the liquor burns nicely in your throat as you take another. It's a hellishly strong cocktail and you wonder if he's a regular drinker. A lot of people like him - call them what you like, assassins, killers, hitmen - are.
Tangerine eyes the glass in his hand, weighs it from left to right a little, then nods to himself in approval while you take another sip. He instead downs the other half of the cocktail and puts the glass back on the counter. It's a quick, routinely movement and you come to realize that you may be right. You decide to not give it too much thought, because he's hot and he freed you from the boredom threatening to swallow you whole tonight and because everything about him has your blood singing with the gleeful promise of adrenaline. You put your glass next to his and look up at him through your lashes. He catches the invitation.
Tangerine throws his cigarette into his empty glass and then leans in again. The tip of his nose brushing over yours, the sensual music entangling both of you as his gaze flicks over your face.
You hook one leg around his waist and he moves in closer, pressing yourself against him, one hand on his arm - to anyone looking over you might even seem like an actual couple, enjoying the night out - and hunger burns in his eyes. His lips brush over yours and you know he's toying with you, keen on him leaning in to fucking kiss you already --
The music stops.
There's sudden silence as the band passes a bottle of whiskey around and the two of you freeze, blinking dumbfoundedly. The silence is odd, stalling both of you but you can't help it, feeling like drowning in the dark dark blue of his eyes, shimmering with green in the purple light. You can hear Tangerine breathe quietly with him being so utterly close to you and it's nice, comfortingly human and you can't help but smile against his lips still hovering over yours, a gentle gesture that is being reciprocated by him.
You're a little dizzy with it too, the alcohol, lack of fresh air and his body warmth mixing together, making you a little unsteady. He has pure and raw want tingling in your belly, your hand on his upper arm clenching around the firm muscles a little, thumb brushing over the soft material. And then, just as the music picks up again, his lips brush against yours: "You don't happen to wanna dance, do ya, love?"
"Fuck yes, thought you'd never ask", and Tangerine laughs, a deep, pleasant sound that rumbles in his chest and offers you his hand.
Yours runs down down down his arm and closes around his, while he's making some room for you to slip off of the barstool and then he's pulling you close again - your body pressing smack against his side as he's dragging you along to the makeshift dance floor.
The crowd still cheers, applauds the band and the bandoneon plays the few first chords of a new song. Tangerine gently takes your hand in his, thumb cupping your index and middle finger as your palm rests against his. His other hand sneaks around your waist and rests and the small of your back, holding you close. He looks at you and you feel like drowning in his eyes, pupils blown wide and you wonder when he'll show first signs of being drunk, with the way you already feel a little warm, light-headed. In a few minutes, maybe an hour you'll learn that he holds his liquor way better than you hold your own.
He is even closer to you now than before at the bar and now you can smell his perfume through the thick cloud of smoke that wavers through the basement's air - he smells nice, deep and rich of citrus and a little of vanilla and cigarettes, reminds you of the summer you've spent in Palermo once.
Tangerine gently places one hand below your shoulder and yours comes up, rests on his shoulder, just as he starts to move to the music. He takes a step backwards, guiding your forward and gently guides you through the crowd - a steady back and forth in rhythm with the tango.
Tangerine's hand still holds yours, guides your arm until it is stretched out and then it abandons your hand, runs down down down your arm very gently, pads of his fingers brushing over your soft skin, hairs on your arms rising. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers cradle back between yours, a smile tugging at his lips.
One of his legs pushes between yours while he manoeuvres you backwards, hand on your waist holding you close. Tangerine presses himself against you, heat radiating off of his body with both your arms still stretched out and you grip his hand tightly, leaning back. You arch your back, raising one leg and hooking it around his waist as his gaze locks with yours. You can feel his crotch pressing against yours, with the way the skirt of your dress hikes up your legs. He is warm and a little hard already, has the breath hitching in your throat and arousal igniting your loins.
Tangerine leans down a little, lips still curled up in smile and then pulls you up like you weigh nothing and you stretch your legs in a delicate, slight split as he twirls you around, your chest firmly resting against his.
His arm presses onto your back, holds you close until your feet touch the ground once more and he immediately guides you sideways with a few long and slow strides until he comes to a halt. One of your arms wraps around his shoulders as he holds you close and you stretch your leg out, your heel gliding forward over the concrete floor of the basement, stretching your leg out in front of you and then gently sliding it backwards into a deep lunge, your body following the movement. You lean back and Tangerine follows, leans down and towers over your body.
He holds you there for a moment, chest rising and falling, brows furrowed a little before he carefully helps you back up - immediately embracing your body once more.
The music speeds up and so does he while guiding you over the dancefloor, face close to yours with unbreaking eye contact as you swirl over the concrete.
At the next strum of the contrabass, you take a step back, arching your back. Very playfully you sway your hips, shoulders loosely following while one of hands rests on his forearm, the other lays in his hand, feet tapping the floor rhythmically with the movement of your hips.
You know that he has a perfect view of your body, your hard nipples being visible through the thin fabric of your dress. His gaze drops down, watches how the silk plays with your curves, eyes growing a little darker. You move in and Tangerine pulls you close, your hand intertwined with his resting on his chest and his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, moustache tingling. "No underwear, I reckon, love?", he hums, the fingers of his other hand brushing over your waist.
And you shake your head, whispering: "No, none", and it has his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, a low chuckle escaping his throat. "Fuck me", he breathes and holds you close while moving over the dancefloor, one hand gently but firmly resting on your ass cheek, hiking the hem of your dress up a little.
The touch ignites you and you press against him, leaning in, nose brushing over his jaw, eyelids fluttering. You are pressed against each other, movements slowing down and blooming into a languid sensuality in dance: long strides, toying with him a little - turning your head away, stretching your arm out, only for his hand to gently caress it - feet wrapping around his calf, leg pushing between his. Tangerine is patient with the little game you are playing, unerringly keeping the lead and you in your place.
You wonder if he fucks like he dances. It makes your skin going hot, imagination running wild and breath hitching.
The song ebbs and the crowd applauds and the two of you come to a halt as well, but not parting, not partaking in the celebration of the band. You are clawing to him, breath going fast and heavy and so does his, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His hand momentarily rejects your waist to brush through his hair and then returns. His touch is firm, a little rough and you sigh contently.
Some people are looking your way, intrigued by what got over the two of you, enticed by each other and oblivious to the surrounding world. It's a dangerous thing - letting your guard down, for both of you - but you couldn't care less.
Tangerine smirks down at you and licks his lips. "D'ya know what ya do to me, dove?", he says quietly and you know but you feel the same, and thus, your hand brushes over his shoulder to his neck and you nestle your bods against his.
You wonder if he can feel your raising heartbeat, smell the lust and the excitement spreading in your body. You look up at him, fingers burying themselves in his locks.
"Mhm - do you?", you reply just as quietly and Tangerine chuckles, eyes falling shut.
Your bodies stay like that, closely pressing against each other with the music picking back up. You gently rest your forehead on his temple, leaning onto him as he holds you close. You can't help it, you just want to fucking touch him and your hand runs over his shoulder to the front, gently moves up his throat and then cups his jaw, fingers brushing over the clean-shaven skin. It's soft and warm and you can feel, hear him take a deep breath.
Moving across the floor slowly, Tangerine's body turns into an anchor for your long, ardent strides; his strong arms holding you up during each turn, muscles twitching beneath your touch. He is so so close to you, so warm - each one of his steps lingering with desire and it washes over you like a wave, has the hairs on your body standing up.
You sink against him, falling into his embrace, arms clinging around his neck and his hand is pressed on your shoulder, the other remains in the air uselessly as he looks down in surprise, brows furrowed. He can see, feel your chest heaving, a quiet whimper escaping your mouth.
Then, his lips curl into a smug grin.
Tangerine carefully twirls you around, hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer. Your back rests against his chest and you can feel the tip of his nose brushing through your hair as his hands move over your body - one resting on your belly, the other gently cupping you below your breast, feeling the way your heart races against your ribcage, and his touch sends shivers down your spine, has arousal shooting right between your legs. You remain this way for a few beats, the blood in your veins pumping with the rhythm of the music, feeling his strong frame pressing against you - his breath on your temple and his cologne wrapping you in. His body radiates warmth and you can feel his chest rising against your back, his hardening dick pressing against your ass.
Lust tingles in your stomach looking up at him and, at the next strum of the contrabass, you take his hand and twirl out of his embrace. Tangerine follows and pulls you back in and your hand crawls up his arm, another one resting on his neck. His gaze locks with yours as he leans down, tip of his nose brushing against yours.
The hands on your back keeps you close, a dark shadow resting over his eyes, turning them into a deep deep sea. He slowly guides you forward with two long strides and then firmly hooks one arm around you, lunges backward a little and you follow his movement, bending your leg and resting it against his groin. His hard cock presses against your thigh, and he leans in, lips brushing over yours before straightening both of you back up, heels of your shoes connecting firmly with the ground. Tangerine swirls you over the floor and manoeuvres you through the dancing couples, until he eventually, when the space arises, grabs your hips once more. You let yourself fall, upper body leaning back delicately, enthralled by his strength and the way he guides you through the dance, and he pulls you back up.
Your hand runs up his chest, fingers clawing at the silk as your gazes lock once more. You suck in a few breaths, his scent clouding up your mind, hand running higher and higher, thumb cupping his cheek and fingers resting in his hair behind his ear, earring pressing cooly against your skin.
His lips are slightly agape, eyes you up and down, while his hand presses you close. "Yeah, fuck, you wanna take this elsewhere, love?", he rasps and you nod, eyelids fluttering with the hidden promise.
All the while Tangerine navigates you through the crowd, he holds you close, blood pumping in your ears with the way the music makes your chest vibrate, his scent clouding up your mind - only him him him.
As soon as you are out on the street Tangerine is onto you again, pulls you close in the bright lights of the laundrette and kisses you like a starving man. His arms wrap around your waist, pressing you against him, tits flush against his chest, as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your hands run up his arms, one of them curling his neck and the other cupping his jaw. You can feel his hard dick through his linen slacks and it makes you hot all over, wetness pooling between your legs. You break the kiss, heaving against his lips.
"Fuck", Tangerine huffs, hand on your waist wandering down, cupping one of your ass cheeks. You mewl, eyelids fluttering. You're desperate to touch him, for him to fuck you.
"My hotel's nearby", you whisper and it sounds so fucking needy, "We could take the tram?"
"Yeah sure, lead the way", and you do, stealing another long and sloppy, hungry kiss from him and then he's pulling you close, holds you by his side as the two of you rush down the streets of Amsterdam - heels clicking, sweet nothings on the tip of your tongues. Some people turn their heads, voyeurism kicking in at the oddly hot couple with the air around them cracking with their energy, watching how the two of you rush by - the woman giggling and clearly a little drunk, hands roaming all over the man's chest, while he holds her close, thick British accent wrapping her in.
That is, until he stops dead in his tracks next to an alley on a rather empty street.
"Oi, wait a bloody minute, love -- would'ya look at that", Tangerine looks down an alleyway and you lean in closer, trying to get a look at what he's seeing, peaking over his shoulder on the tip of your toes. His hand is still resting on your waist, fingers splayed out.
"What?", there's nothing. Just cars parked beneath a warmly glowing streetlight in a dark alley.
"That", his finger darts out and points at a beige convertible.
"I -- that's a car?"
He looks a you, a little offended.
"That's not just a car, love. That's a 1966 Cadillac Coupe DeVille."
You blink, watching him while he eyes the vehicle, fingers brushing over his stache absent-mindedly.
"What are you thinking 'bout?", and it doesn't even take him a second to reply: "I wanna steal it."
Well, that's a surprise. "You wanna steal the car?"
"Yeah, I got this fuckin' thing -- 's kinda like compulsion, innit?"
You raise your eyebrows and he looks at you, lips curling up in an amused smile that's looks an awful lot like Sugar I can't change it, now can I? and before he can come up with something witty to go along with it, you say: "Yeah fuck, alright. Let's do it."
He laughs, eyes you up and down. "Ya naughty little girl, eh."
You can feel your skin growing hot, hand brushing over his forearm, leaning in a little. His eyes gleam. "Show me what you can do, babe", and he does, wraps one arm around your hips and strolls over to the car, carefully eyeing the alley.
The windows are rolled down and he grins. "That's an easy one, love, watch it", his hand brushes over your hip and the touch has goosebumps erupting on your arms, running down down your back and you nod - fuck yes, you'll watch.
Tangerine leans against the driver side's door and reaches inside through the rolled down window. You don't know what exactly he's doing but you can see the way his muscles work underneath the blue silk, as he grabs the handle and then, suddenly lifts the door a little out of its frame. The lock bursts, and for a second your muscles tense, body anticipating alarms going off and reading to flee.
Nothing happens; no sirens erupting - just the door swinging open lazily.
Apparently; obviously this is not his first time stealing a car. The thought of him just taking what he wants does something funny to your stomach.
You peak inside. It is an old-timer, with one large seating bench in the front, instead of two seats. Tangerine is holding the door open for you.
"After you, Lady", and he fucking winks at you.
Crawling onto the seats you make sure to make a little show out of it. You can feel his gaze roaming over your body as you bend down, until you eventually sit down in the middle of the front row seat. Tangerine sits down next to you and you immediately close the distance between the two of you, pulling one leg up, knee resting firmly on the soft beige leather and pressing against his thigh. The fabric of your dress hikes up, the slit exposing your leg up up up to your groin.
The sight distracts him for second, as you throw a look over your shoulder and out of the rear window, into the night. The alley still lays silent and deserted - but for how much longer? Tangerine watches you tensing up next to him.
"Easy, love, just a minute", he huffs and pulls an envelope out of his pocket, takes out a set of lockpicks.
"Oh, so you just carry that around with you?", you blurt out, blinking.
"Yeah", he says casually, bends down a little, trying to get a good look beneath the steering wheel.
If you were to be more of a thief and less of a drug lord's lazy daughter, you'd be able to identify his choice as a Lishi lockpick.
You watch him as he carefully sticks it into the keyhole of the ignition, slooowly starts to move the tool forward and feeling for the contact of the wafer. Quiet clicking sounds fill the humid air.
You can tell, that Tangerine is showing off a little, trying to impress you with speed and precision. He squints his eyes a little, brows furrowing and eyeing the small lock while carefully turning it clockwise.
It jams.
"Bastard", Tangerine curses underneath, pulls the reader of the lockpick back and carefully feels for the missing contact, tuuurns it --
The engine jolts alive, purrs lowly and the headlights snap on.
"There ya go", he mutters, "Piece 'o piss, eh?"
You snort at his vulgar cockney but you must agree - it did not take him more than two to three minutes, from breaking the lock to starting the engine. It shouldn't, but it does turn you on a little.
Tangerine is slamming the door shut and whips out his phone, handing it over to you. "Type in the address, love, would ya?"
You do and then quickly discard it into the cupholder - you want him and your fingertips tingle with it, wanting to touch him and being touched by him. The female voice - uncanny valley personified - of the google maps assistant pipes up and if you weren't so very fucking intoxicated by him you would laugh.
Instead, a fresh wave of desperate lust takes over you and your hands are onto him again in no time, one crawling up his arm, the other resting on his thigh and feeling his muscles work as he backs the Cadillac up. Tangerine chuckles, throws you a quick look before he is steering the car out of the alley.
You are aching for him to touch you, to be closer to you, hand tugging at his shirt a little while you lean in, nose brushing over the side of his throat.
"Jesus, love", he huffs, "Can't keep ya'self together, can ya?"
And you mewl, shake your head and then your lips are closing in around the exposed crook of his neck. Your tongue laps over the sweaty, hot skin, tasting him - his cologne mixing bitterly with his sweat and you hum, gently sucking at his soft skin.
"Fuckin' hell", Tangerine's right hand abandons the steering wheel, coming to a rest on your exposed thigh brushing over your skin. The tone of his voice has your head swimming, spurring you on, encouraging you. Your eyelids flutter as your tongue comes loose:
"Want me to suck your cock while driving?", you say, looking at him - the tips of your fingers are playfully brushing over his shoulder, silk of his shirt rustling under the feather-light touch.
He snorts, shakes his head a little with disbelief, before looking back at you. It seems to click.
"Bloody hell, you're serious, aren't ya?", and you blush a little. You can see the way his Adam’s apple bops as he swallows, eyes aimlessly darting over the road, considering.
The google maps assistant pipes up again, chirps out the directions and then falls silent again.
"Yeah, no, that's a very lovely idea", he rasps, and then: "C'mon love, get to it."
And you do, mouth watering at the same time your sight drops down to his linen slacks, the fabric wrapping around his muscular thighs nicely and pressing firmly to his crotch, exposing the outlines of his hard dick straining it.
Your hand wanders up his leg - feeling his muscles twitch as he hammers down the gas pedal, racing by the light switching from yellow to green - and then sour fingers close in around his cock. It is large and hot through the fabric and just feeling it has fresh arousal pooling between your legs, making you hum, before rubbing his bulge through his trousers. Tangerine's right hand leaves your thigh and comes to a rest on your neck, thumb rubbing over your warm skin and making way for you, giving you some space and encouraging you further.
It's a nice, somewhat patronizing touch that is pushing all the right buttons, has you quivering with excitement.
You make quick work of his slacks, pulling the zipper down - already bowing down a little, stretching your lower leg out on the seat behind you - until you open the fly up. There's a damp stain on his dark silk boxers and your mouth fucking waters, before you pull the hem down. His cock springs free lazily and your breath hitches.
Tangerine's cock is large, cut and a little curved, resting between neatly trimmed pubic hair - vein at the bottom pulsing and the tip already flushed, precum glistening in the low light of the passing street lamps.
You can't wait to suck it, taste it, feel it inside of you -- you are fucking hungry for it, spit pooling around your tongue and heart beating in your chest. Arching your back while bowing down between his lower body and the steering wheel, you put your lips onto his dick, kissing from the base to the top, his musky scent wrapping you in, clouding your mind. You can hear him hum, a nice and deep sound, and the city rushing by through the rolled down window.
Your tongue flicks over the head of his dick, lapping at the precum, circling it. The way he tastes - salt and musk - has your head swimming a little, wetness pooling between your legs.
It makes your brain go mushy, hazy and one of your hands brushes over his thigh, desperate to being closer tohim, to make it feel good for him, caressing the warm skin beneath your touch before you blink up at him.
"Fuck, you got a nice cock", you nearly moan as your tongue betrays your brain, impatiently opening your mouth and letting him slide in a little, feeling him pressing hard and hot against your tongue.
"Shit", Tangerine laughs roughly, hand grabbing your neck as his dick twitches against your tongue, "D'ya even hear yourself speak, girl? Fuck."
You smile to yourself, a little coy, and you start to move your hand up up up his muscular thigh, palming his balls through the linen and then grabbing the base of his cock, slowly jerking him. Tangerine groans, breathing loudly, the city passing by.
Spit runs down his dick over taking him in deeper, pools between your fingers and you flick your wrist, moving your hand in rhythm with your tongue.
The car comes to a halt at the next red light, as Tangerine hits the brakes carefully. Your eyelids flutter and then your gaze darts up, meets his while you are releasing his dick from your mouth a little.
Tangerine moans deeply as tongue swirling around the thick head of his dick once more, his gaze boring into yours. "Isn't that just a lovely sight", he groans, right hand brushing through your hair, while the left grabs the steering wheel hard.
Tangerine watches you, traffic light long forgotten, how your tongue licks over his cock, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes. "You fuckin' minx -- ya do like behavin' like a slut, don't ya", and you smile against his cock, a quiet Uh-huh leaving your lips, before they close in around the tip of his dick.
His eyelids flutter as you start to suck, bobbing your head a little, tongue rubbing over the tip of his cock. "Fuckin' hell", he puffs his cheeks and throws his head back a little, exhales theatrically. The traffic light switches from yellow to green and you let him sink deeper into your mouth - the engine roars. You are certain he's close to breaking the speed limit, veins bursting with adrenaline and testosterone but you couldn't care less, the musky taste of his cock hazing your mind, lust taking over.
You feel yourself growing wet, cunt aching and you surrender to yourself, complying to your body's wishes, as one of your hands slooowly dips between your legs and underneath the hem of your dress. Your fingers brush up your thighs and over your slick folds, mentally thanking yourself for not putting any underwear on, mostly due to the unbearable heat and your skin-tight dress - but it sure does come in handy now, too. Your index finger flicks over your clit, just as his cock slides deeper into your mouth.
It feels fucking nice, the way Tangerine's dick is hard and heavy and hot on your tongue, his taste and scent engulfing you, the way you rub your clit has lust spreading through your body, moaning around his cock.
And then suddenly, Tangerine hits the breaks, hand hammering down on the horn. One of your hands darts out, barely catching onto the dashboard as you are thrown forward. Blood rushes in your ears, hastily sucking in a few breaths through your nose while you sputter around his cock.
The maps assistant chimes up in that second, reminding the driver that he will need to go right at the next intersection but --
"Ya fuckin' prick, imma fuckin' shoot ya in the fuckin' head ya stupid twat -", Tangerine yells and your head immediately pipes up, abandoning his dick and looking out of the windshield. Tangerine is just speeding up, passing by the car in front of him, angrily looking inside. "Ya dirty fuckin' chav, I got a right fuckin' lady with me 'ere, ya git", he spits and the man slowly turns his head. First, he looks at Tangerine, a cascade of insults flying his way and then he looks at you, smudged mascara and spit on your chin, your lips wet with it. You can see the wheels in his head turning, eyes growing wide as they drop down to one of your hands - the one that is still holding Tangerine's cock - vanishing between his legs. The man blinks and Tangerine flashes him the finger, before speeding by.
"Fuck about -- that fuckin' arsehole, love, could've killed ya drivin' like that", he grumbles, throws him one last look in the mirror, "Seriously, where did that prick get his license, the bloody fuckin' lottery?"
Tangerine's eye twitches and you can see his pulse speeding up, aorta pressing thickly against his neck, pumping. He is like a force of nature and a mental image of him, covered in bruises, blood and sweat flashes before your eyes - chest heaving and knuckles bruised, hair curling and framing his face like a halo, dripping with blood.
"You're so fuckin' hot when you're angry", you mumble and then you're bending down again, tongue licking over his cock, from the base all the way up the top, flicking around its head and then gliiiding back down.
A growl, a real fucking growl, leaves his chest, hand on your neck tightening. "You better get fuckin' back to it, love, Jesus fuckin' Christ", his voice is coarse and it gets you going, makes you wet wet wet and has your head diving back in, tongue lolling out of your mouth as his dick slides back in.
"Atta girl, fuck", he groans and then his hips jolt up, pushing his dick deep into your mouth and you hum around it. You start to bob your head up and down, meeting his thrusts - your hand abandons the dashboard to clutch his thigh, nails digging into the flesh a little.
Tangerine moans at both, your hot and wet mouth sucking him off and the slight pain that blooms in his thigh, dangerously mixing with the anger pulsing in his chest and he throws his head back.
"Just like that, fuckin' hell love", his hips buck, shoving himself deeper into your mouth. The sudden intrusion has you choking a little as he hits the back of your throat, spit gathering around the corners of your mouth while you sputter around his dick - jaw going slack and his hand finding its way into your hair, fisting it as he starts to fuck into your mouth.
Holding your head in place his cock hits the back of your throat, steals your breath. Your nose is buried in his pubes, inhaling his scent - sweat and musk - more saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, wetting his locks. You relax your throat and whimper around his dick, the way he uses you has fresh wetness spreading between your folds, squelching sounds filling the air as your finger is joined by a second, rubbing tight circles over your clit.
You moan around his cock, strangled noises escaping your throat while your rock back against your fingers, choking around the head of his cock hitting your throat.
"Shh, shh shh", he tuts, a little breathless, "Daddy's got ya, mh pretty girl? Lemme just--"
Tangerine's right hand lets go off your hair and then you can feel it sneak past your back, a feather-light touch brushing over the silk of your dress. It travels further and then grabs your ass, the sudden rough touch has you moaning around his dick once more. Your eyelids flutter as he pulls the fabric up up up, fists it and exposes you to whoever or whatever may rush past the passenger side's window. Your fingers speed up at the thought while his hand kneads the flesh of your cheeks.
"Fuckin' pretty", he hums, taking another quick look at the way your head bobs up and down his cock, "All over my cock like that, pretty fuckin' slut."
His hand wanders further down and before you can process it, one of his fingers circles your hole, feeling your slick and your plump folds. "Jesus Christ", he nearly groans, "You just love sucking cock, don't ya?"
That you do, whining around his base as the thick head of his dick hits the back of your throat again, with your fingers still working your clit. "Let me help you with that, love", and with that he pushes one finger in, up to his golden onyx ring, nestles it snugly between your hot walls. They clench around him and the sensation - the lingering promise of more - has you squirming a little.
Tangerine gives you what you want, need - finger curling a little, digits brushing over your spongy hot walls, before he slooowly pulls it back out. It circles your hole once more, quickly joined by a second, before he pushes them in again, starting to fuck you fast.
You moan, feet kicking a little and eyes tearing up at the sensation, with his dick pushing further into your throat and your fingers rubbing your clit, quickly has your muscles clench and cunt squirting.
"Yeah, just right 'ere, love, huh? Gettin'ya all loose 'n wet f'me? Such a good girl, aren't ya?", obscene sounds fill the air as he fucks your slick back into you, bottoms his fingers out, rubbing over the spot that has you seeing stars.
Tangerine moans deep in his chest as his cock starts to fuck into your mouth again and you let him use your throat gladly while his fingers pump in and out of your cunt, accompanied by the way your fingers flick over your clit rapidly.
The lack of fresh oxygen has you bucking against his hand, choking and sputtering around his cock that rams deeply in your throat but your stomach still flutters with it, lust igniting your loins and limbs tingling with it.
You can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, heart racing in your chest. Your fucking close and he seems to notice, too, his moans barely reaching your ears through the blood pumping and engine roaring. Tangerine nestles his fingers deep deep inside of you, rubbing over your walls and the spot that has you seeing stars, eyes falling shut and moaning against his cock.
It is all too much and your chest heaves as you finally cum, muscles clenching around his fingers, hips stuttering. His dick pulls back a little, tip resting hot and heavy against your tongue and then, his movements still.
"Open up your pretty mouth, doll, lemme see", he rasps, barely keeps an eye out to the street and you comply, fucked out mind making everything a little hazy, a little slow. Your jaw goes slack as you open your mouth, giving him a perfect view of his dick resting on your tongue.
Tangerine looks at you: mascara pooling beneath your eyes, lips swollen and red and jaw wet with spit and then comes too, shoots ropes of hot cum into your mouth. He watches the way it paints your tongue white, some of it landing on your upper lip, slooowly dripping down, running over your chin.
You swallow and then your tongue darts out, licks over your lips and then darts out, licks his cock clean, too.
Slowly, with your mind still foggy and limbs a little heavy already, you get back up. Your fingers brush through his remaining cum on your chin, wiping it away and letting them slip into your mouth, licking them clean. "Jesus, love", Tangerine's voice is a little coarse, gaze darting back and forth between your mouth and the street, as he carefully pulls his fingers out of you and your body closer instead.
You yelp, pressing yourself onto him, of your knees resting between his spread legs. None of you fucking care anymore, lust tugging at your brains dangerously, daringly. His hand, fingers still wet with your juices, brushes over your waist, grabs your ass and you lean in, lick over his throat, tasting his sweat and cologne.
"Can't wait for you to fuck me", you rasp, hands brushing over his chest, his necklace jingling, down down down, hand brushing over his cock and carefully putting it away, his clothing back in place.
Tangerine huffs, google assistant chiming out a direction, indicator clicking loudly as he sets it and then his hand comes up quickly, grabs your chin hard and holds your head in place. You look at him, deer in the headlights, holding your breath and then he's pulling you close, locks his lips with yours. He can taste himself on your tongue licking into your mouth, pulls you close.
You don't know how you made it to the fucking hotel alive, with Tangerine's hands roaming over your body, lips locking occasionally while he was speeding down the streets, cutting corners and red lights.
The two of you barely make it through the lobby and into the elevator, until Tangerine is onto you once more, presses your back flat against the cold, bronze metal. "I'll fuck ya so good, love", his dick is already hard again, pressing against you through the linen of his trousers and the satin of your dress, "'S gon' be all you'll be thinkin'bout for the next weeks." In a little more than an hour you will come to realize that he is right. You will be thinking about it for weeks. But now, there are only his lips roaming over your throat, occupying your mind and letting you drift back to a hazy, lustful state, with his hands feeling up your hips, your waist.
Eventually, the elevator piiings lazily and the two of you rush out it, like you are on the run from your own lust, hand clutching his as you quickly make your way down the hall to your suite. You unlock the door and turn the dimmed lights on inside. The room's just like you left it, guns and cash on the coffee table, soft light coming from the bedroom on the left. The window there is still opened, a soft breeze rolling in through the light curtains.
Tangerine throws the door shut behind himself and immediately grabs you by your waist, pulls you onto him, hand on your back on your ass as he leans down, devours you with a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth while he manoeuvres you backwards through your suite. Your hands dart out, catching the doorframe of the bedroom and you grab it hard, using it as leverage as you push back against him, your crotch rubbing against his. Tangerine grins against your lips and grabs your hips hard, makes you moan into the kiss.
He breaks it, chest heaving a little. "Fuck, love, imma ruin ya." Your breath hitches at that and your hands let go of the doorframe, wrapping around his neck instead like you're on some sort of fucking autopilot. "Yeah fuck, please", you whisper.
It takes Tangerine a moment, gaze growing a little soft before the beast takes over again, a gleaming dark hue turning the blue into an endless ocean and he hoists you up, carries you over to the bed.
He is carrying you like a caveman would his bagged prey and he tears at your dress just the same, one hand shoving the straps down your shoulders. Then he's onto the zipper, sliiides it down and throws you onto the bed.
You land onto the duvet with a soft thud, tits bouncing a little and his gaze follows the movement hungrily, before he tugs at the hem of your dress, pulls it down and throws it to the ground carelessly.
Tangerine just watches, gaze hungrily moving over your naked form, slooowly starts to undress himself. His slender fingers unbutton the silky shirt, button by button in an agonizingly slow speed. You know he's deliberately taking his time with you and it works, has your body quivering with anticipation and lust, one of your own hands running up your body, cupping your tit. He lifts a brow as he watches you tweaking your nipple and the haughty disdain has your head swimming, legs falling apart. "Please", you whisper, pussy aching for his touch, "--Need you."
The silk falls open, still hugging his shoulder and Tangerine continues watching you, playing with a ring on his finger, just like he's playing with you. It's cruel but it has lust building up in your belly, shooting arousal down between your legs and making fresh wetness pool between your folds in a way that you just know, that his touch will be heavenly.
And yet, impatience taking over, you mewl and in a desperate attempt for any sort of attention - for him to just fucking touch you again - you scramble to your knees, stretching out on the mattress and pressing your body flat onto it, ass high in the air. You know that he'll see it: your wet cunt, glistening in the dim light, hole clenching desperately around nothing. You feel exposed and at his mercy alone, and the degradation and danger of being unarmed like this in the presence of a killer, has your heart racing, thighs rubbing together for any sort of fucking friction.
Tangerine bellows out a laugh, surprised and dark, can't really hide either how turned on he is, and then his hand comes down on your ass. The sound bounces off the walls and has your bods jolting forward, first a gasp and then a moan falling from your lips, hands fisting the sheets. "Ya dirty fuckin' whore", he groans, hand groping your already reddening flesh. You can hear the silk flowing down to the ground and then he is pressing his crotch against you, fine linen against your wet cunt.
It's electrifying, the rather rough material pressing against your soft skin, your slick immediately wetting the fabric as your start to roll your hips against it, rutting over his clothed dick. Tangerine's cock is so so hard, hotly pulsing through the linen and you can feel its curve pressing against your pussy. You whimper, hips stuttering.
"Jesus Christ, love, can feel ya through my fucking pants -- lemme see", Tangerine groans and then grabs your hips hard, stalling your desperate movement, shoving them forward a little. You can feel his gaze dancing over your cunt, hear him whistle lowly, hands spreading your ass cheeks, assessing your slick. One of them comes loose and then --
He gives your cunt a light slap - the slight pain and degradation making your head swim - has you squirming on the mattress, a whiny Daddy, please escaping your lips. Your mind fogs up, all hazy with lust and his perfume, aching your back for him, pressing your chest flat against the sheets.
Tangerine pouts at you, eyes gleaming playfully. "D'you wan'it that bad, love?", and you nod nod nod, wiggling your hips as you chant - a desperate Yes yes yes escaping your lips, muffled by the mattress - hands uselessly darting out for any leverage.
His middle finger runs through your folds and you tremble, goosebumps erupting on your arms, spreading all over your body. He spreads your slick and his other hand comes up, kneads the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks further apart. "Always fuckin' wet f'me, innit? Picture perfect cunt ya got, love."
You mewl, throwing a glance over your shoulder to see him watching your hole clench around nothing. His eyes gleam. "Shit", you huff out as his finger brushes over your clit, feet curling a little and he grins smugly - Bastard - and gives your ass another sharp slap. You groan and then his hands are off you, making work of his trousers.
You watch him get fully undressed and your mouth waters at the sight. Tangerine's body is covered in scars, smaller round ones from bullets and larger, longer ones from knives and nasty fist fights and you want to crawl to him on your knees, kiss and lick them, worship them and him - his body, his tool of death - like he's your very personal reincarnation of Ares.
His dick springs free as he drops his boxers, completely exposing his muscular body to you, dusted on body hair and tattoos and scars scars scars and in the moment, that you can see precum glistening on the tip of his cock, you realize that you had already missed it. You fucking missed his dick. The thought has warmth spreading on your cheeks.
There's a light pat on your hip. "C'mon love, turn around. Wanna see your face while I fuck you nice and proper", he hums and your eyelids flutter, humming deeply in your throat at the proposition, turning around and laying on your back.
The mattress dips as he sinks down on his knees, chest flushed a little - the golden necklace dangling between your bodies - and then he's onto you, crawls over your body like an animal, leaves sloppy kisses on your skin, tongue licking over your nipples, stache tickling.
"Oh fuck", you huff, hands darting out and finding his hair, gently tugging at it. Tangerine's lips move over your throat and he sucks, makingyou gasp, throwing your head back as he marks you up.
"Spread ya legs f'me, sweetie", he rasps against your jaw and you do, knees falling apart. He grabs his dick with one hand, the other one supporting his own weight next to your head, rubs himself along your folds, using your slick as lube. "There ya fuckin' go", he huffs and then the thick head of his cock presses against your hole.
"Fuck, yes", you whimper, hot with anticipation, one hand leaving his hair and clutching around his shoulder. And then, he finally - fucking finally - puuushes in, your hole stretching around his girth a little, dull pain spreading excitement across your body.
Tangerine groans. It's a low and honest sound, has his chest vibrating against yours while he looks down to where your bodies meet. "Shit, fuckin' hell", he says, hand abandoning his dick as he slowly slides into you, fills you up and spreads your walls, grabbing your inner thigh instead. The way he spreads your legs is delicious and you hum, his dick is completely seated inside of you.
He lifts his gaze once more, looks at you. His eyes are dark, a stormy stormy sea, a few loose strands falling into his face, curls of his hair freeing themselves from the hair gel. He looks like a fucking god. "Fuck", you say, lowly, hole fluttering around him, stomach tingling at the sight.
"Ya cunt's so fuckin' tight, love", he growls and you can hear, feel it on your skin, that he is having a hard time holding back, "'S perfect, Jesus Christ."
Tangerine rolls his hips, once, twice and you moan, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulder. "'S good for ya, too, love?", his nose brushes over yours, lips ghosting over your cheek. "Yeah, fuck", you huff, and then he's onto you, licks over your lips with his tongue and shoves it into your mouth, invites himself in. You lick over it, lips locking with his, stealing the air from both of your lungs. It is a sloppy kiss charged with energy and lust, your hands tugging at his curls, making the thrusts of his dick more feral, as he forces himself in deeper, groaning into your mouth. In return you moan, chest heaving against his, tits rubbing over the muscular skin.
His lips brush over the corner of your mouth, breathes against it, stache tingling a little as they move down to your throat, kissing and nibbling at the skin, marking you up.
"Fuck", you gasp at the stinging sensation, pulling his hair and he groans.
It feels nice; the way he is fucking you - you push away the thought that it's dangerously close to actually making love - the way he feels inside of you, how his body feels against yours, but it's also not enough. You need more.
A whine escapes your mouth, all desperate and needy and breathless and his movements still for a second.
Then, Tangerine looks up at you, dark blue eyes meeting yours. "Tell me what you want", he whispers, hand groping your thigh and dick buried deep deep inside of you. You can feel it twitch inside of you and your breath hitches. "Want -- want you to fuck me", you say quietly, "Like - hard."
"Aint' ya just a fuckin' dream, poppet", he growls and then his lips are unto you once more, licking into your mouth, teeth catching your lower lip; licking and kissing your lips until their sore while picking up a faster rhythm, pounding into you.
Tangerine eventually breaks away from you, leaves you panting and straightens up until he's kneeling between your legs - rolls his hips into you with his dick fucking in and out your hole, accompanied by an obscene squelching sound. One of his hands grabs your thigh hard, rings digging into the flesh, and then he's hoisting it up, resting your ankle on his shoulder and you moan at both: how deep his cock now pushes into you and the way Tangerine looks.
A thin layer of sweat covers his cheeks and his upper body, chest and cheeks flushed, a few strands of hair falling into his face as his brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted. You can hear him breathe heavily, occasionally moaning when your walls clench around his cock, squeezing him. He looks like a fucking porn star, with his defined muscles working beneath the skin and the golden jewellery, a soft summer breeze rolling in through the opened window, toying with his hair. Tangerine's gaze is glued to his dick that rhythmically pumps in and out of you, watches the way your juices squelch around the base of his cock, balls slapping against your wet skin.
His free hand runs up your belly and cups one of your tits, squeezes it, rolls the nipple between his fingers - the bracelet around his wrist jingles and the rings are cold against your skin. You hum deeply, breath ragged and fingers clawing at the sheets desperate for any leverage, while his deep thrusts throw you back and forth like a fucking ragdoll, tits bouncing and gasps falling from your lips.
Your mouth falls agape, watching Tangerine through hooded eyes and dark lashes and his gaze crawls up up up your body until it meets yours. It is accompanied by his hand, ditching your tit, and brushing up your neck, cupping your jaw and then falling in the crook beneath it, pressing down. The sudden lack of air has the muscles in your legs tensing and he feels it, too, mischief illuminating his face, his eyes, as you gasp for air. You know he could kill you then and there, watch you as your lights fade out and as fucked up as it is, it has your rutting your hips against him, spurring him on.
Tangerine furrows his brows and picks up a quicker rhythm, hand closing in tighter around your throat, rings pressing down onto your windpipe, and you lay your head back, feeling the stretch as he's choking you. The lack of fresh oxygen has your chest heaving, body surrendering to him and the way his cock pumps into your hole fast and deep, lust igniting your nerves. Tangerine can feel you clenching around his dick, wetting his trimmed pubic hair as you squirt, slick dripping down his balls and staining the sheets below. The beast inside him roars, thrums against the bars of its cage, his ribs and he sees your eyelids fluttering, cheeks prettily reddened.
"Atta girl", he groans, fingers giving in a little and you suck in a few deep breaths, before he presses them back down again. It's too soon and your hands dart up, clutching in around his wrist, bracelet jostling and clinking under your touch.
The cage breaks.
Suddenly, quickly, with the force and speed of a predatory animal, Tangerine lets go off your throat and flicks his wrist, catches both of yours in an iron grip and pins them above your head, down onto the mattress. His body follows the stretch of yours, bending over you, holding his own weight up with a hand that crashes down next to your chest. He is feral and it should scare you, especially as air floods your system again, lifts your mind out of your foggy state just a little, but it just doesn't no fight or flight kicking in. The way Tangerine hovers over you now has your leg on his shoulder bend, too, allowing his dick to fuck into you deeper, delicate pain from the stretch of your back igniting your loins.
Ragged breaths escape his throat while he pounds, ruts into you and you lose yourself in both, the sound of his utter pleasure and the way your body feels: on fire, chest tight with your approaching orgasm and raw lust, pure want, that chews up the ends of your nerves, has your limbs tingling.
Tangerine's hand keeps your wrists in that iron grip of his as he rolls his hips into you, dick hitting your cervix, his fingers digging into the flesh of your wrists. You throw your head back, gasping with each of his thrusts and his eyes follow your movement hungrily, groans as your eyes roll back. There's a strong pull in your abdomen and your hole flutters around his cock, his balls slap against your wet skin.
"Fuck fuck fuck", you whine, high pitched moans falling from your hips as he ruts into you, "I'm gonna cum, oh shit --"
Tangerine's eyes fall shut, a throaty moan erupting deep from his chest when your muscles tighten around him. "Yeah, shit love -- that's it, fuckin' cum f'me", he rasps, forehead coming down to a rest on your shoulder.
And you do after a few more of his deep thrusts, whining and legs kicking a little, shakes erupting in your chest as you press against him. Everything goes white as you ride your orgasm out on his dick, moaning and gasping as he does, too, shoots thick and hot ropes of cum into you, painting your walls and pulsing deep inside of you.
Tangerine moans, coarse and raw and his chest heaves, presses his nose into the crook of your neck - but you barely notice it, too far gone, mouth agape and legs shaking.
It takes you a while to come down again, eyelids fluttering open lazily. There's a hand on your cheek, a deep hum near your ear. "Welcome back, love", Tangerine says quietly and then, "Ya did so good for me, eh?" You mewl, stretching your legs a little. Your whole body feels sore, his cum leaking out of you and into the sheets. All you want to so is to get up and clean yourself up, but your legs are so so heavy and you just feel so so tired. Tangerine seems to notice, too.
"You stay here, darlin', imma get you something to clean you up", Tangerine says, voice coarse but soft and he gets up, just as a fresh breeze rolls in through the curtains, blows them up and sends them flying a little. The forecast prognosed heavy rainfall for next week. The air already smells like it a little - damp and mushy.
The breeze cools your sweaty skin, has you sighing with content while you watch Tangerine's naked form as he is walking to your bathroom, muscles in his legs and butt working nicely with each step.
***
It has been over a week and this is his third night. It starts to feel like a fucking stake out.
He feels incredibly silly. Silly for coming here again. Silly for lying to Lemon - again. Silly for ordering two Margaritas. Silly for drinking both.
Tangerine leans against the bar, elbows planted firmly on the sticky wood, smoking a cigarette. The band, same musicians, play a soft and melancholic tango. The air had cooled down a little after yesterday’s rain and maybe, just maybe, that'll be the summer's first soft goodbye before it will go down in a last great huzzah with a hot Indian summer before autumn takes over the city.
He wonders if he will still be in Amsterdam by then, if he and Lemon will watch the leaves fall. There is an offer for a job in Japan and he is considering to take it. He'll have to talk to Lemon about it.
"Anything else for you, Sir?", the bartender asks. And Tangerine nods, orders another Margarita. The bartender takes the empty glasses away and he stares at the wood. Oh, he's just so bloody fucking silly, isn't he?
He takes another drag from his cigarette, shifts his weight from one foot to another and rubs his eyes. She won't come. He knows.
She just won't. Tangerine did have a suspicion who she was, has heard stories about her father and he knew, as soon as he had laid eyes on her, that he was in big, big trouble. He wonders if he had already taken her away, wanting better for his daughter than a no-good ordinary killer. Did not want the danger in his life that came with a man, who potentially could be holding his daughter for ransom at some point or worse, could get her killed.
He gets it, though. He would probably do just the same.
"There you go, Sir", the bartender says and Tangerine just nods, suddenly feels very very exhausted and just barely notices that something, someone is moving next to him.
"Can you still afford to buy me one, too?", a familiar voice says, "Or did you burn it all on car insurance?" He chuckles, feels a sudden burst of energy surging through his veins, straightens back up and slowly turns around to her.
"Wasn't my fault, 'prick was driving like a fuckin' loony."
She chuckles and the noise makes his head swim, a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. He wants to tear his chest open and claw at it, rip it out. That is how much it fucking scares him. How much she scares him.
"Wasn't sure if you were coming back", she says, casually, calmly like she thought about it so much she's just used to it by now.
"I'm not leavin' that soon, love", he says, signals the bartender that another Margarita is in order.
"Where you going?"
"Tokyo, love. Probably -- most likely."
"Come back in one piece then", her smile is genuine. And he knows, that he just has to now.
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dollyyun · 1 month
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hi hi hi!! if it’s possible could you recommend some good smut writings with plot😫😫!! i feel like a lot of writing these days just goes straight to pound townnn which i don’t mind but i do love me a good plot (with a sprinkle of slow burn) too🥰🥰!!!! Also absolutely love your writing. It’s so captivating and sometimes i catch myself rereading your stories bc they’re just too good!!! love you lots <333
tbh i read and eat up anything and everything, and i also believe that every writing is good as long as it comes from the writer's hard work 🤍🤍ahhh thank you so much for your kind words :( and for reading my works! no worries, i can defo recommend you some, and also i haven't been reading since I was always busy with writing and irl stuffs since last week BUT here are the blogs/fics I've read before which i hope they're what you're looking for!
@ja3yun - since you're looking for a good plot, queen aj serves good plots and i'll always recommend her blog/fics because truly her writing is phenomenal😌🫶🏻
@heehoonies - i've only read the first few paragraphs of her jake 'under the table' fic but i can alr tell that it's gonna be good! do read my bby sara works and her upcoming ones as well🫶🏻
@hollyoongs - my girl, my love, my princess <333 my most fav are spidey jake and deadpool hee🤭
@yanwonnies - now if you're an OT7, especially if you're into those idol au and poly fics, i recommend this lovely writer! i've discovered their 'shared selfishness' fic weeks ago and i was hooked because heejaywon🧎🏻‍♀️
@taeghi - i admire ocean and her consistency in delivering long fics sm.
@yeonzzzn - lovely bec also has smut with plot fics!
Fallen Star | Jake Sim by @h5eavenly - a smau fic but has written chaps as well! love the writing!
World of Sinners | Jake Sim by @gyutopia - im hooked onto this series fr and it's mafia jake🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
to the rescue | heejake by @yvnempire - as a heejake girlie first, this is heaven🙏🏻im defo gonna check out their other fics!
i have more to recommend (i think) but rn my brain already ran out of juice and im feeling real sleepy so these are the fics/blogs i can think of as of now🙏🏻
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Good Omens Fic Rec: Big Name Feelings
FANDOM AU! • Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him. How they ever became friends is beyond him, but here they are: One month out from Prophet Con, and Crowley is asking him to be his boyfriend. Just for the weekend, of course.
Length: 103,997 words
AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥
Best for: Safe in Public, Human AU, Slow Burn, Fake Relationship, Pick-me-up
Triggers: None
Read it here, fic by ghostrat
*Minor Spoilers* It's here! The finale of one of the most entertaining and immersive fanworks that I have ever experienced is finally upon us! I feel like most of you who follow me here are aware of this fanfic or have read it. However, for those who haven't or might come across this post later: I'm begging you to read this one. Buckle up; it's a long post today.
So, if you're not aware, this fanfic involves writer Crowley and fan artist Aziraphale. Crowley, being ace, seeks a boyfriend to shield him from unwanted attention during an upcoming convention. Aziraphale, smitten, agrees to be the fake boyfriend. This Arrangement is sure to work out exactly as planned!
Every one of the author's stories feels cinematic to me. The worlds are always so real and immersive, but this one, in particular, will have you feeling like you're actually watching the story unfold in real life. Some of that is achieved through embedded media like chats, artwork, and Tumblr posts, bringing a sense of reality to these conversations. The rest comes from really rich prose. You'll flow through it very easily, yet deeply.
The use of fandom and a convention as the backdrop for this fic was, to be honest, genius. I've seen attempts before, but none captured the spirit quite like this one. The fandom lore for The Nice and Accurate Prophecy (the in-universe fandom they're in) was rich enough for us to fully grasp the shape and feel of why they loved it so much, yet it never impedes the ongoing story. This story perfectly captured what it's like to be a fan: how friendships develop, how ideas and fan theories are freely discussed, the passion for a shared topic. The con, in particular, will fill anyone who has ever attended a fan convention with a strong dose of nostalgia and love. Oh, and having them in their 50s? Thank you! There is no age limit to fandom!
Having Aziraphale as the artist and Crowley the writer was not the most obvious choice, but it's one that worked amazingly well for the story! Crowley struggles with words and expressing his feelings in real life. However, in stories, he can build his own world and express whatever emotions are on his mind. Aziraphale, who does not wish to draw attention to himself in real life, expresses himself through his bold and beautiful artwork. His specialization in traditional, physical artwork is so fitting for him, though he's not unwilling to try new tech. There is a scene where they stumble upon some street art that Aziraphale had done. I teared up at that scene, and it's not even angsty! Just the casualness of it, how it's not Aziraphale but Crowley who boldly leads them to it, how Aziraphale doesn't sing his own praises. He's not self-deprecating, but he doesn't celebrate his work. He's still learning that he has value that's worth celebrating. At least now he has Crowley to teach him to be proud of himself.
They are both beautifully written characters. It's a real testament to the skill of the author to bring these characters into such a different reality and have them be unmistakably Aziraphale and Crowley. Sure, they're updated for the time and setting, but their souls are still the angel and demon we know and love. This setting is an amazing way to explore the different sides of their personalities. Crowley's asexuality, in particular, was one of the best depictions I've ever read. It brought a new level of understanding to me, and I'm sure many of you will feel a kinship with him. Really pay attention to what's being said here, there's some really deep and insightful passages that are worth analyzing. Like this moment, which may have been a subconscious thought, but again speaks to how deeply the author understands the characters.
This was such an amazing experience as a fan. I've never had a fic feel like this much of an event before. Every chapter drop was so exciting; I never knew what exactly to expect. And now, with the end being over 100k words?? Where did that word count come from! That's insane! I'm sad to leave this iteration, but I'm so excited for what's to come next. So please, if you haven't read this, give it a try. It's such a impressive work, so much time and effort was put into this and you can tell. It's not only a love letter to Good Omens, but one to fandom and fanspaces as well. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this journey
There are some explicit scenes towards the end, but they are all marked and skippable, so I'd say you're perfectly fine reading this in public.
Edit from after actually seeing the finale: no I’m not tearing up it’s just really dusty in this room. I’m being so normal rn 🥹🥹🥹
Read it here, fic by ghostrat
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wangxianficfinder · 27 days
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In the mood for...
Aug 26th
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1. hi, this is for itmf! pls rec me trans wangxian fics :3c no modern au tho pls, thank you!!
In Reflection, Truth by Shadaras (T, 55k, WangXian, WWX is summoned into a woman’s body, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, this is a story about being transgender, Dysphoria, Misogynistic Slurs, Ableist Language, it’s not slow burn if it’s going to be faster than canon, Trans Male Character, Trans wish fulfillment, Canon Divergence - Yunmeng Brothers Have A Real Conversation) has wwx reincarnated as a women and trans!lwj if i remember correctly
You might be able to find a few in our Trans Wangxian Compilation
The waters and the wild by SecretStorm (T, 62k, WIP, WangXian, Alternate Universe, Fairy Tale Elements, Pied Piper WWX, Trans LWJ, Many juniors, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Sexual Tension) It's a wip that hasn't been updated in a few years, but really good! Trans LWJ in a canon-adjacent setting.
try author 🔒withbroombefore; they write a bunch of canon-era trans lan zhan and it's all *really good*
🔒 Water Sweeter by deliciousblizzardshark (E, 8k, WangXian, Historical, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Some kind of fairy or spirit or something LWJ, Intersex LWJ, Intersex Character, Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Thirst Trap WWX, Topping from the Bottom, WWX’s Canonical Cottage-core Fantasy, First Time, Domestic Fluff, Vaginal Sex)
hold her where you want her by damnslippyplanet (E, 6k, WangXian, Gender Changes, Trans Female LWJ, Female WWX, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)
scarcely trust my candid heart by Deastar (E, 6k, WangXian, A/B/O, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Beta/Beta, Demisexual LWJ, Trans WWX, Fluff and Smut, Female WangXian, Partial Cisswap, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, poor LQR is just trying to be a supportive ace elder and doing a great job actually, too bad it goes right over his niece's head)
you can always find me here by ScarlettStorm (E, 15k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Genderswap, Cisswap, yes it's BOTH, trans woman LWJ, cis woman WWX, they're lesbians harold, the excuciating beauty of night hunting with your bestie, who you're very much in love with, and hoping they love you back, (spoiler: they do), First Time, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, gratuitous descriptions of summer weather)
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2. Hi! This is for ITMF. I want a semi-serious (?) And slice-of-life fic. I dont know how to explain it. Just an example like WWX in his yiling laozu ers tells people in yiling that that person who sells talisman from yiling laozu is a fraud. And then it snowballed to people ask his service to banish monster or something and WWX reputation gets better. But the story focus on WWX everyday life like he make new inventation or trying to describe his cultivation. An example maybe something like Just as the Snow Melts by draechaeli or if a modern fic it is something like I Don't Want to Debut! By countingcr0ws or Anything For Wei Ying by panda_desu. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername
Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts) is one that focuses on basically the life in burial mounds
🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, /Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming NHS, Disabled Character)
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3. Hii!! for the next itmf can I please request some dark lwj?? sugar daddy vibes or just possessive lwj? i read a few mafia fics and I'm craving this trope a bit more now .thank you!!!
🔒 At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 36k, WangXian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Revea, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, kind of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)
🔒 As good as by apathyinreverie (T, 6k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, not a good uncle LQR story, but also not not?, Golden Core Reveal, Kind Of, Golden Core Fix-It, Also kind of, Addiction, Manipulation, not between wangxian, just...War politics, Sunshot Campaign, Not As Dark As The Tags Make It Sound, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Tired WWX, Genius WWX, Dual Cultivation, LQR is too old for teenage drama, Developing Relationship)
golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)
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4. Hi! For any future I'm In The Mood For, i'm looking for Wangxian fics that are cozy, like being wrapped up in a warm hug. @emrinalex
crystalized by gusuvibes (M, 25k, WangXian, Modern, Bakery, Pining, Getting Together, Baker LWJ, Nurse WWX, OYZZ in a STARRING ROLE, Bunnies With Bad Names, Elaborate Descriptions of Delicious Baked Goods, Frottage, Eventual Smut, Sexy, Baking, Time) is all cafe, cakes and kisses
🔒 and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen (T, 11k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Professors, Shapeshifter LWJ, Not Quite Necromancer WWX, Mutual Pining, WWX being an oblivious idiot, Fluff, Love Confessions, yunmeng trio, Family Feels, get JC therapy 2020, Kissing)
i’ll have you and you’ll have me by sundiscus (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern, Established Relationship, Marriage Proposal, fluff with a sprinkling of angst (for flavor), Podfic Available)
Love Cats by so_shhy series (T, 14k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Fluff, WWX is wet and adorable in a tree, With a Cat, LWJ had no chance, Don't Try This At Home, First Dates, LWJ likes ducks, WWX does not like dogs, They just have a nice date, picnic dates, Falling In Love, LWJ is briefly less than graceful, there is a spider, but like barely there and totally harmless, LWJ Loves Rabbits, Office Party, LXC is a Good Big Brother, WWX is an excellent boyfriend, POV Outsider, they are in love the world is full of joy, Everything is Beautiful except for baby coots)
The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX & JYL, modern, Domestic Fluff, baby a-yuan, Single Parent WWX, LWJ is a confused rabbit owner, nielan are married, nhs is: xoxo gossip girl, Custody Arrangements, engagement, Confused WWX, WWX voice: if i’m the one with the kid why are you suing ME for child support?, LWJ kills his own love life in the worst way, Happy Ending)
Pigtail Pulling by protos_metazu_ison (G, 3k, WangXian, Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans)
Just Say Yes Series by edenwolfie (T/M, 338k, WangXian, Matchmaking, Pining, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, POV Alternating, Fluff, First Kiss, Declarations Of Love, Humor, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Good Uncle LQR, Engagement, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It)
🔒 yearned for by spookykingdomstarlight (G, 3k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Future Fic, Pining, Rabbits, Fluff, Kissing, Family)
If your heart is in your dream (No request is too extreme) by Spodumene (G, 1k, WangXIan, LWJ's Birthday, Fluff, Modern Setting)
Oh, your love is sunlight by feyburner (M, 9k, WangXian, Drabble Collection, Tags specified in each chapter, But it's all pretty soft and goofy)
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5. I love your blog so much! It helps me find fics i sometimes unknowingly overlook, so...thank you so much! Itmf fics in Lan Wangji's POV, any AU works but if its canonverse, may I request it be novel or donghua canon please? Also have another request for wangxian recs...jealous Lan Wangji because Lan Xichen flirted with/dated/fucked Wei Wuxian in the past (could be a rumour but I'd prefer him to have heard/seen it happen and decide he wants Wei Wuxian for himself)...any AU!
🔒 The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks (E, 67k, WangXian, Minor canon divergence, Angst, POV LWJ, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, semi-verbal!LWJ, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide) Retelling of the novel from LWJ's pov
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6. hii this is for itmf!! modern au or not but just anything where wwx gets pregnant with lwj's child and runs away for whatever reason without lwj knowing that they have a child together and then years after they will have a reunion and the big reveal. I just love tropes like this and idk what tags i have to place to get these results (so if anyone can kindly guide me on what tags are the best to look for these fics, i will be so grateful!!) Thank you!!!
The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism) Both feature Wei Ying leaving because he's led to believe that Lan Zhan wants nothing to do with him.
All The Years Lost by UseMyMuse (T, 26k, WangXian, Teen Pregnancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Single Parent AU, Forced misunderstandings, Forced miscommunication, Mpreg) Both feature Wei Ying leaving because he's led to believe that Lan Zhan wants nothing to do with him.
Family Pictures (Or: “Mark Rothko is very, very dead, Wei Ying.”) by belleweather (M, 37k, WangXian, Kid Fic, Post Mpreg, Modern AU, Cindarella Story, Mistaken Identity, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, art conservator lwj, idiot WWX, (he gets better slowly), shockingly little actual sex omg what happened to me, fake/mistaken cheating, no actual infidelity)
Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, First Time, Getting Together, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Whump, Breeding Kink)
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7. Hello, for itmf id like ask for work in modern premises where lxc and others accidentally or semi intentionally killed wwx and conspired to never talk about it. Lwj is relentless in searching for wwx. Canon period is ok if there is no canon conflict as the reason @best-before-end
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8. Hi! For the ITMF, I wanted to ask if there are any fics where WWX died at the end of the war? I don't know if it's hc or canon but I keep having the thought that he didn't expect to survive the war without a core. I was wondering how it would have been if WWX over did it or something and died. I'm looking specifically for him dying at the end when the sun shot campaign isn't hindered by it, I suppose. Thanks to everyone in advance! @hikato-chan
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9. heyo! can you rec me a canon compliant/canon divergence wangxian fic that
A) has one of them explore his sexuality, identity, all that good stuff
B) has both of them explore the above together
basically i just want fics where wangxian explores and accepts their own queerness and sexualities and it's a verh lovely time, hehe
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10. Itmf fics that highlight how sweet wen ning is, and his friendship with wwx. (Also any sweet-yet-badass wen ning stories, esp if wen ning gets the recognition he deserves, with a good title/respect etc.)
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11. For the next imtf, can you recommend me some of your favorite non English FFs on Ao3
I’m sorry, Good bye by NHaraki (M, 35k, WWX/WRH, WIP, Jiang Family Bashing, Time Travel Fix-It, YZY Bashing) I translated it via Google Chrome and it was fine. It's an WWX/WRH fic where WWX returns to his childhood after the Siege. Stuff happens, YZY throws him into the burial mounts and WRH finds him. It's a lot of healing and hiding WWX. Found family. WC is raised better. It's adorable
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12. I recently finished reading a wangxian fic told from Jingyi's POV and in that post-canon fic, everyone loves and lusts for wei wuxian to the point many believe its not even possible for his original body to have been better in terms of attractiveness. So itmf of wangxian fics with like...sorta similar premise in the way everyone loves/lusts for/is awed by wei wuxian to the point of hero-worshipping/using him as a standard for future spouse, etc. Lots of wei wuxian swooning and sighing about not finding someone better than him and so on please!
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13. any truth spell/potion fics for itmf? as long as it’s not a sad ending i’m game for anything involving the truth being revealed in some manner like this!
🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric) is not quite the ask but its about lwj who can tell lie apart from truth because of a spell his mother gave him
the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster
The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster
when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, wangxian, canon divergence, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, sharing clothes, sharing a bed, fix-it, golden core transfer) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster
All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 65k, WRH & WWX, wangxian, WN & WWX, Wen WWX, abuse, whipping, manipulations, smart WWX, possessive behavior, implied/Referenced rape/non-con, past rape/non-con, WIP) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members
And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members
Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters., hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings.) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members
🔒 this body yet survives by RoseThorne (T, 57k, WangXian, WIP, No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Near Death Experiences, Attempted Murder, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Siblings, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective LWJ, Protective LQR, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Depression, Minor Injuries, Painting, Gift Giving, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL, BAMF WWX,, Jealous SS, WWX Protection Squad) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members
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14. Looking for a fic where it’s like “we just did something super duper gay what happened”
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15. I always see fics about people falling for lan wangji’s cold beauty but for the next itmf, do you have any fics for people are crushing on wei wuxian for his looks or charms? it can be existing characters or ocs, idm!
Endgame wangxian though, please!
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16. Hello! ITMF Jin Guangshan surviving until Wei Wuxian comes back to life, so that Wei Wuxian can take revenge/get justice from Jin Guangshan himself. Thank you!
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17. Based on one of Kay's commentaries on a fic rec, I was wondering if anyone had any fics that put Wei Wuxian through an "emotional blender" lmao.
Silenced by Tasharene (M, 63k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Temporary Blindness, Aversion to touch, Fear of crowds, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, WWX Whump, Hurt WWX, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, world-class troll LXC, see the archive Warnings BEFORE you accuse me of not tagging things!!!) warning- ALOT of angst like alot lot but its a happy ending
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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***
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crepesuzette2023 · 10 months
Note
Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!
You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.
I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.
(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)
My Top 5:
MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.
COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)
SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.
AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.
PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.
For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.
Young Love:
I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:
Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.
Old John and Paul:
Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?
In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.
GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.
HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…
Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:
No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.
In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.
In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.
I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.
A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.
FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.
John and Paul without the Beatles?
Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.
WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.
1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.
TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.
DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.
WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...
Angst, darkness, and courage:
Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.
ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.
SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.
MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.
OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.
SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.
THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.
Light, hope, and fixing things:
There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.
1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.
GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.
ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.
ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."
The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)
FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!
WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.
TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.
CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.
THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.
KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.
More Outsider POV's:
STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.
ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.
WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.
SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.
Not each other's first love, but each other's true love
THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.
THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.
Beyond J/P
WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.
In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.
THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.
TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.
SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.
Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.
This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.
So, who knows: To be continued?
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mrsnancywheeler · 7 months
Text
the river (5) // finnick odair x f. reader
summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back
previous chapter / next chapter
masterlist
4.2k words
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warnings: angst, fluff, this is very fluff heavy as a gift for me being slow and so angsty all the time, self destructive behavior, mentions of death/violence/trafficking, unedited, no use of y/n, Captiol brainwashing, my attempted fluff
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Eventually they did in fact let you see Peeta, his own Capitol hijacking has been hindering the process more than your own. Finnick was glad that it might provide you some comfort, but it still hurts to think that you were more instantly open to talking to someone else then you were with him. Maybe there would always be someone sweeter, more patient, more calming than he was for you. Yes, Conway was gone, and Peeta, no matter what the waters said now, had Katniss, but who could say when all was said and done that there wasn't someone else out there for you to quell the turmoil. Finnick was just as hurt, just as bruised, you deserve someone who could devote themselves to you and that you wouldn't feel the need to attend to instead.
Despite this, maybe he could convince himself that when a love burned like yours did it was meant to be. It was meant to be for him, even if you were worthy of so much more. So he waited patiently outside of Peeta's medical room. They couldn't convince him to do any other duties, follow a schedule, or train. Not without you by his side.
The doctors had tried to debrief you about what Peeta was going through to which you were quick to remind them that you knew all about it since you were the one with him in the Capitol. Before finally they let you in, which Finnick couldn't help feeling antsy about. If Peeta had choked out Katniss, what would stop him from snapping at you as well? The domino effect could be treacherous to any progress made.
“Peeta." You said softly and he looked up, so frail, so unlike himself.
“Are you-" Knock knock knock knock knock. Your fist lightly on the doorframe. Peeta repeated the pattern on the sheets next to him before he seemed to relax. “They're keeping you locked up too?"
"Keeping myself locked up.” You were so vulnerable, so honest. Part of Finnick wished he could have been in the Capitol with you, that you would've instantly been like this with him, so he could've just comforted you without the roadblocks. “Wouldn't let me see you though.
Peeta seemed to get slightly agitated, “That's because she, Katniss, manipulated them! She-" Knock knock knock knock knock. The tapping of your knuckles halted him again and he repeated the pattern. It pained Finnick to know that you could communicate with Peeta, but not the one person who knew you inside and out, who would dedicate his life to memorizing each part of your story.
You pulled a chair forward, foot tapping, “So they've had you stuck in here, poking and prodding?” Peeta nodded robotically.
“He doesn't want you dead, it's all part of her plan, she's a mutt. Trying to tear everything apart.”
This was a bad idea, you'd feed into each other's delusions. Finnick wanted to beg the doctors to call the whole thing off. "The only one tearing things apart is me, that's why he wants me dead. Not because of her, she's leaving for District 2 anyways, if she wanted to hurt you she couldn't." You're getting weepy, knees pulled up to your chest in the chair. “Peeta we said we'd remind each other of the truth, the only thing we have to be sure of.”
Peeta began shaking his head,"That was before they showed me the truth, we only have to worry about yours now.”
"Peeta-”
"Finnick doesn't want you dead, he'd never want you dead."
“Peet-"
He'd become snappier, “We have to say it."
“Katniss doesn't want you dead, she would never want you-"
“No, that's a lie, it's not real. They didn't show you the truth like they showed me!" He was getting more irritated, moving around more.
“If we freak out they'll just sedate us again, I can't be sedated again Peeta. Gives me too much time to think.”
"They'll sedate us because of her, I'm too close to the truth, they don't want me to tell the truth about her. She's a mutt!” He was so earnest that it broke Finnick's heart, but he was also relieved that they hadn't done whatever number they’d done on Peeta exactly to you. There was fear, uncertainty, distrust, left with you, but Peeta seemed almost unrecognizable in his hatred of Katniss.
You buried your head in your knees, hitting your forehead with your hands as your head shook. “Katniss loves you, Finnick loves me, he wants me alive, she wants you alive. Real, real, real.”
Your muttering was drowned out by Peeta’s insistence of otherwise, “She's a mutt! A mutt! A mutt! A mutt!" The doctors took this as their queue to enter, before he became even more hysterical in his persistent utterings. You were reluctantly guided out of the room so they could calm him down and for a second you just stood on the other side of the door. Glancing back at Peeta as you silently contemplated something, brow furrowed. Finnick didn't want to interrupt your thoughts so he quietly observed, skilled fingers once again unknotting the rope.
“Finnick!" He eagerly met your eyes when you said his name so fondly and was shocked to find that you almost instantaneously had your arms around him.
“Hi, sweet girl." It had been so long, but having you initiate something as small as a hug made him feel like he was in heaven. The way your hands crept up to cradle his face soothed the constant heat he radiated, and he could see more of a sparkle of you.
You stayed like that for a while, his arms wrapped securely around you. It was so right, everything was so slowly slipping back into place. “You're here, you're real, you don't want me dead." Your voice was slightly muffled, the sound sending vibrations through his body. The way it was supposed to be.
"I'm here, I'm real, I don't want you dead.” Finnick affirmed, lips pressing against the top of your head.
“Here, real, don't want me dead."
“Here, real, don't want you dead, sweet girl." You slowly nodded before pulling away which he hated, the moment your touch was gone he longed for it. He'd been starved of it for so long.
“They should have let me see him before, to remind me what they do." Tears were bubbling up in your eyes once again and Finnick wondered if you would let him wipe them away like you used to. “I know they're in my head, I know that, I just don't even know the fake and the real anymore."
“I'm right here to help you, I promise I'll always be around. I've got you, even if you forgot who I was or hated me, because I know it's still you. My girl, my wife, my gorgeous, gorgeous wife.”
"Finnick, I love you."
“I love you too." You were back in his arms, sending a pleasant buzz of happiness through them. “More than you know." Everything about you was all consuming, your smell, the feeling of your skin, the chill of it on his, the way you hugged that nobody else could ever compare with.
No, nevermind, this is what the universe meant to happen. You fit too perfectly in his arms for it to be any other way. He could stand here for eternity holding you without any regrets.
“Finnick?" He hummed out a response, he was too lost in the feeling of you. Of how open you were being right now and reaching for him first. “Do you think we'll be able to go home?"
Home. The home where you'd made the bed, where you'd arranged flowers and decorated with the seashells you'd both collected, where his fishing rod was so carefully placed in its spot every day, where every few months you'd pick out a new color and the two of you would paint a room. Well until you'd so much as yawned and he'd insist you sit down and just look pretty for him instead while he finished. Home. Was it even still around? The rest of your home maybe. The beaches you walked, the hot sand where you'd both lay in, talking for hours, the waters that comforted you both. Home. You. If you were here anywhere could be home, but not the same home where you'd both created an illusion of bliss from the harsh realities by playing house in it.
“Yeah. When this is over. Maybe not the house, but District 4, home." In the end all he needed was you to have some semblance of that, but being where it all began certainly wouldn't hurt.
“Finnick?"
“Yeah, sweet girl?" He moved his head to look at you, into your eyes where he could see the whole universe. For the first time in what felt like an eternity your lips were on his, it was like starlight was bursting through his body. He was endlessly proud of you for hugging him, kissing him, but he was occupied with the way his heart was racing like he was a teenage boy all over again. He reveled in the feeling of your lips on his, the taste of them. The way you made his entire body light up with life and joy was unmatched. Slowly you pulled yourself away from his lips and he swore he could kiss you forever. “I really do love you and I'm sorry that I'm not the person you need me to be. I don't want to be a guessing game or all over the board, I really do want to trust you.
Finnick pulled you in closer before moving his hands to carefully hold the sides of your face, "Hey, it's okay, angel. You're exactly the person I need you to be, the person I love. I don't expect you to trust me right away, I'm willing to work and fight for it. Look at you, honey, you've already come such a long way already and I'm so proud of you, you're so strong.” He felt freer, like he could trust how he read you. So he allowed himself to place tiny kisses around your face. Enjoying the way your skin felt against his lips, how soft it was.
“You're too sweet to me."
"No, I just give you the love you deserve and tell you the truth. You're too harsh on yourself.”
"Agree to disagree.” There. There you were. The way it made him want to leap with joy, he was sure his eyes lit up when he smiled, a grin bearing his teeth, as he chuckled and quickly kissed you again. He missed every nuance of you incomparably and each time he saw a sliver return it was like a reward for his persistence.
“You can't disagree with a fact."
“Then stop disagreeing."
“You're so ornery."
“That's a terrible accusation to make about your wife." His wife. You said it yourself, and it was true in your souls and the sea. It still made him giddy though because it meant you were acknowledging it as more than something people told you that you were. You were his wife, he was your husband, what a wonderful way for things to be.
“It's not an accusation, as your husband I know, for a fact, that you are guilty." A kiss to your cheek, “Guilty." A kiss to the other cheek. “Guilty." A kiss to your forehead, he couldn't get enough of kissing you. One taste, one reminder, and he had no choice but to dive back in.
“Well my husband missed a spot.” You'd pulled one of his hands away, playing with his fingers.
Finnick's brow scrunched together in faux concern, “Where? Here?" He kissed your nose.
Your nose wrinkled and so dramatically your eyes rolled. “No."
“What then? Here?" So close, as he pressed his lips to the side of your mouth.
“So close to being on target.” You shook your head.
"Here?” Before he could move his lips to the other corner of your mouth, you used your free hand to pull his face closer and do it yourself. The intricate dancing of your lips only interrupted by a heavy handed cough which turned out to belong to Plutarch.
“Not to interrupt, although it'll definitely help, President Coin and I would like to talk to you both."
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
"I'm not ready to die.” You whispered in the dark of the night, cold body pressed against Finnick’s in the silken Capitol sheets.
“You're not going to die, angel, don't talk like that." He moved to find your eyes in the darkened room, to try and communicate with his own. "I'm not going to let that happen.”
"You don't know what'll happen in the arena, you can't control that. Remember the year the avalanche fell? Or when the rain was acid? Finnick, I'm gonna die, I don't wanna die yet.” He was quickly moving to wipe away the tears cascading down your face and rubbing circles in your back to try and relax the way you were shaking.
"That's good because you aren't going to die in there. Come on, sweet girl, we already have a plan, don't we? You're so smart, you can do this. And we're gonna go back home and be together, make up for lost time. Promise.” He was holding back his own tears, you needed him strong.
"Don't promise me things you can't keep.” He'd keep it, he had to keep it. "I don't know if I can do it, Finn, I can't kill him, he's my best friend.”
"You don't have to kill him, he'll keep you safe and someone else will do it, okay? Sacrifice or something, just don't worry about having to kill. Focus on the strategy and you've got this.”
"It's terrible for me to even have thought about lying to him like that. How am I supposed to keep that up?”
He firmly grabbed your face to steady it, "You have to in order to survive. Everybody wins differently and it'll work for you. I need you to win, sweet girl. I could barely live knowing you were alive but that I couldn't be with you, I don't know if I could knowing you were…” He choked on his own, held back tears, gulping them down. “Your family needs you, the money could stop your mom from ever being sick again. You can't focus on him, just yourself right now. I'm so proud of you for coming up with a plan like that in the first place because it'll keep you protected as long as possible."
"If I win, you'll stay with me? I can't survive if I'm supposed to go back alone, I can't do it." You were hiccuping on your constant stream of tears.
Finnick's fingers softly began tracing around your face, “Of course, angel. I'm never gonna leave your side. Gonna stay with you forever, love you so much.”
"Promise?” You sniffled.
"I promise.” He pulled you further into him, your arm laying across his chest and you buried your face into the side of it.
“Missed you." Your voice vibrated through his chest and it made him feel like he was radiating sunlight.
“Missed my sweet girl so much, was always looking out for you though, don't want you to think I ever stopped."
“I know. No matter what you said I always knew.” Your legs intertwined with his.
"I'm sorry I said that, I should never have said that. Didn't mean it and it wasn't true, I am so, so sorry, angel. So sorry.” He could feel the tears coming, now inescapable. You could die, you really could, and it would be in a universe where he broke your heart, said things that could tear it to shreds, and never got to show you how much he really loved you to make up for it.
"It's okay.” You said weakly. Always masking your true feelings, trying not to hurt him. You were too sweet, he was addicted to how sugary it was.
“No it's not, I know that. It hurt you, it hurt me, and I'm sorry. You didn't deserve it and I love you so much. In every lifetime I know I must be searching for you.”
"You found me and I love you. I've always loved you.”
Maybe in another life he has been Orpheus and Hades was still punishing him by always keeping you both in a constant loop of tragedy. How could you love someone so much, yet the universe be taking every turn possible to tear holes into your happiness?
He hated seeing Conway think he was the one for you. The way it seemed like he truly believed you both were soulmates. But Finnick pitied him too because there was nothing he could do to save him, he didn't deserve to die, but he has to save you. There was no other option but to save you. He'd already begun contacting the highest paying contacts who would funnel money into his sweet girl in exchange for his time, which he would happily give for you to be alive. He could easily focus on the idea of finally being able to be happy with you to power through all of it. To others he spoke endlessly of your praises from day one, how effortlessly charming you were. Panem wanted entertainment and you could certainly hold your own on screen. You didn't need to know the lengths he would go to ensure your survival, he needed you to focus on your own plan.
He needed you to convince him to be jealous, that you loved Conway romantically, at least a little bit, that way all of Panem would buy into it. Who could resist sponsoring a tale of tragic love? It would all be worth it when you could be in his arms for the rest of time. He was sure he could help you overcome any hurdles from being a victor because anything was better than a world where you were dead.
So he couldn't stop the anxious knot on his stomach, the way his heart dropped, his fists clenched, and the tears welled when he watched you through a screen rising up into the arena. The moment it was fully on screen he'd already developed a list of potential environmental threats and what you'd need to find. It was sickening to hear the countdown, to know that there was nothing he could say to you or do except get more sponsors. None of which was helped when the time was up and the wretched female tribute from District 8, he knew he shouldn't be judging her when he'd want you to do the same to survive, but he couldn't help it, had taken it upon herself to tackle you. Finnick could swear he saw his life flashing before his eyes as he watched her hands curling around your neck and he'd never felt so helpless in his short life.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
“I promised you a big wedding, with any dress you wanted, a real ring. You deserve more than a propo wedding from District 13." Finnick exclaimed, leaning back in his chair as his hand held yours.
“She can have a dress and a ring, but it will also help the cause!" Plutarch smiled trying to reason with him.
"Well, the details will be figured out later down the line. Right now we just need to know if the two of you are in agreement.” Coin clarified. That made it worse, the first time had been in desperation so you hadn't been privy to the proper wedding things, but now it would be expected all over again.
“Finnick, we have our whole lives to get a ring and anniversaries or vow renewals. This is fine." You smiled slightly, trying to push away tensions.
“See!" Plutarch was too excited.
“You deserve more than fine."
You stared at him fondly for a while and he hoped you understood it wasn't that he didn't want the legal marriage, he just wanted you to get the wedding you'd dreamt about. He despised the idea there'd be yet another ceremony that wasn't exactly what you wanted. “I'll get married for the propo-" You held up a hand before Plutarch could add his piece, looking towards President Coin. “If I can have a dress, music, dancing, and as close to the traditional ceremony from home as we can do.”
"We'll see what happens and what we can do.” Coin said she was too even and didn't seem at all like she planned on allowing half of it.
"No, I'm saying if I don't have it then I don't want to do it again. Watching two people sign a marriage certificate won't inspire anyone, so it serves no purpose." You shrugged, “Finn, is there anything else you want?"
You squeezed his hand, “No, I just want you to be happy with it. I wish it could be perfect for you, the type we used to talk about."
“That's okay, things rarely turn out the way we want them too. You being there and having as much of a proper ceremony as possible this time, is good enough for me.”
“In District 13 we value practicality, this is a time of stress, could be perceived as extravagant." Coin reasoned, he'd despised her from the beginning. Her eyes were too cold.
"It's a wedding, Coin! To show them that we are doing well, a little extravagance drives this point home.” Plutarch argued.
"I don't want something extravagant like the Capitol, not even a new dress, just something I chose.” Years of the Capitol playing dress up with you made both of you sick of the way each outfit had meticulously designed to show you off.
“Our traditions aren't that way either." Finnick resented the idea that wanting what would have been considered a relatively normal ceremony at home could be dismissed as too lavish here. “We don't need much."
“Yes, have them give us a list of the needs and then you and I will figure out all the smaller pieces to really make the propo." Plutarch nodded along.
Coin stared long and hard, it unsettled Finnick. She wasn't the type of freezing you were, with you it was like the perfect companion to his heat, with Coin it felt blistering. “Okay, give us a list."
Finnick was quick to grab the pen and paper, “The children's choir for the song."
“A children's choir?" Coin sounded unamused.
“Yes, we'll teach them the song. We know it and it's important." You chimed in.
Plutarch kept smiling, “Children! The future, a long lineage to support freedom, it's symbolic as well." Finnick couldn't help but feel glad that the man was on their side and finding ways to prove their wants.
“A musician, music’s important." Finnick continued, “Some sort of net to cover us. Salt water. She picks out her own dress. An officiant."
“If there's no one from our district that's okay, but there's a certain way it's done back home and so if we can't be there I need at least the feeling of it." You said and Finnick rubbed circles on the top of your hand.
“Is that all?" Coin’s voice was too smooth, too without fault to feel human.
“They need a cake." Plutarch interjected.
“If there's a cake then Peeta has to make it. He's good at it and it'll help him focus on something else." You scooted further backwards into your seat.
“Brilliant! It'll show Snow that Peeta is well enough, regardless of the hijacking, to do something like that."
“Fine." Coin relented in her icy tone. “Is that everything?"
You nodded slowly before looking at Finnick, "I think so?”
"Yes, that's all we need.” He affirmed, smiling as he gazed back at you. “All the small details belong to you."
And as you two were leaving he couldn't help but smile when you grabbed this hand and told him, "Now all I need from you is a ring."
The two of you agreed to fall back into the normal schedule of District 13 only if it was aligned. Each hour, each table, all of it to ensure any breakdowns he'd be there for you. Until the wedding you'd stay in the hospital wing so the doctors could also be on the lookouts for any moments where the good days began to get so difficult.
Finnick didn't care about the bad days though because for every one step back you seemed to take three steps forward in your progress. He would keep taking it all for you even though the continuing work for the rebellion would threaten that stability. All the struggles had to be worth it in the end, as long as you were both again able to just be in the warm sands of home in the arms of one another. Where the wind and water had always intended you to be, even if it was volatile enough to sweep you away.
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thank you all for reading this long awaited chapter! I'm not great at fluff so it took me so much longer to navigate ideas that weren't heartbreaking but trust we have a lot to come 💋 as always feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all very very appreciated and my ask box is open, I adore hearing all your thoughts and ideas so so much. requests are open even if I'm like a snail with them. love y'all sm and thanks again 💋
taglist: @aegonswife @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @libertyybellls @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d @wowzabowza69 @nomorespahgetti @problematicpastries @abaker74 @nj01 @whens-naptime @sarcasticbooknerd12 @cakes-hq @honethatty12 @s1lngwns @alliex-o @mushy-mushroom04 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @korra-rail-me @scoliobean @quack-quack-snacks
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aaronsinferno · 4 months
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'buck and tommy only had a one episode build up' no if they had a one episode build up that would be fine, tk and carlos were fucking within like an hour of meeting and i have no issue with that because they have an actually palpable instant attraction and connection rather than being thrown together randomly for shock value, their relationship actually developed really well after that, they're both very well developed characters, neither of them is significantly more invested in the relationship and their makeout scenes don't look like somebody frenching their dad lmao.
Regardless, the attraction between the two is real. They’re in a non speculative and canonically proven romantic relationship that’s been said to be healthy and will come off as a romcom. Just wanted to get that out of the way before I got into anything.
Evan and Tommy weren’t a slow burn. They didn’t see each other across a room and go “I’m gonna take you home later” or anything similar to that. It was just one guy unaware of his attraction towards another until the other guy in question made the first move. (Which was bold asf btw)
There’s no one way to jumpstart a relationship. Sometimes it’s taking a leap of faith and acknowledging your feelings in whatever way you can.
The kiss was always going to be shocking hence the uproar of homophobic outrage afterwards. If Evan, for whatever reason, kissed who you wanted him to kiss then I’m positively sure you’d still be pretty surprised that the kiss actually happened. A scenario that will live and die on the internet btw.
And you’re right to imply that Tommy isn’t a fully developed character. There’s still so much we don’t know about him. I’m assuming that if the writers want him around more, then not only will they build onto his character and background, but they’ll also build on his and Evan’s relationship.
I’m assuming the dad thing is you making fun of Lou’s age. I don’t have a problem with it. Unfortunately for you, though, neither does Evan. We’ve seen papa Buckley before, and I hate to say it, but Tommy doesn’t give that at all.
And I love Tk and Carlos, but using characters who have been sure and open about their sexuality since before their series began as a “gotcha” moment for Evan and Tommy is a bit odd. They know what they want and have experience identifying partners and forming relationships. Evan just came to realize that he’s bisexual. It’s new to him so it’s understandable if he’s not making moves like TK.
It’s a show. Let things fall into place. The story is still being told. Exhale.
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Dick Grayson & Tim Drake: Reading Guide
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Once upon a time, two kids met at a circus... and the rest is history.
table of contents:
who are these losers?
what's fun about them?
why a reading guide?
how does the reading guide work? (tl;dr: there are quick recs, a selected chronological list, and a complete chronological list)
where is the spreadsheet? (x)
who are they?
Dick Grayson and Tim Drake: the first Robin and the third Robin.
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Also known as the circus boy and the earnest computer geek, the hotshot and the pretender, the slighted prince and the new apprentice, the acolyte and the hanger-on, Nightwing and Robin, Batman and Robin, Batman and Red Robin, and Marcia and Cindy (BftC 3, N 110 & 119, B 617, DC 677, Detention Comics 1, R 168, RR 14).
Or as Jason calls them, "You idiots" (TT 47).
More seriously, Dick Grayson is one of the most enduring comic characters ever - he's been around since Detective Comics 38 in 1940! He's Batman's first ward, first partner, and eldest son. When Dick's parents are murdered, Bruce identifies with him, comforts him, and takes him into his home, where Dick ultimately volunteers to join his crimefighting mission. By candlelight, the Dynamic Duo swear an oath: That we two will fight together against crime and corruption and never swerve from the path of righteousness!
Tim Drake was created in Batman 436 and formally introduced in Lonely Place of Dying. He's a lonely kid who imprints on Dick when they meet as children, and Dick hugs him and promises to do a quadruple somersault for him; he's horrified and worried about Dick in the aftermath of the Graysons' murder, which he witnesses. He watches Batman comfort Dick, deduces Robin's secret identity, and becomes a secret devotee of the Dynamic Duo. Though he admires them both, it's ultimately Dick who he idolizes and tries to emulate when Bruce is spiraling: Batman needs a Robin. No matter what he thinks he wants.
Their slow-burn strangers-to-friends-to-brothers-to-antagonists-to-brothers-again arc develops from 1989 to 2011, and it's one of the standout examples of the DC Post-Crisis era's commitment to gradual character development and careful continuity.
what's fun about them?
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SO MUCH!!! But one of my favorite things is their friendship has RANGE!! They go from sweet kids to tense strangers to loyal friends to brothers over the course of real-life years and tons of comics. They fight, they tease each other, they get protective, they worry, they chase each other down, they walk away... there's just so much story here.
They meet at the circus as children, when both their parents are still alive. They meet again, years later, when Bruce is reeling from Jason's death and they team up to stop him from hurting anyone. In the early days, they're brothers-in-arms and never quite family - instead, Dick is Bruce's loyal-but-estranged eldest son, and Tim is Bruce's new loyal-but-wary apprentice, with his own family and his own semi-estranged dad. The slow process of evolving toward found-family is a delight to watch.
They work together as Nightwing and Robin over four years of in-universe time and for over twenty years of real-time, gradually forging a fierce bond of friendship and, ultimately, brotherhood.
Then Bruce dies, and they have some huge fights.
But even when they're estranged, even when they're not speaking... they never stop loving and trying to protect each other. No matter what.
why a reading guide?
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Quotes from New Titans 60 and Batman 441 (1989), Nightwing 25 (1998), Nightwing 69 (2002), Red Robin 1 (2009), Red Robin 12 (2010), Gates of Gotham 3 and Detective Comics 874 (2011)
I think reading guides are cool!! And somebody asked me about one!
More generally, I think reading guides are always helpful, but especially with Dick & Tim... you know, when I first started out trying to read their comics, I got kinda overwhelmed. Because on the one hand there's SO MUCH CONTENT - they're one of the classic enduring friendships in all of post-Crisis! their relationship is a HUGE BIG DEAL! they're constantly calling each other and hanging out and supporting each other and arguing!
But at the same time, all of that content is scattered across lots of different books, in Robin and Nightwing and Detective Comics and Batman and New Titans and Titans and Young Justice and Teen Titans and Shadow of the Bat and Gotham Knights and Birds of Prey and Showcase and DC Holiday Specials and so on and so forth. There's not One Definitive Place where you can read The Dick-and-Tim Story.
So: a reading guide!
how does the reading guide work?
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Dick and Tim are in over 400 comics together and over 800 comics each separately. That's a whole lot of comics! So I've made a spreadsheet with three different reading guides, depending on how interested you are in these two:
1-5 Quick Recs: If you just want to check out a couple comics, check out these quick recs for "if you like fluff," "if you like angst," etc.
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200 Starter Comics: If you want to do a comprehensive, chronological Dick-and-Tim read without committing to all the comics, this list has some of their major team-ups plus some solo comics so you know what the heck is going on. Most of them have a "sneak peek" you can use to decide if you want to read it.
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Big List: A complete list of all the comics Dick and Tim are in, in chronological order, with links to dc.fandom and to DC Universe Infinite. It has filter views.
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This spreadsheet was a labor of love, obsession, and SO MUCH PROCRASTINATING doing other things. I update it sometimes.
where is the spreadsheet?
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it's here. have fun <3
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ratherembarrassing · 4 months
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alright pals, it's time for some rhaenicent fic recs, as asked for by literally 10s of you. here are nearly 500k words of things that have made me kick my heels with joy.
(for the full list of things i've liked enough to think someday i might like to find it again, see here.)
you don't know what love is (if you don't put up a fight) by tansymeadows. 144k, E. technically not finished, but the first 14 chapters feel like a complete story. rhaenyra returns just in time for viserys' death, alicent doesn't back aegon and instead rhaenyra is crowned queen. visenya lives, daemon takes his leave, and rhaenyra courts the dowager queen through the process of succession. the slowest slow burn to ever burn. there is so much plot, a whole-ass war, and they're so ridiculously in love. this fic is why it took me so long to finish compiling this list, because i sat and reread every single delicious word, because it circles back and forth all over their history in a way that just askjdhas. i've read this twice now and even just flipping through it to write this up is trying to suck me back in.
i dwell in possibility by ladybundle / @ladybundle. 29k (2 part series). viserys doesn't die and rhaenyra returns to king's landing. visenya lives, aegon dies, and alicent in this is the most tortured lesbian while they mend their relationship. i really dig the whole vibe of the writing in this, which feels very in character, if that makes sense for the vibe of a fic rather than just a character. the second fic is the origin of the 'alicent hightower's belated sexual awakening' tag i started using, which is a category of fics that i enjoy very, very much.
you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream by rosiep8801/ @rosehathaways-sidepiece. 12k, M. another one where viserys doesn't die and rhaenyra returns to king's landing, this time one in which they wholeheartedly and rabidly throw themselves into sorting their shit out, as they share a bed over and over each night as they battle through their issues. this one has my favourite iteration of the traditional alicent hightower learns of the female orgasm scene.
cleopatra by dontaskmedude. 52k, E. this one appears on every rec list i've ever seen, and rightfully so. kicks off with the weirwood scene in 104, and runs from there, a lovely alternate reality where alicent/rhaenyra/laenor/joffrey live the next 20-odd years in relative peace. this one smashes me in the feelings.
where fire and ice meet by wariangle. 41k, 4 part series, E. pre-series through to rhaenyra's ascension, everything's the same except she refuses to marry or have children. it's okay though, because she has a plan. i am deeply obsessed with "and they were two queens through machinations" fic. alicent in this is my actual fave, she's so spiky; the final fic in the series, although actually deeply sad, has a premise that makes me howl with laughter because obviously alicent hightower, lesbian with a wife for 20 years, would also be a massive homophobe.
not on the last day by revans_mask. 48k, E. alicent goes with otto to meet with rhaenyra and offer terms, and while she's there she slips rhaenyra a message. there are a couple of beats in this that are so romantic i clutched at my chest.
keep the promise in your mouth by iwantthemtostay / @iwantthemtostay. 87k, E. technically not finished, but only missing an epilogue. the closest thing to AU on this list; rhaenyra is barren, alicent has four daughters, and when viserys dies while rhaenyra is away from westeros, daemon takes the crown. when she returns, he forces alicent and rhaenyra to marry each other for reasons. as the summary says, they make the best of it. this fic makes me insane, it's so dreamy.
ride the dragon (do it quickly) by molter / @molter-writes. 36k, unrated. in the free real estate between 106 and 107, viserys sends rhaenyra and alicent to do some politicking in the north. alicent cannot stand the cold, so what is rhaenyra to do but share her bed to keep her warm. alicent is so angry about it.
thine is the queendom by liadrell / @lesbianalicent. 11k, M. the only non-ship fic on this list. an alicent character piece set in the free real estate between 105 and 106, and deal with the absolutely batshit fact that alicent was pregnant with daeron at the same time rhaenyra was pregnant with jace in a way that made me sad as fuck tbqh.
daughters of the dragon by DMCMercy. 14k, M. the kiddos patch things up with alicent's first pregnancy, kicking off what is not at all secretly one of my favourite categories of early canon divergence: alicent's other husband rhaenyra.
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fategoflatass · 8 months
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I used to be so against the slow burn trope. Not because I thought it was shit; it's just, I usually don't have the patience to wait whatever-amount-superior-to-three damn chapters for my dear ship to finally be able to look at each other without blushing and/or hold hands. Thus why you often times see me reading oneshots or fics with the "Established Relationship" tag on them.
So you can imagine just how surprised—or maybe not, maybe I just didn't think enough about it—I was when I realized my newest fixation's main pairing is—canonically—the embodiment of slow burn. Because holy shit they're taking their time.
Nothing against how Kusuriya develops its love story—quite the opposite, actually. The relationship between Jinshi and Maomao, two characters that are written as beautifully as their romance, is a rather realistic approach as to how the same or a similar dynamic would developed in real life. In such a complicated situation, with such complex feelings about emotions—both external and their own—and attachment, makes sense that it takes so long for the relationship to finally sail.
The problem is, I didn't know I was signing with the Devil the moment I decided to pick up the light novel. Ten volumes and nothing has happened. Nothing.
And you can say that technically things have happened, because they have. I mean, Jinshi is just so desperate for Maomao to give him the time of day, you know what I mean? And even that isn't enough anymore and thus he has committed some of the craziest shit I've seen in any romance. Which okay, I don't usually read these type of romances but still.
What I mean by "nothing" is just, their relationship hasn't changed status. I could also say that it seems to go nowhere, but that'd be lying. Since, you know, it has changed quite a lot—just not in the way my impatient ass wanted it to. Because he can be as honest with his feelings as he pleases, and those around them might be heavely conscious of the tension and thus constantly tease those lovebirds (as they should), but babygirl's not helping, you know?
And I get it, Maomao's not the best at expressing and understanding herself, and she's also way too busy worrying about going as unnoticed as possible (she should give up on that one already, tbh) while keeping her head where it should be. But like, I can't help feeling frustrated over it like ‼‼
GIRL, FUCK THE RULES. TAKE THAT PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN AND RUNAWAY SOMEWHERE NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO IDENTIFY YOU. YOU THEN CARRY THAT BITCH BRIDESTYLE TO THE CLOSEST CHURCH AND MAKE HIM YOUR WIFE. PROCEED TO FROG AROUND, EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR UTERUS AS MUCH AS YOU'D LIKE, AND THEN TEACH THE PRODUCTS OF YOUR PRACTICES AS YOUR OWN GUINEA PIG THE WAYS OF HERBAL MEDICINE. AS EASY AS THAT.
But she won't. She'll take her sweet ass time being in denial about both Jinshi's and her own feelings, then maybe she'll proceed to analize herself and find out that maybe, just maybe, that affection that she'd been feeling for that loser became something else. Did said affection also become something more complicated? Absolutely. Does she know how to deal with it? Hell no, but fuck it. If I learned something from school is that you always leave the hardest parts for later.
Now you see why I was so against reading slow burn?
And you wanna know the worst part? I loved it—I loved every second of it, every word, every page. Every scene that seemed to help the relationship advance, only for Maomao to say nope and leave like she owns the place, which at this point she fucking might.
It feels like I, as the reader, am in the middle of a heatwave and some sadistic bastard won't stop teasing me with ice cream—they put it in front of my face, close enough that I can smell the cold. Then take a spoon and eat little by little while staring directly to my eyes. At times they seem to show mercy and feed me a spoon, only for it to be a rather small quantity of serving—serving that tastes so damn good at first, only for it to have such a bitter aftertaste. But if I gotta have something in common with Jinshi is that I'll never be able to beat the masochist allegations, so I'll wait patiently for the next spoon and its corresponding and seemingly enless teasing from that faceless being.
So yeah, I'm still against it, only that now I understand the appeal—even if I have yet to find out about the whereabouts of my sanity while still mananing with the little I've left.
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