#come plot with my bb

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

[bonefall]

Hey, what makes a character a 'plot device but not a character'? And how do you not do that? I'm trying to do it on purpose but also I need to still make them interesting because it's on purpose, yknow?

A good skill to pick up is to learn to criticise criticism itself. A "plot device" is simply a thing that moves the plot along, it's a neutral literary analysis term! Usually, when people are angry that "a character has been used as a plot device," it doesn't mean they hate plot devices. It means they're gesturing at something deeper.

Runningwind and Bumble are equally plot devices in their deaths. They are both killed by the antagonist to escalate political tension. Runningwind is rarely "accused" of just being a plot device, and yet, we're talking about Bumble for the same thing.

So, why?

Well, Runningwind is just a background character, but in life, he was a part of the community. He was characterized as impatient but responsible. Yet, he wasn't SO important that he died with a bunch of unresolved plot threads.

He is mostly an extension of the entity of ThunderClan. His killing by Tigerstar, and the fear and paranoia that settles on the group after this, feel like a progression of the story insteas of something forced.

Bumble, on the other hand...

Is hated immediately by Gray Wing, when she's established as Turtle Tail's friend. Bumble's abuse at Tom the Wifebeater's hands invites even MORE investment. The rejection is shocking and upsetting. There's a story there about our main characters being imperfect; jealous, bigoted, and judgemental.

But, she is simply killed off. Everything they set up for this character is gone with little personalized fanfare. It's not a tragedy with a lesson about cruelty, or something anyone regrets.

It's just... plot. Gray Wing whinging that no one will like his shitty brother now that his body count is 2.

More than that, in the discussion of women in particular, "Fridging" was coined to give a name to the way women characters often don't get their stories told at all. There is a CULTURAL trend of female characters facing disproportionate violence, for the sake of advancing male plots.

Bumble has a lot going for her. Petal had a lot going for her. Turtle Tail had a lot going for her. Bright Stream had a lot going for her. When they died, they took their potential with them.

It's not always wrong to kill off a character of high potential, mind you. In Gurren Lagann, Kamina's death is sudden and shocking, leaving a massive hole in the hearts of the cast that never heals. Grappling with that loss, but also letting his memory fuel them, is a major theme of that story.

All that to say... there's no formula for avoiding it. You've gotta identify what the deeper issue is, in your specific narrative.

I can't say for certain what that will look like for your story, but here's some things I keep in mind;

When you make characters who exist to die, make sure they're people before you axe them.

Ask yourself; what about them does the cast miss?

If they just miss them because they were (pre-existing relationship), go back to the drawing board.

Fluttering Bird as an example. Who was she? Dead sister. Why do they miss her? Dead sister. No traits until after her death.

Runningwind was short-tempered and helpful. Kamina was a valuable leader who made people believe in a brighter future. Swiftpaw was fiesty and desperate to prove himself. The better characterized, the more profound the loss usually is.

If this is a female character who is dying just to serve the plot, be aware of cultural bias and tropes. How is the gender ratio looking in your cast? Is this happening disproportionately with your girls?

Note how Quiet Rain's litter had both a boy and a girl, but the girl was chosen to be "weaker" and wither away.

And how most of the time in DOTC, whenever a man had to be upset, a girl would get killed for it.

If you ever feel like the character on the chopping block is NOT a full character, ask yourself why it needs to be a character at all. You don't need to spend narrative time building out someone when a literal object of high value might suffice.

"My sister died when I swore to protect her and I can't face my family" = Old. Tired. Ive seen this.

"I lost my heirloom sword when I swore to protect it and I can't face my family." = Fascinating. Why was the sword so valuable? Will they really not take you back? How did you lose it?

When you do kill off "high value" characters, try to make sure you're not leaving too many plot threads hanging. Or at least make a point of how they will never get closure.

[xohalseyx]

I can't believe that a week from today, my baby boy will be three years old. Where the hell does the time go? Because it feels like just yesterday he was still growing in my belly and now suddenly he's three?! Anyway, Ender is going through a bit of a shark phase—not like the cute Baby Shark kind of shark phase. I'm talking more like a Jaws kind of shark phase. I take full responsibility since, he wandered into my bedroom when I was watching the movie and since then his obsession has begun. So if anyone wants to come to a Jaws party for a three year old next weekend, put your RSVP in now. @exposedfmstart

[pass3ra]

cressida's storyline was genuinely shameful tbhhh it's like they started rewriting it in the first half of the season then completely forgot about the changes they'd made to make it fit the book plot and it just ends up making everyone else look bad😐 every character in the second half got a "penelope did nothing wrong" lobotomy so we ended up with eloise completely ignoring cressida being sold off to an horrible man (when she made every effort to support her in the first half of the season) and for some reason resenting her for pretending to be lady whistledown? Then they somehow frame her ignoring colin's offensively bad pleas as it being her turning away from redemption when all she's trying to do is escape being trapped in the country with her likely abusive aunt... and it ends with her meeting her horrible fate and it still being framed as tragic only to immediately juxtapose it with the bridgerton family winning the idgaf war while gleefully seeing off francesca and her future dead husband. The bridgertons were the villains of the season frfr

[luckyyyduckyyy]

Late night epiphanies I love you

Replacing original plot points with banger ideas that fix everything my beloved

[tsuchinokoroyale]

I’d like to reward your KH knowledge with an all-out, godless salad-tossing.

I’d also just like to reward you in general for being a funny, nerdy, and sexy little caked-up phone man, but it is what it is. 😊

Yippee!!!! I knew doing multiple replays of tetsuya nomura’s wild ride would get my ass ate one day 🥳

Just don’t ask me about the phone games.

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I clearly need to talk about it more, because it's one of my favorite game franchises of all time

[constantvariations]

It's kinda funny to me that so many people are up in arms about Neo's actions in C8 when it's easy for me to dismiss simply because that ain't Neo, yknow?

Like, Neo has never pussyfoot around murder. If she wants you dead, you gonna get dead. From Neo about to stab Yang while the latter is unconscious to Neo and Ruby falling through the void while Neo uses the visuals of Ruby's loved ones to try and weaken her enough for Neo to strangle her to death, Neo has always been fairly direct in her methods

So, it's difficult to reconcile that version of Neo with the one who would passively let her target take themselves out

Not to mention the semblance shift. Neo's semblance, Overactive Imagination, is illusions manifested via semblance glass. They shatter upon contact. Because they're illusions

That's the biggest deal breaker for me. Crwby changed her semblance so much she might as well be a whole ass other person. Fuck, it could've been an Afteran. It's not like Neo was needed here, especially with how easily she was discarded

Instead of illusions, Neo's new abilities seem to be... animorphing people/creatures she may or may not have met via semblance clones and allowing them sentience

Mcfucking what???

The point of illusions is they're not physical. It's not an actual transformation, but rather the aesthetic of one. This could have worked if they kept the semblance evolution to multiple illusions at once OR allowing physical transformation, either of which would have been super cool to see, but they pushed too far. There's too many upgrades that deviate so much from the original ability that it's a whole ass new power

So, immediately on her introduction, the og Jabber is killed(?) and in its place is... multiple Neo-Jabbers. Who can eat other creatures alive. And apparently desire to do so

McFUCJING WHAT

This implies that all her semblance clones of others have their own sentience. Which would never make sense when she never interacted with anyone in that torture scene besides Roman. Seriously why the fuck is Lionheart here? Give us nothing, king

Now, given that we are shown the stream of souls, what could have happened is the illusions were possessed by folks who needed to get a last word in, but that's not. what. happened.

Instead, we have the writers disregarding a character's inability to speak so they can brutalize a teenager in the stupidest way possible, and throwing away all logic of a fairly easy to understand power because it suits their plot needs

Riveting

[airenyah]

today i ended up telling my tandem partner half of the plot of bad buddy oops

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

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[robotsafari]

ok so far i've played 2 hours of 0.2 and wow. im stunned. a modern kingdom hearts game is actually making me feel so much joy and wonder and fear and AUGH THE EMOTIONS AND THE GAMEEE ITS LIKE A VIDEO GAME YOU CAN PLAY AND HAVE A GRAND OL TIME ITS KINGDOM HEARTS BABYYY !!!!!! WOAAAHHH WOOOWW

[emoisthenewemu]

“Ella Baila Sola” ~ Hanta Sero x F! Reader

Hispanic! Hanta Sero x Hispanic! Reader

This idea came to me suddenly and I just had to write it I love him sm <3 . Also i tried to leave it open to interpretation on exactly what kind of Hispanic Sero is but just know everyone here is Mexican leaning!

Summary: Your so-called “date” invited you to a baile only to tell you he doesn’t like to dance. Sero sees you dancing all by yourself and wants to fix that.

Cw: AU! w no powers, porn w plot!, p in v, College AU! Hanta, SMUTT, dirty talk, drinking, weed smoking, spanish-speaking, reader is apprehensive about leaving with Sero at first but ultimately decides to go with him, cheating-kind of not really

CHARACTERS ARE 21+ MDNI

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You sulk, kicking up dirt with your botas as you glare at the stupid man that brought you here. He was cute, tall, had a decent job and a nice truck. He was one of your loyal story likers so you figured there would be no harm in saying yes when he invited you out on a date. To a baile of all places! You were impressed and seriously excited, having looked forward to this all week. You worked extra hard trying to find a cute outfit, even getting a chance to wear the new pink BB belt you’ve been dying to bust out ever since you bought it. Your hair was meticulously styled, makeup done all nice and sparkly and you wore your most expensive perfume (you also wore your shortest skirt). Needless to say, you looked forward to going out and dancing the night away with a handsome guy who’s had his eye on you for a while.

“Don’t look at me like that bruh! You can dance with one of my friends or something” Your date shrugs, popping open a bottle of beer as he sits on the tailgate of his truck. Your eyes dart over to his friends that you were previously introduced to, unable to hide the grimace on your face as they eye you up and down.

“No thanks” You grumble, crossing your arms as you look out onto the rancho, watching as the crowd of people dance around. The puff of dirt being kicked up in the air is just a reminder that you are not having a good time while everyone else is. “So what the fuck do you even do at a baile when you don’t dance?! Just sit there and drink and smoke?”

“Pretty much” He nods, sparking up a blunt and you whine.

You snatch it from his hands, mumbling something about them being losers and take a few puffs. You’re going to need something to entertain you if you really are going to be dancing with a bunch of people you didn’t know. But you are determined to have fun and you look cute, if he doesn’t want to dance with you then someone surely will. So you stomp away towards the crowd with a determined look on your face.

Sero is sat at one of the chairs on the opposite side of the yard. His eyes are stuck on you-not that you’ve noticed with all the huffing and puffing. He is visiting home from college and due to it only being a two-hour drive his friends decided to tag along too. It’s funny really, he even leant Kaminari a pair of his boots and he says he looks like a real Takuache. He doesn’t expect any of them to dance besides Ashido of course. That was the whole reason she tagged along in the first place. A few of his cousins have joined, one of them is determined to teach Mina how to perfect the art of Huapango.

“How do you not fall in love when you’re that close?” The pink haired girl observed the way the couples in front of them dance. Lord knows if a mysterious sexy man wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her around, practically grinding on her the way some of these people are-she’d fall for him on the spot.

“That’s what makes it fun” Sero smiles, he had every intent of going out to meet girls tonight. Work his charm and get close to a few of them before never speaking again. But he watches you-all by yourself and yet you don’t seem to care. A smile on your face as your hips and feet move in sync with the music, that tiny top and skirt of yours comes dangerously close to exposing you. But it never does.

As time passes he finds that he cannot stop looking at you. He doesn’t even mean to. In fact, he tried to make a point of ignoring it once Kaminari had mentioned you seemed to have pulled up with some guy.

Some guy that let you dance all by yourself. What a shame, he thinks. He’d never do that to a girl as beautiful as you.

“Stop being a bitch and go ask her to dance!” Hanta’s cousin pushed him in the shoulder, snapping him out of the trance that was you. Every time he looked your way he needed a good five minutes before he could look at anything else.

“Oooh! Ask if she wants a shot!” Mina squeals, shoving the bottle into her classmate’s chest. And he cannot even protest because the shouts of his friends and family are loud enough that he can’t get a word in.

For some reason, there is a pit in his stomach. His legs feel like jelly and he takes in a shaky breath before walking forward. He shakes his limbs loose a bit, reminding himself he is not a bitch and has done this plenty of times before. But for some reason you make him nervous, you are just so pretty and eye catching to him. The jewels of your belt sparkle and the matching pink top make you easy to spot out. The man clears his throat, finally within arms length of you.

You take notice of him, seeing as you were no longer dancing, in the process of walking back to your date to let him know you’ll just have one of your friends pick you up. He is also blocking your path, you can see the truck off in the distance before his large body blocks your view. You look up, he’s tall and handsome. He has that Peso Pluma haircut that you are embarrassingly in to, stubble pricking at his chin and jaw area, with big dark eyes. His button up is neatly tucked in to his jeans, a nice belt with a large buckle that you don’t doubt was expensive. His botas look nice and clean but upon further inspection you can tell he’s put them to use. He has a chain sticking out beneath the unbuttoned part of his shirt, a bit of chest hair poking out. He smiles kindly, for some reason you don’t feel intimidated by the large man standing in front of you. “¿Quieres?” He offers the bottle out towards you.

“Buchanas?” You sound obviously disappointed and he thinks the way you scrunch your nose in disgust is so adorable.

He laughs at your unimpressed expression. “¿No te gustas?”

“Mmm not really” You shake your head but the more you look at him, the more you want to take a shot of this sexy stranger’s bottle. He seems to be with a group, you spot a few girls there too so the thought that he might be a creep doesn’t really come up. “¿Tienes tequila?”

He laughs again, shaking his head no. “That’s crazyyy. How come all the pretty girls are into tequila? Shit tastes like rubbing alcohol”

“Not even!” You defend yourself. “If you stick to it all night you won’t get sick!”

“Mm” He nods, obviously not taking your words into consideration. The way he stares at you is starting to make you nervous, his ability to maintain eye contact is impressive. You want to tear away from his pretty eyes but find it hard to. A devious smirk makes its way onto his face. “So no shot?” You look up at him teasingly, crossing one of your feet behind the other as your neck begins to hurt from looking up at him for so long. And you giggle before trying to grab it from his hands but he won’t let you. “Nah, let me pour it for you” You raise an eyebrow, warning him to not pour too much but he pinky promises that he won’t.

“Eugh!” You groan, wiping your mouth as your breath suddenly feels hot. The bitter taste enveloping your tastebuds as you try to breathe it out.

“Esooo” He teases, patting you on the back almost proudly. “So you wanna dance?”

You’re about to say yes when you remember your date. The one who brought you here in the first place. Shit. He probably watched that whole thing happen. Hanta notices the hesitant look on your face, turning around to see whatever the hell you were looking at. You both look at your date-Antonio yeah that’s his name, you almost forgot. He looks mad and his friends seem to be laughing, yet they don’t move from their spot. The man at the center of them is holding his beer close to his chest as he very obviously stares the two of you down. “Your boyfriend really lets you dance by yourself?”

“He’s not my boyfriend” You answer but remain frozen in place.

“So let’s go dance” He gestures his head towards the sea of dancing bodies and you want to, you really do. But you stay looking at stupid Antonio whom you were supposed to be spending time with. Hanta notices your hesitancy, eyes darting back to your date. “Okay pues, let’s go ask him”

And you are about to reject the idea but Sero has already taken off walking, taking rather large steps to avoid you catching up and trying to stop him. As embarrassed and anxious as you are, it’s extremely attractive how determined this man is to dance with you. He better be good with all of this drama he’s about to cause. “¡Oye muchacho!” He calls out and once you hear his voice you pick up the pace. Your eyes widen as you come to a halt, somewhat hiding behind him as you feel yourself shrink beneath the glares of the men in front of you. “¿Puedo bailar con su chica?”

“Huh?” The dumb look on his face is embarrassing, you cringe as Hanta looks at you with an unimpressed expression. As if to ask if this is really the guy you showed up with? It had to be a mistake.

You roll your eyes, you thought he spoke at least a little bit of Spanish. “He asked if I can dance with him” You translate.

Antonio grows silent, eyes darting between the two of you before finally shrugging nonchalantly. Like he doesn’t even care. “Do whatever you want” He tries to laughs it off before taking a sip of his beer. “Let him take your ass home too”

You roll your eyes but Sero only nods. “Bet” The men stare each other down a bit while you awkwardly watch, still slightly cowering behind your knight in shining denim. He turns around and you follow, the man slowing down a bit to make sure you now walk ahead of him-he hates the way those guys are staring at your ass. “M’sorry hermosa I never even asked your name. Promise I’m usually nicer than that”

You laugh it off, assuring that it’s okay because you never even introduced yourself either. “Y/N”

He grabs your hand, kissing the back of it. “I’m Hanta” He placed the bottle down on his now empty seat. “Let’s go dance Y/N”

It was definitely worth it. You danced for hours. Antonio who? You only know Hanta who dances better than any one you’d been with before. After a certain point it’s hard to even remember that you did not show up with him, it feels like you’ve met him before. You trust him to lead, the way he spins you around and moves his hips is intoxicating. The two of you are completely in-sync, not a single mistep as the loud noises of drums and trumpets blare in your ears. You even let him pick you up a bit, swinging you over his leg just to bring you right back. You can tell he’s been dancing ever since he was a kid. At first the two of you kept a cute distance, bodies still pressed together but a slight gap at your chests. A timid hand on his shoulder as he whispered silly things in your ear. Anything to make you laugh which he has now discovered is a top ten sound of all time. His hand was right at the middle of your back but it seemed that every time you made your way around the dance floor, every time you passed your date who still had yet to leave, his hand would inch a bit lower. And the more you talked, as he told you he was a college student just visiting town for the weekend to see family, you began to grow more comfortable with him. How could you not? Bodied pressed together so close, an unexplainable heat building between the two of you. You begin to get closer to one another, chests now touching as his hand is now settled at the waistband of your skirt, guiding your hips to sway with his. His thumb has somehow tucked itself beneath the fabric. He’s so hot it’s stupid, you think and now that you are inches apart you can tell he smells incredibly good too. Not only that but his body is firm, a bit rough even as it is clear he is very built beneath the layers of clothing. The knee in between your legs also seems to inch up a bit, perfectly settled between your tiny denim skirt. Pretty soon your arm has found its way wrapped around his neck and the more you talk you begin to simply rest your forehead’s together. You can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose, the way your lips are so close together that you can feel his breath mixing with yours.

“Think your guys getting mad” He teases, pulling his head away a bit to gesture towards the group you had arrived with.

“Good he’s a fuckin’ weirdo” You giggle. “He’s just mad you’re so much hotter than him”

Sero laughs, screaming on the inside because he is so in. He made it, the approving looks on his friends faces also feed his ego, a sly grin after an enthusiastic thunbs-up from Denki. And Mina who mouths about how hot you are. “Nah I think he’s just mad I stole his pretty girl away” His hand is rubbing the exposed skin of your back now, slowing down a bit as the tempo does the same. “Let’s make him even more mad, yeah?” He whispers that part in your ear, his deep voice goes straight to your core.

You nod shyly, unaware of what his idea of making Antonio jealous is. “Can I?” He asks again and you nod yes even though you aren’t sure what he’s asking. You squeal in delight when his hand that has remained so respectful until now reaches beneath your skirt to give your ass a squeeze, he all but groans at the feeling of plush skin all exposed thanks to the tiny thong you’re wearing. His hand goes back up, choosing to rest itself in your back pocket instead before he spins you around so that you are perfectly aligned with your old date’s line of sight. He winks and gives you another squeeze through the fabric, hoping the smug look on his face is detectable from all the way over here. It seems that it is because that just happens to be Antonio’s last straw as he visibly stands up, chugging the rest of his beer before him and his friends leave the party for good. The rev of his engine is unbearably loud and almost as obnoxious as the cloud of dust his tires picked up.

You don’t care, only laughing as you ask him if they actually up and left. “Sure did, I told you he was jealous princesa. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home safe”

“Mm I dunno” You mumble, God you want to go home with him so bad. But you’ve spent your whole life not trusting any man-even if he is extremely hot. He’s leading you away from the dancing, a cautious hand on the small of your back as he leads you through the crowd. “I can just have my friend pick me up. He doesn’t live far”

“He?!” Hanta stops in place and you bump into him on accident, trying to get your footing right but he catches you easily. “You’re breaking my heart” He brings a hand to his chest, pouting down at you as he wipes away an imaginary tear.

You cannot stop the laughter from leaving your mouth, slapping him on the chest lightly. “It’s not like that! We grew up together! And he would not like me going home with a strange man I’ve never met before”

“Sounds like a good guy” His response surprises you, you were expecting a bit more pushback. “I get it, if you’re not comfortable letting me take you home then I understand” You smile thankfully and he squeezes your hand in reassurance before continuing to lead you through the crowd. “Just let me know mamas”

He introduces you to his friends-some classmates from school who seem absolutely thrilled to meet you. The guy mentions how he’s never seen his friend pull such a babe before and earns a smack upside the head. The girl immediately comments on your belt, squealing about how much she loves the bling. His cousins are just as friendly as he is, his girl cousin even asks if you have a ride home or if you wanted one of them to take you. And you talk with them for a while, starting to feel very welcomed by the group and you even smoke another blunt with them. You dance a bit with the girls too, you even dance one song with a guy but you make sure to maintain a respectful distance between the two of you. You were going to say no at first but Mina assured that her friend wouldn’t mind, besides she thinks it’d be funny to see him jealous. And he is, as soon as the song is over he goes to scoop you away and bring you back to the chairs, forcing you to sit on his lap.

“You’re not mad are you?” You ask, noticing the way he is now holding onto you like he’s afraid you might run away.

“Nah you came to a baile to dance right?” He laughs, shifting you in his lap so he can get a better look at you. He tucks away a piece of hair behind your ear, going back to that same intense eye contact that made your stomach queasy earlier. “And I dance way better than that cabrón, don’t I?”

His hand squeezes your thigh and you smile, running your acrylics down his jawline. The man eases into your touch, groaning softly at how good it feels. “Yeah you do”

There is so much need shared between the look in your eyes. He does not fail to notice the way your eyes seem to constantly dart down to his pink lips. His hand continues to play with your hair, lightly running through the strands. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as his hand rests on your thigh. “So pretty” He compliments as his eyes take in your entire figure, scanning you up and down. “Mm, you look so cute. Like a pretty little doll” He plays with the end of your shirt before bringing his hand down the side of your skirt, resting once it meets the exposed area of your thigh. You lean into him, enjoying the way he makes you feel so confident and appreciated. “Dame un besito” He’s grabbing your chin and the way you go for it is almost automatic.

You cannot think of anything but him, not an inch of space between the two of you as your lips begin to move in sync. His kiss is firm, needy and you whine when he licks your lip in an attempt to get more of you. You open your mouth, allowing his tongue to press against yours. His grip on your chin remains strong, moving your head along with the way his tongue moves. He has no shame of groaning into the kiss, fighting the urge to pull away and breathe because he craves all of you. He’ll miss you when you have to pull apart. He whines when you are the first to do it, biting your lip in an attempt to halt your escape. The both of of you are left gasping for air-goofy smiles on either of your faces.

There is a moment of silence as the song being played in the background ends, the only noise being the chattering of the party-goers, as the banda readies up for another song. The strobe lights paint your face green, then red, then blue as Hanta looks up at you with the feeling that he’s never wanted anything more in his life than to have you. He’s not even drunk, the effects of the blunt are starting to wear off too. But he just wants you so badly that the cannot think properly. All he knows is that you are just the type of girl he’d go for, it’s a shame you’re such a long distance away or else he’d wife you up for real. You seem like perfect girlfriend material.

“Lets dance a few more songs then get outta here” He suggests, hoping to God you will say yes.

“Mkay” You giggle before going in for another kiss.

He keeps true to his word and you get up a few moments after to go dance some more. This time he is holding you flush against him, his knee almost painfully close to to the spot where you crave him the most, even worse is when the music slows down and he sways your hips over him. You’re practically sitting on his thigh by that point and the friction is enough to make a certain wetness begin to pool at the thin material of your panties. He knows damn well what he is doing. A now constant smile on his face as his hand rests comfortably in your back pocket, squeezing whenever he feels like it. He even leans down to give you soft kisses every now and then, some of them even making their way down to your neck. He is teasing you, uncomfortably so to the point where you want to just beg him to take you to his car and fuck you right there. But you’re not desperate (you swear) and you want him to be the one who breaks. A particularly drawn out part of the song plays, all of the instruments silent as they wait for the cue to start back up again. He is rolling you over his thigh, not even caring to be gentle with the way he grinds you against him and a soft moan leaves your lips.

The banda starts going at it again and he spins you around, back to dancing normally. You whine, bringing a hand up to play with his hair. “Let’s get out of here Hanta” You whisper into his ear. And you definitely do not have to tell him twice because he immediately drags you over to the table where his friends and family are at. He announces that he will be taking you home, double checking that Ashido and Kaminari will be all good going back with his cousins. And they all bid you goodbye with big, knowing smiles on their faces.

He’s leading you out of the party, a cautious hand around your waist to make sure you don’t slip on the rocky terrain. By the time you reach the truck your boy best friend is calling, having seen the text that some dude is going to take you home. “Hello?” Hanta watches you curiously, the way you pout and groan as it is clear whoever is on the other side of the phone is scolding you. You argue a bit back and forth insisting that he’s a good guy and you’ll be okay. “Ugh fine Kiri! You’re so annoying!” You hold out the phone to Hanta, who only furrows his eyebrows. “He wants to talk to you”

And much to your surprise Hanta does not hesitate, grabbing the phone as he opens the passenger door for you. He helps you get up into the truck and shuts the door behind you. He is still on the phone, standing outside as he paces back and forth, you try to roll down the window to hear whatever the hell he might be saying but have no luck. Sero makes his way back to the truck, obviously wrapping up the phone call. “All right man I got you” He laughs and you watch in shock. “No problem bro…take care” And then he hangs up as you continue to stare in disbelief at the fact that he managed to sweet talk the most judgmental friend you have. “What?”

He is eager to find somewhere to take you, sadly he can’t bring you back home because his mom would absolutely kill him for sleeping with a girl under her roof. So he has to settle for a spot he use to go to with his cousin when they would ditch school-a viewpoint hidden from most civilization. And he has to remind himself that you are precious cargo so he shouldn’t be driving so fast, so reckless as his need for you grows stronger with every passing second. His knuckles are almost turning white with the way he grips the steering wheel, his knee bouncing up and down impatiently as he imagines himself tearing you apart. He looks over at you every now and then, just to make sure you’re okay. That you’re comfortable. But every time you catch his eye you smile sweetly at him-squeezing his hand and subconsciously bringing it close to slipping beneath your skirt. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, he hopes so. Finally the truck comes to a stop, he has you right where he wants you.

A part of him wants you grab you in his arms and throw you back there himself, manhandle you the way he craves. But he won’t-he wants to at least try and be a gentleman (even though he’s fully ready to fuck you in the truck). He wishes it could be more romantic. “You wanna go to the back mamas?”

“Mhmm” You mumble, pecking his lips before jumping over the center console, purposefully sticking your ass out as you make your way over. He gets the most perfect peek of your lacy pink thong as your skirt rides up and his jaw drops open, a low groan exiting his mouth.

He’s not sure how long this gentleman act will last. Hanta fucks nasty and all he can think about is turning you into a shaking, slobbery mess. He joins you in the back, pulling up his seat a bit to give the two of you some more room. He manspreads between two seats, smirking over at you as he pats his lap for you to sit on. “C’mere”

You oblige, gasping in delight when you sit on his painfully hard length-the feeling of it poking you through his jeans is unmistakable. He notices your reaction, the way your thighs squeeze together to rub against him. He fixes you so you are straddling his thigh, the same one he was grinding you against when dancing. Your lips finally meet in a heated kiss, your hand pressing flat against his chest to play with the medalla beneath his shirt. And when his tongue enters your mouth you both moan unashamedly, his hands behind to slide down to grope your ass beneath that slutty little skirt he thinks is so cute. The second he brings your hips down to rub your clothed pussy against his thigh you’re done for-you can’t help but pull apart to let out a soft moan. “Mm” He whines-pulling apart to look down at you. You are now rubbing against him by your own volition, throwing your head back when he begins to kiss at the exposed skin at your chest. “You like riding my thigh baby?”

You should be embarrassed with the way you moan at his words. But you can’t help it, he’s been teasing you for so long and you’re so wet. “Come on pretty, I asked you a question” He grabs you by the cheeks to look at him and you try to avoid eye contact but can’t

Suddenly you feel shy, a warmth spreading in your chest. “Y-yeah feels so good baby” You continue to rock your hips but you are growing frustrated as you rub against the somewhat rough fabric. If you go any faster it would hurt, your lips growing sensitive with the friction created by his jeans. “But I want more” You whine, bringing the hand on his chest down to play with the buttons of his shirt.

He assists you in taking it off, unbuckling his belt so he can untuck it from his jeans. You do not bother to hide the way you stare at his toned body, bringing a finger to run up and down his muscles. He kisses you again, loving the way you are practically eating him up with your eyes. He wants you to touch him, his heart flutters when you scratch your nails up his biceps. “M’gonna take care of you pretty girl. Don’t worry”

He takes off your shirt, kissing between the valley of your breasts as your hands fumble down to unzip his jeans. His kisses are hot and open mouthed as he bites and sucks at every bit of skin he can, one of his hands is still lazily gripping your ass, continuing to roll you against him. The other hand is now making its way beneath your bra, squeezing the fleshy mound in a way that is so satisfying to him. And you have found the opportunity to stick your hand down his pants, he groans the second your hand grips him through his briefs. His lip attaches to your nipple, sucking the sensitive skin and flicking his tongue over the bud. You both are whining messes, sloppy movements as your hand finally slips past the fabric of his underwear. He moans into your nipple as you squeeze the tip, finally getting the opportunity to jerk him with your hand. “Fuck” He groans, turning his attention to your other breast which has been poorly neglected. He’s letting out sweet noises of pleasure into your skin, pulling you down harder on his leg as he cannot help the way his hips buckle into your touch-so desperate to have you.

Desperate. Yes, he is so desperate it almost hurts to not be inside you. So he leans forward, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you up as his free hand digs into the center console. You are pressed against the drivers seat and somehow neither of your movements stop. You continue jerking him as his lips remain latched around your nipple, absentmindedly digging his hand through the various little things he keeps in his car. And finally, he finds exactly what he was looking for.

You pull apart, sitting up slightly so he can pull his jeans further down. You watch in awe when his length finally springs out, slapping him in the stomach with a glossy tip covered in precum. He just looks so good, why would you not watch as he tears the condom open with his teeth? Bare chest visibly going up and down with each heavy breath, his abs are starting to glow with the thin layer of sweat coating them. He notices your staring, a cheeky grin making its way onto his face.

“You look so good” Your compliment makes his dick twitch and he doesn’t even say anything. He answers by rolling your skirt up your hips and pulling down your cute little thong.

His hands get comfortable on your hips, holding you back from him so he can get a perfect view of your glossy pussy. He moans aloud at the sight, bringing his thumb into his mouth to collect some spit before bringing it down to your clit, rubbing soft circles. Your hips stutter forward, audible whines leaving your mouth as he simply slides a finger up and down your pussy, gathering as much slick as he can before pulling away-a small string leaving with him. “Got such a pretty pussy” He cannot stop the words leaving his mouth, he hopes you’re into dirty talking because he knows he won’t be able to shut the fuck up the second he gets inside you. Finally his hands pull you closer but he chooses to slide his dick up and down your folds, somehow finding the willpower in himself to tease you even more as his tip brushes against your clit. “You get all wet like this for me princess?”

“Mhmm” Your cries are almost pathetic as you try to push your hips down onto his. Your hand attempts to grab at his cock to just put it in already but he slaps it away. “Pleaseee baby….I just want you so bad”

He laughs, mocking you as he puts in just the tip before stopping and you cry aloud again. “Sorry mama. You just sound so good begging for this dick” You clench around him and lean forward to kiss the side of his face.

“You’re being meann” You complain and that makes him give in, slowly sliding you down his length as it knocks the wind out of you. “Aggh..so big” You cry out as you now feel completely stuffed, your eyes roll to the back of your head when he pulls himself out of you only to snap his hips back in again. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you grow accustomed to his size.

“Fuckk baby” Sero throws his head back, guiding your movements for you as your walls clamp down on him in a way that makes his toes curl. His thrusts are starting to grow a bit harder, you cry out at the way it feels like all of your spots are being perfectly hit. You feel stretched out in a way you’ve never been before, you even find yourself wiping away some drool from the corner of your lip. “Squeezing me so good…m’all up inside you mamas” His words go straight to your head. He encourages you to sit up straight, a hand falling down to your stomach to press down at the slight bulge forming with every thrust. “Feel me right there?”

“Fuck!” You curse, legs twitching at the dirty words leaving his mouth. “Yes Hanta feel you so deep”

You begin to bounce down on his cock, ignoring the way your head sometimes bumps against the roof of his truck when you go up. It’s worth it, the way he isn’t afraid to moan is definitely the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed. Most of the guys you slept with before seem embarrassed to let out any sound that wasn’t a grunt or some heavy breathing. So boring. Not Hanta, he’s full of surprises you’ve come to find out. You’re certain you will remember his slutty noises for the rest of your life. Damn, how are you supposed to hook up with one of the lame guys in your town when you know Sero is walking around with the best dick you’ve had in your life?

This cannot do, you need to make sure this is a night he will never forget. You want him to think of you when he’s at his next college party chatting up some girl.

“You fuck me so good hermoso” You praise, making sure to look him dead in the eye when you spit in your hand before bringing it just below his shaft to give some attention to his balls. Slowing your movements slightly to make it a bit easier-you roll the sacs between your glistening fingers. And you smile when he moans so loud, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he looks down to where the two of you are connected. You take the opportunity to kiss his neck mumbling about how good he is for you. “Hermoso cariño” You coo, licking up the shell of his ear which makes him visibly shiver. “You gonna cum for me?”

For a second Hanta was so lost in the pleasure that he forgot he was supposed to be the one in control here. His mouth wide open as he could no longer think with the way you are just doing everything right. He could cum right there like you were asking but he is fighting the urge, you need to cum first or else he’ll be mad at himself. That thought is enough to snap him out of it. He stops your movements, grabbing both of your wrists as his chest heaves up and down with every breath. “Lean back”

You do as told, resting against the back of the drivers seat as he slides a bit lower. He brings both of your hands behind your back, his own hand big and strong enough that he only needs one. And he leans forward to kiss your stomach before planting his feet firmly against the floor. He goes back to fucking you, using the arms behind your back as leverage to pull you closer, fuck you even deeper as his hips rise completely off the seat. You all but scream at the sudden roughness, his pace is brutal enough that you cannot speak. Only able to whine and cry but not coherent enough to make out a single word. Yes, this is what he wanted-to fuck you stupid until you’re walking funny. The whole truck is bouncing with his every thrust, a very obvious squeaking noise as the man below you pounds into as if you were his own personal fucktoy.

You try to talk but can only let out gasps of air. That mixed with feeble squeals that are involuntarily being let out. If you had any power here you’d break free from his grip, pulling away as you try to halt his movements. It’s too much, you feel so overwhelmed, your whole body fills with tingles. Your head begins to spin, a ringing in your ears as you feel hot to the touch. “Ohh, ohh fuck gonna cum baby”

“Do it” He begs, fucking you even harder, his thrusts are unforgiving and somehow don’t falter in the slightest. If anything it feels like he is growing stronger the longer he fucks you. “Let it out baby, make a mess on me please. Please I want it so bad”

He sounds so whiny and desperate that it pushes you over the edge, vision going white as pleasure washes over you. So satisfying it makes your eyes roll back as the man finally slows down to make sure he catches every single facial expression you make. Your walls flutter around him, causing his dick to twitch inside of you. He’s close but he’s not done with you yet. “Just a little bit more” He swears, noticing the way your body has visibly weakened after such a harsh fucking. He wraps one arm around your waist and another goes to pull you down by the shoulder. Pulling you closer he fucks up into you, slow and exaggerated. “So good I just need more” He whines, digging his face into your chest before he speeds up a bit.

Your hands claw at his back before one of them settles on tugging on his hair, mouth agape as he uses you. You’re so tired, eyes cannot even remain open as you squeal aloud in delight with the way he fucks you into overstimulation. He’s so deep inside you can practically feel your guts being rearranged, a nasty squelch from your juices with every messy thrust. “Hear that baby?”

Squelch. Your pussy is practically drooling onto him. “Heh she’s fucking talking to me” He looks down, clearly in another world of his own as his hips begin to stutter. Eyes locked on your sticky pussy. “Mm fuck think she loves me”

He doesn’t know what he’s saying, his hips are twitching and he pulls you closer if that was even possible. Sero is stuck in a trance, a familiar knot filling his lower stomach as it is clear he’s just as fucked out as you are. “She’s tellin’ me that no one’s ever fucked her this good…fuck! Gonna miss me”

Your thighs are shaking, whole stomach tightens as another orgasm approaches. His dick is pressed right against the spot you need him the most, rolling you over again and again, somehow it feels like he is growing deeper. That’s it, right there.

“Mm right there baby?” He asks and you can only nod, not even realizing you had said it out loud. He gives one final sloppy thrust as he finally allows himself to let go, moaning loudly as he releases into the condom. But he continues to fuck into you, whimpers and whines leave his throat as he finds he just does not want to stop.

And your eyes are practically crossed, gasping through the way he is getting to know every square inch of your pussy. It’s enough you make you cum again and he is very reactive to your breaking point, groaning deeply as he can feel you coming undone around him. “Ohhh fuck!” You mewl before resting your forehead on his shoulder.

The two of you gasp for air, simply holding each other as his dick remains still inside you. He relaxes his arms around your waist, hugging you before digging his face into your soft, supple skin. He kisses the flesh just below your breast, licking slightly as the salty taste of sweat gets to know his mouth. You remain silent for a while trying to come back down to Earth as you hold each other close. “Let’s get you cleaned up mamas”

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚

Hanta Sero kept his promise and got you home safe. Walking you up to your front door and giving you a sweet kiss before you went inside. He promises that he will call you the next morning and you really hope he will. But you highly doubt it, he’s supposed to head back to College soon anyways so you are certain he will forget all about you. It’s not like the two of you were dating, nor had you met before this. He was just a stranger you had a one night stand with, right?

When you wake up the next morning you don’t bother to check your phone, a pit in your stomach as you are afraid to face the truth that he most likely did not call. You make your coffee first, complete your morning routine before finally taking it off the charger.

1 missed call. Unknown number.

Hey pretty girl, it’s Hanta

Call me when you wake up

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚

A/N OMG this came out just how i wanted it im so happy. Not me in my writing era. If you made it all the way to the end ty for reading!! <3

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - In Which None of You Should be Surprised by a MAJOR Upset in the Standings

Sorry this is so late. I had a pretty epic series of delays landing me at NRT for like 18 hours or something ridiculous. To be fair there are much worse airports to be stranded at.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) ep 1 of 12 - Fuck all ya'all if you thought I had taste. MeenPing are topping this damn list because... have you any idea how LONG I have been waiting for a real sports centered BL starring at least one boy who actually played the flipping sport? My whole damn life. You ready for me to go into euphoric splooges all over your screens? I don't think you are. SUFFER! And now some splooging:

It’s off to a great start. Thank you, Rebound, for being exactly what I wanted. By which I mean Meen has his shirt off literally in the first two minutes of the show. Also it’s a bit of a childhood sweethearts reunion romance. There’s nothing wrong with this beginning. Fantastic. For a change, I even enjoy the intro music. Golf is directing MeenPing this time, so maybe something magical will happen. Frank is aging so pretty!!! How nice for all of us. Even the bb play is good. It’s a proper sports BL. I’m so damn happy right now. 

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 9 of 12 - I’m so tired of Ter, but everything else was lovely. Also they are SUCH boyfriends. 

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - They are so cute in these roles. I don’t know why, I just like their vibe better here than in the previous show. (And I really enjoyed Big Dragon at the start.) This show is a lot more classic romance and kind of pat because of that. I do hope the ingénue character gets some kind of additional development and talent. But even if it stays mundane, these two have the chemistry to carry it. So I suspect I’ll keep enjoying it regardless. I am mildly intrigued by the spice of the PNR element, so I hope they run with that a bit more. I suspect they will have to, to extend the plot for 12 eps.

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - Ah Ming... famous last words. This one just makes me sigh a lot and whimper sadly. I don’t know where they’re going with this plot or how they’re gonna resolve it. Joe finally being the asshole Ming deserves is a lot of fun though (double entendre intended). I’m scared but it did make me cry... a lot. (That's fine, I'm a sap.)  

Imma say this because no one else has. Wardrobe is unilaterally terrible in this show. I mean Thailand is notoriously bad in general but this show, nash.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 13 of 16 - They are so fucking adorable. And so flirty! Also a crying kiss? My favorite! Chain’s little moment of "Cupid shoot thyself" was epic. ("Physician heal thyself" but for the BL world?) Honestly, I could watch a whole show about these two...

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - How does Gun still look like he’s just out of high school? Madness. Does the set for the print shop that he’s working in at the beginning remind anybody else of Mork’s dad’s place in ‘Cause He’s My Boy? I swear GMMTV has about 3 sets they rotate through.

To be brutally honest, I was not looking forward to the show at all. No idea why. OffGun aren’t my most favorite OG pair, but I respect them for their longevity, optics, acting shops, and enduring brand. Maybe I just needed more of a gap from Cooking Crush?

Whatever, I was absolutely riveted by this first episode. I’m enjoying The Trainee a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - This version did the "clear up of the inciting miscommunication" in such a sweet achey way. Frankly that "ache of first love" really plays to G4's strengths as a pair. This was a good ep and I’m now starting to enjoy this one for its own sake and get some distance from the JBL version. It's just there is A LOT of good stuff coming out of Thailand right now.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - I was inspired to write a Shakespearean style sonnet in this week's trash watch. Mame seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering. And I found this episode both boring and rushed at the same time. Trash watch here. (This week's trash watch also VERY delayed.)

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - It’s eminently missable... so I missed it this week in order to get this weekly update out. Next week will be a two in one. 

Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 12fin - Okay, that’s it, I guess?

Summary:

An idol romance about a sunshine boy who dances good and wants to be a star and a reserved food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks, grumpy/sunshine pair who fall in love but, of course, to be an idol baby boy can't date. It wasn’t particularly bad, it wasn’t particularly good either. 7/10

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) Ep 1 of 10 - A new series adaptation of beloved yaoi I Hear the Sunspot (first adaptation was feature film Silhouette of Your Voice 2017).

I expected the soundscapes in this one to be fantastic, but I didn’t expect the filming to be something special too. But it really is. I’m not gonna lie, I'm nervous about this show because I love the manga and was disappointed by the film, but we were off to a really good start. First names already? So cute. I love them.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Shy awkward Taishin goes to a Tokyo university in order to reunite with Takara, a stranger who consoled him over the loss of a parrot the year prior. He finally gets a chance to express his gratitude but is given the cold shoulder. (My thoughts this weekend's round up)

I can't believe Japan is holding it down for the non Thai BL. I mean to say.... JAPAN!!! What alt reality are we living in? It being Japan, I'm scared of the ending.

It's airing but...

Blue Boys is still going on and I'm still enjoying it (despite the cheating) but I don't know when it drops or where it's going, so I will report in at the end. When they tell me it's ended.

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - I've put the search on hold for and y'all can let me know if it's worth tracking down once it ends?

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution. I demand you tell me the moment you find it!

Next Week Looks Like This:

NO IMG - we half way through this week already - sorry.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

July Releases to Come

7/5 This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Thai iQIYI) - trailer here, The PittBabe team behind a new restaurant set BL full of hidden agendas and starring my new favorites SailubPon. Delightful!

7/10 Century of Love (Thai Gaga) 10 eps - trailer here, DaouOffroad are back, this time as fated mates in a quasi historical paranormal moment. San has spent many lifetimes waiting for his lost beloved, to reincarnate from her death a century ago. But if he fails to find her within this century's time window, he will succumb to a tragic death. And this time she's a boy. Very much Director Who Buys Me Dinner meets First Love Again, hopefully better than both. I love this pair and think they can handle the premise, it's whether the storytelling is up to the challenge. I'm curious to see but I have reservations.

7/26 4 Minutes (Thai Netflix or iQIYI?) - Great is a university student from Faculty of Business and the son of a wealthy business owner. Out of the blue, he gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future.

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: that premise! Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Defining @heretherebedork 's favorite endearment of "tiny idiot."

I love him. I also love what a class act they both were about this turn down. Thailand shows Korea how to handle a love triangle by NOT HAVING ONE.

Both We Are.

We stand a lap sit on this blog, but I think this is my first lap spin! I adored it! (Sunset X Vibes)

It's fun to watch them follow the original narrative but with these cute little Thai twists. Sometimes these are shifted for language reasons, sometimes for cultural, and sometimes I think just to draw a clear distinction from the JBL. I'm not mad about any of it. (My Love Mix Up)

Not just for you, honey. Truer words were never spoken. Yak is the biggest green flag ever to walk BL's verdant earth.

Linguistic corner!

I love this way of putting the translation. Usually, in Thai, the phrase used means "he's my happiness" (sounds like: kwamsook). To use sabai is different. Sabai more ubiquitous (sabai is one of the most commonly used phrases in Thailand) but also so different from the usual phrase we hear in ThBL at this moment. Thus, this execution is special, particularly from a doctor. I'm not quite sure how to put it but sabai can also be translated as feeling well, as in, not ill. So there is a way of looking at Wandee saying Yak is both his peace of mind and good for his health and well being.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Badge Bunny

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Getting pulled over by one of Stark County's finest turns into anything but a routine traffic stop.

Word count: 3.3K

18+ MDNI! Go on, get!

Warnings: Porn with a smidge of plot. Allusion to cheating (but not really!). Degradation. Oral (male receiving). Throat fucking. Spitting. Choking. Breeding kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Note: Thank you @starksbabie for keeping me motivated and constantly feeding the already rampant Gator thots! This one is for you you bb!

Badge Bunny Masterlist

Making your way down the familiar stretch of highway you weren't paying attention to any of your surroundings, only looking forward to getting home after a long night. 

Headlights cutting through the dark, deserted fields on either side of the small 2 lane road. Nothing went on this time of night. 

You hadn't noticed passing the familiar truck parked a little off the road in the gravel alcove. 

Humming along with the radio lost in your own little world the sudden bright blue lights behind you hit your eyes from the reflection in the rearview. 

“Shit,” you hissed, but wasted no time pulling over on the shoulder, rolling down the window as you came to a stop.

You watched through the side mirror. He slowly exits his truck as if he had all the time in the world. Adjusting his pants and belt before making his way toward you. 

You noted he was missing his vest and usual hat. Black shirt tight across his chest and abdomen. His thigh holster was exactly where it always was, an accessory he was almost never without. 

He sidled up to the window. Leaning down, so he could see your face. 

“Evening, license and registration.” You couldn't roll your eyes any harder. 

“Gator, I really need to get home. What's your problem this time?” 

“Hey now, that's no way to speak to a deputy.” He tapped the badge strapped to his hip. Black gloves still adorn his hands. Pity. He did have nice hands. 

“Sorry officer, where are my manners? What seems to be the problem tonight?” You put on your best innocent sounding voice, biting your lip as you looked up to him.

“Well, looks like you were going over the speed limit. Wanna step out of the vehicle for me?” his hard ass attitude on full display. 

“Gator, seriously?” You deadpanned and rolled your eyes, but he didn't budge staring down his nose at you, maintaining his authoritative demeanor. 

“Come on…out.” Patting the side of the door for emphasis. 

Quickly realizing it was no use, huffing as he stepped back to make room for you to exit the car.  

He whistles low. Appraising your bare legs in the skirt you wore for work. Waitressing at the local bar has its perks. Nice tips for a little skin.

It didn't help that your tits were pushed up practically spilling out of your top. The only sensible part of your outfit was the converse sneakers to battle any fatigue from running around all night. 

“And where are you off to dressed like that? Your boyfriend let ya’ out of the house like this?” His eyes drifting down and back up. 

Closing the door, and leaning against the side of the car he inches closer as he spoke. Looking up at him from under your lashes growing more unamused by the second. 

“My boyfriend doesn't mind at all, especially when I bring home nice tips. We both know if anyone in this town looks at me wrong he'd kill’m.”

“Is that so pretty girl? Well, he's not here is he?” Making a show to look around at the deserted surroundings, smirking back at you. “Go ahead and turn around for me.” 

You scoff. “Gator, is this absolutely necessary? I may have been going 5 over the limit.” 

“Afraid so. Have t’make sure you don't have any weapons. Hands on the side of the vehicle. Go ahead.” Nodding toward the car.

You huff again but finally relent. Turning around slowly, placing your hands palm down; you'd been through this before, you knew the routine. 

He stalked his way up to you. Anticipation already prickling your skin. Your panties growing damp. 

His chest close enough to your back that you could feel the heat radiating from him even through your shirt. 

His lips ghosted the shell of  your ear when he spoke. 

“If that boyfriend isn't going to put you in your place I guess I'll have to. And the way you've been sassing me, little girl, I've got my hands full t’night.” 

He pulled back, removing his gloves one by one, throwing them in front of you on the top of the hood. 

Placing his hands on your hips, he moved his thigh close behind you as he kicked your feet apart. 

“Gator, come on. I don't have time for this tonight.” 

He didn't say anything, instead lifting his hands higher on your body. Resting on your breasts, squeezing slightly, as your breath hitched. 

He smirked to himself. Slowly dropping his hands down your body. Across your stomach. Down your hips. Traveling the expanse of your thighs to the bottom of your skirt. He paused, pinky grazing the bare skin there that sent goosebumps across your flesh. 

He dropped past your skirt. Drawing a hand up your inner thigh as you shuddered. 

Up, up, up slowly. 

His finger grazed the now sopping fabric. You bit back a moan, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he pressed slightly into your folds, pushing harder when he reached your clit. 

“Haven't even fuckin’ touched you and you're soaked. Fuck” he hissed as he moved back up to your hips, quickly turning you easily to face him. 

Your hands landing on his chest to keep you steady. He pinched your chin between his thumb and fingers to force you to look up at him. 

“Get on your knees.” he ordered. 

You easily complied. Hands sliding down his body for purchase as you slid. Your knees hit the asphalt. Wincing as its harsh terrain dug into your knees. 

“Good girl.” the words going straight to your core. 

As always a glutton for punishment and adoring any praise he would send your way. 

Your mouth was salivating at the thought of tasting him. Without being told you popped the button on his pants, slowly sliding the zipper down.

“Fuck, look at you. Can't wait to get my cock in your mouth, huh? Been thinking about it all day?” 

He could be a mouthy bastard but God was he right. 

You licked your lips at the already prominent tent in his boxers. Pants falling just below his bulge that you palmed. He hissed, throwing his head back at the sudden contact.

Your fingers grazed the band of his underwear pulling it just a bit, just to let it go as it snapped back into place. His head turned back down to you. Eyes blown full of lust, irises no longer on display. 

“Go on. It's not gonna suck itself.” He nodded, urging you to keep going. 

Your hands pull down his boxers, exposing him fully to you. Cock springing free, teasingly so. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. He easily was the biggest you'd ever had the pleasure of handling and the cocky bastard knows it. 

Long and thick. Tip flushed the prettiest shade of pink with a small bead of precum just beginning to spill from his slit. 

You timidly placed your hand around the base as if you hadn't done it dozens of times before. He was hot and heavy in your palm. 

“Mmmmmm…. Fuck.” He sounded as if he was ready to combust on the spot. 

Wasting no time, you licked a long stripe up the entire underside of his shaft from base to tip as you heard him let out a low moan. He braced himself, placing his hands where yours had been planted moments before on the side of your car. 

You wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue just the way he liked, eliciting a whine from him. 

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned. “Been thinking about this mouth and throat all fucking day.”

You continued teasing the tip letting your hand pump his neglected shaft. You finally sank down, tip nudging the back of your throat. 

“Mmmmmm… Goddamn.” 

You pulled off of him with a loud pop. 

“Better not let your daddy hear that Gator.” You smirked to yourself. “Taking the Lord's name in vain. Especially while your dick is getting sucked.” You tsked. 

He weaved his fingers through your hair and gripped the back of your head, forcing you back to look at him. You winced at the sudden sting. 

“Still fucking sassing me? My cock not enough to shut you up?” He gave you no time to respond. 

“Open.” 

You obediently obliged, sticking your tongue out and flattening it to accommodate him, letting your eyes fall shut. 

Instead of his cock, spit hits the back of your throat. A look of shock passes your features as you look up at him under hooded eyes before a shy smile adorns your face. 

“Fucking whore. Swallow.” He practically growled. 

You close your lips and obey, a low hum of satisfaction escaping you as you swallow thickly. 

Watching your little display intently, he pumped his length a few times with his free hand, before gripping the base tapping your already swollen lips. 

Your lips part as his tip beaches the heat of your awaiting mouth. He quickly feeds you as much of his cock that you can manage. 

He doesn't give you time to adjust as he plunges deep, hitting the back of your throat. You try to breathe through your nose, letting him use you as he pleases. 

He steadies the hold on your head as he licks his lips. 

“That's it. Good fucking girl. Take it. I know you can.” 

You allow him to fuck your throat. You knew it would be sore in the morning from the relentless punches over and over. 

Your eyes were watering from the abuse, mascara running down your cheeks. You can feel saliva running down your chin.

You knew how you must look but he was looking down at you as if you were the most beautiful site he's ever seen. 

You timidly moved your hand up, reaching the edge of his boxers forcing them down even further. You wrapped your hand around his velvety sack weight heavy in your palm before tugging slightly. 

“Oh fuck.” His hips snapped, bucking into you even further as you gagged around his cock. 

He stopped suddenly, sliding his length from you. String of saliva momentarily connecting from your lips to his tip. 

“Get up and get in the back of the truck.” 

“But…” you were going to argue but the look in his eye told you he was done playing. 

“Now.” 

You quickly shuffled to your feet as he half covered himself to follow behind you. 

He knew this late at night, there wasn't any chance of someone coming by spotting the two of you in such compromising positions but just to be on the safe side he reached into your car to kill the ignition.

He did the same with his. Bright blues fading into darkness. Undoing and removing his holster placing it in the front seat, so it wouldn't get in the way for what he intended to do next. 

You opened the back door and slid yourself up into the cab. Legs dangling in the open doorway awaiting his next instruction. 

He came into view, slowly slotting himself in-between your thighs. Your skirt riding up to expose more of yourself. The way your damp panties were sticking to your folds, suddenly made you grateful for the dim light. 

His hands came to rest on the top of your thighs, squeezing. Thumbs rubbing soothingly in contrast to the way he looked like he wanted to devour you. 

“Lay back and take those panties off f’me.”

You rucked your skirt up higher above your hips putting your clothed core on full display for him. They were his favorite. Pink and lacy with a little white bow on the top, just like a little present all for him. 

He palmed himself, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he sucked in a sharp breath. 

There were no formalities when seeing him like this. It was hot and needy. Quick and dirty. 

You raised your hips, sliding your underwear down your thighs. When you made it past your knees, he slid them the rest of the way. Fingertips grazing your skin on the way down. You didn't miss the way he tucked them away for safekeeping in his pocket. 

You parted your legs as far as they would go with the limited space. 

“Look at you. Who's got you like this huh? Some trash at the bar make you this wet?” 

You shook your head. “No baby, it's you. Always you.” 

You place your fingers through his belt loops, dragging him a little closer.

“Greedy little whore tonight.” He laughs out, grinning at your eagerness. “Pull your shirt up and take those tits out.”

You do as you're told, pulling it up far enough to put your matching bra on display. 

“You wear this hoping someone would see? Huh? Such a fuckin' little whore.”

He can see your already pert nipples through the transparent fabric. He cups both breasts before pulling the fabric down fully exposing you. Not wanting to take the time to properly undress you, latching his mouth to one laving his hot tongue across your bud before taking it between his teeth biting down slightly as you moan and arch into him. 

His hand gave attention to the other, his large palm nearly covering the entirety of you before switching to do the same, so neither were neglected.  

“Fuck, these tits are so perfect. And all mine.” 

He nipped the skin, slowly moving down your sternum with hot opened mouth kisses as he finally sat back up. The cool air hitting the moisture left behind sending a small shiver through you. 

His fingers began to trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to the spot you yearn for him the most. A whine escapes you as he watches you squirm beneath him. 

He runs his finger up your slit, lips slightly parting as he grazes your bundle of nerves that has your hips bucking on their own accord. 

He slips a finger into your entrance with ease at how soaked you are. 

“Of fuck,” your head lolls to the side. 

“Jesus, this pussy always this needy?” 

You just nodded as he removed his finger, making you whine, bringing it to his parted lips, sucking with an obnoxious slurp. 

“Jesus, you always taste so fucking sweet.”

Growing impatient, you watch as he finally takes his aching cock back out from its confinements. Now an angry shade of red dons the tip, leaking another pearly bead from his slit. He was even harder than before if that was even possible. 

He runs his tip through your folds, catching your clit. That had your back arching, gasping into the sensation. 

“Yeah, that's it.”

He lined himself up with your entrance, breaching slightly. Nothing ever prepared you for the size, always a stretch no matter how many times he had fucked you. 

It was something he relished in each time you were together. Knowing that no one else could fill you up like he could.

He pushed in. Slowly, inch by inch. Your mouth falling open. Toes curling in your shoes. 

Once he reached the hilt, he quickly pulled out and snapped his hips back into yours. Punching the air from your lungs eliciting a moan so loud you were sure someone the next county over could hear. 

“God you're so tight. I missed this pussy.” His face tightened with pleasure, mouth falling slack at the feeling of your walls practically strangling his cock. 

There was no preamble as he sets a near brutal pace, fingers tight around your hips holding you in place sure to leave bruises in their wake. Punching little uh, uh, uhs from you with each upward thrust. 

“That's it. That's fucking it. Who's pussy is this huh?” He growled down at you. 

Too dazed to realize he had asked you a question, already cock drunk, he stopped mid thrust grabbing your jaw forcing you to look up at him, applying so much pressure your lips formed a small pout. 

“I asked you a fucking question. Who's pussy is this?” He loosened his grip so you could answer as he began to piston his hips once more. 

“Yours. It's…mmmm… fuck, all yours Gator.” you managed to squeak out as he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the bundle of nerves. 

He moved his other hand, tightening it around your throat, pinning you there as your own hands grasped his wrist and forearm. 

He pounded into your sopping cunt. Eyes trained to where the two of you connected, watching as his fat cock moves in and out. Enamored with the way you took him so well.

His hard length ramming into that spot within you that only he could ever seem to find, over and over, as his assault on your clit never ceased.

He knew that look, your eyes closing in anticipation of tipping over the edge. 

“Yeah? That it sweet thing? You gonna cum all over my dick?” 

“Ahhhh,” is all you could respond. He loosened the grip on your throat slightly. He wanted to hear the noises he could pull from you. 

“Come on, my little badge bunny, cum f’me. I want to feel her grip me.” 

He removed his hand entirely, bending down close to your ear, breath hot on your neck. He braced himself trying not to completely crush you beneath him. 

“Be a good girl and cum. I'll give her what she really wants. Fill her up nice so everyone knows who this pussy belongs to. Make your belly all full and round. Everyone in this fuckin' town’ll know who you belong to. You want that? I know you do.” 

His mouth was good for one thing and the filthy words falling from his lips was all it took. 

Your orgasm hit hard, the sparks behind your eyes were blinding. You didn't have time to warn him as your pussy clamped down pulsing around him, trying to milk him. 

You found purchase gripping his shoulders, screaming his name as you came. Just the way he likes. 

He stopped toying with your clit to chase his own release. He wasn't far behind you, his thrusts becoming erratic. 

He spilled into you with a loud groan and a string of words, coming out so fast you barely understood, “fuck iloveyou ilovethispussy gonnafuckin’knockyouup fuck fuck fuck.” 

He continued a few more thrusts into your already overstimulated pussy before finally stilling. 

He practically collapses on top of you. Face planted in between your neck and shoulder, he stays like for a few moments until he's breathing normally again. 

He raised up, looking for any signs of distress from you. 

“Sorry, you ok?” A sweeter tone to his voice, as he kissed your cheek. 

“M’fine. You okay baby? Roy being a dick today?” You cooed, hand to his cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly there. 

He saved these late night rendezvous for days he had a particularly hard day at work. 

His usually slick backed hair was falling into his face, as he nodded. “Yeah, but I'm better now. Ready to get home?” 

“Ready when you are, big boy.” You smiled deeply at him as his lips met yours.

It was a slow, needy kiss. His slightly chapped, wind bitten lips melted into yours as you pulled him closer. The tenderness a stark contrast to the way he fucked you moments before. 

He pulled back, landing one more peck before raising up and letting himself slip from you. You winced, already missing the way he filled you. 

He helped you into your panties muttering “don't want any of that going anywhere.” As you rolled your eyes. Thank God for birth control. 

He took your hand and helped you from the truck, kissing your temple.  

“See ya’ at home sweet thing.” Smacking your ass as you walked ahead of him to your car. 

Yeah, Gator may have been a lot of things. A jerk, asshole, sometimes misogynist (which he was working on, thanks to you) but he only had eyes for you. His sweet girl. 

And you were right about one thing. If anyone else dared to look at you the wrong way he'd kill’m. God help the poor soul who got on the wrong side of your man on a bad day.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part V

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading for me, you're the best bb!! ❤️❤️

Hello everyone!! This chapter is going to be a little more plot/lore heavy. But, we still get some sweet and flirty boys. IV brings Reader dinner and II is becoming more comfortable in his flirting. Thank you so much for reading, if you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!

WARNINGS: None

Part IV - Part VI

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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Today was one of those times where your store was absolutely slammed. "I'll be right with you Jay, just give me one second." You clap the older man on the shoulder as you round the counter.

"No worries darlin', I got all day." He smiles cheerfully at you." You hurriedly set a fresh batch of coffee to brew, quickly cleaning up the station.

"Next batch will be done in about ten minutes guys." You smile as you pass by a tow of your usuals, a group of old timers that would set up shop at the shelf along one of the windows and spend their day drinking cups of coffee and playing scratch tickets.

"Now Miss (Y/N), don't you go running off, I got a vibe to pick with you young lady." You skidded to a halt, turning in your heels to face the myriad of curious stares.

"You better make this quick Randy, I got a line out the door." You huff with a sarcastic smile.

"I just want to know what you're doing hanging around with those cultists." Your eye involuntarily twitched as he spit out the word. "I'd just hate to see you get mixed up in that crowd."

"They're nice boys Randy." You hurry up to the counter as you continue to call over your shoulder. "It might do you some good to actually get to know them before you try to crucify them over nothing.

"Why don't you try inviting them to the Fall Festival?" Jay asks gently.

"Unfortunately I don't think they'd go. I know it's hard to believe but they're just as nervous about you as you are about them." You explain with a huff.

"I think it's worth a shot at least." He leans in a bit to whisper to you. "Now I can't speak for everyone obviously, but I think if the townsfolk actually got to meet them and see that they're not some big ol' scary monster in the woods… well, they might just come around." He offers his advice with a patient smile. "If you're saying they're a good group of guys I trust your judgment. Your word means a lot more to me than some blood thirsty reporter after a story."

"Thanks Jay, I'll ask them. Who knows, maybe they'll show up." He bids you farewell before leaving you to tend to the rest of your sea of customers. After what felt like an eternity your store was finally empty. You groaned, slumping over the counter. The cool linoleum felt nice against your sticky skin. You jolted up at the sound of the bell ringing above the door, eyes flashing over to reveal II and IV looking at you curiously. "Hey guys." You give them a tired smile.

"Everything alright, love? You look exhausted." II approaches the counter, his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, just a long day." You explain. You sit down in your chair, resting your elbows on the counter. II copies your motions, his eyes searching yours, his nose just barely out of reach from bumping into you.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You shake your head in response.

"You boys are already too good to me as it is." You giggle as II playfully rolls his eyes. "I'll be alright, just gotta do some quick cleaning before I go upstairs. Then it's a cup of ramen cause I'm too lazy to cook and shitty movie re-runs until I pass out on my couch."

"A cup of ramen isn't a meal, doll." He tuts.

"I know that, doctor." He chuckles at your sarcastic tone. "I'll be alright, one night without a proper dinner isn't going to kill me."

"I wish we could come help more around here, I hate seeing you so tired." IV chimes in, dropping an armful of snacks on the counter.

"I appreciate all your help, but I promise you, I'll be just fine." You respond with a reassuring smile. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your answer but they could tell you weren't in the mood to argue.

II sighs, "just promise me after you finish up here you'll go get some rest."

"You have my word." You chuckle. The two of them finish their shopping, idly chatting with you as you do some cleaning up. "Goodnight guys, get home safely." You wave as they head out.

"I better not come back here and see you exhausted tomorrow." II warns playfully.

"I'll try my best." He winks at you before pushing out the door. IV wishes you goodnight before joining his companion.

You collapsed on your couch with a groan once you finally made it upstairs. Despite how much you were trying to convince yourself you weren't hungry your growling stomach said otherwise. You lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, when suddenly the familiar rumble of a pick up truck pulls into the lot. You stood, walking over to the window and pushing the curtain aside. You saw IV fumbling with something in his passenger seat before kicking the door open. You met him at the back door, he froze when he saw you standing at the top of the landing with a smirk spread across your features. "I, uh, I brought some food." He offers bashfully.

"Come on up IV." You chuckle before heading back inside. IV steps into your apartment, eyeing you curiously.

"I'm sorry I showed up without an invitation." He apologizes. You smile, taking a couple steps closer to him.

"You're welcome here anytime." He breathes out a laugh as his eyes dart to the floor. You offer to take the food for him, setting up a spot for the both of you on your couch. "I am curious, how did you manage to get fast food without raising any suspicion?" You ask as you pop a fry in your mouth. IV chuckles in response, adjusting to sit more comfortably.

"It's a funny story actually, I pulled up at the drive through and the kid working there told me he liked my costume." You laugh.

"Really?" He nods. The thought of the Fall Festival popped into your mind; how you would love to bring the four of them because you know they would have a great time, how it would give them a chance to see the town for what it really was, and of course your little crush on the charming masked men didn't help either. "IV, do you think Vessel plans on ever going into town? You know, aside from you guys making supply runs under the cover of darkness." You joke.

"If I'm being completely honest, I don't know." He pulls his mask away from his face to take a sip of his drink. "I'm the newest of our little group so I can't give you the whole story, but from what I understand up until we reached here things weren't too great. There's a lot of people out there who want to get rid of us before they even have a chance to get to know us. We've been run out of town after town, sometimes through more… humane means… other times not so much. But, we have something good here, with the camp in the woods, with you." He pauses for a moment to smile at you. "That's something I want to try and hold onto for as long as I can."

You study him for a moment, "what if I tried to help?" You offer. "I could be the middleman for you. People in town know me, I grew up here, that has to mean something. I just… I don't want you to have to constantly be worried about someone being out to get you. I know that if they met you, if they got to know the people I know you are, they wouldn't be afraid anymore."

"I'm sure Vessel would be interested in hearing you out. Who knows, maybe you'll actually convince him." He chuckles. "Between you and me, if you bat those pretty little eyes at him, I'm sure you could convince him to do just about anything." He jokes as he shoots you a wink.

"I bet that line works on all the girls, huh?" You giggle, trying to shake off the heat that had settled in your cheeks.

"As long as it works on you I'm set." You playfully smack his arm. He nestles back into the couch cushions, letting out a soft groan as he stretches an arm over the back, the back of your neck buzzing as you feel his warmth seep into your skin.

"You're all a bunch of flirts." You smile at him.

"A bunch of flirts?" You roll your eyes at his mock annoyance. "It's not my fault that you're so captivatingly beautiful." You noticed that growing familiarity in your chest. The steady thrum of your heartbeat as you tried to hide your flustered state. IV leans in closer to you, his side pressed flush against your body. "Once I met you I understood what they were all fussing over." He chuckles before muttering, "the perfect being brought to us by Sleep." You turn to look at him, his hazy blue eyes coaxing you in deeper with every passing second.

"Who's… who's Sleep?" You whisper. IV tilts his head, a curious expression matching yours. The pieces must have clicked together because he returned to his usual smiling self a moment later.

"You'll find out soon, Vessel's probably waiting for the right time to explain." You accepted his explanation without a fuss. You trusted that if it was something you needed to know they would tell you. He glanced up at the clock, "I'm sorry to cut things short, love, but I should head back." You nod, standing and walking him over to the door.

"Thank you for bringing some food." You smile.

"Anytime." He responds with a wink. "Get some rest, alright? II will throw a fit." You both shared a laugh before IV reached out and pulled you into his arms. You froze at first, not fully comprehending that he had wrapped you in a hug. But, the moment realization set in your arms slipped around his torso. Neither of you were in a rush to let go, the two of you standing in a comfortable silence as IV held you close, gently swaying you from side to side.

"Goodnight, doll." His hand lingers in your hip, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before slipping out the door.

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Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @themultiverseofmars @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @bookishpenguino @m0cha-bunny @coreofpleasure @madsthenightowl @dangerkitten1705 @rainy-darling @shad0wcast @amara-among-the-stars @venuswinnyix @dontpercieve-me-pls @ripleyswife @thepityscene @lipstick-and-lycanthropes @vmpirekiss @savaneafricaine @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!!)

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter one (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter one: a safe place to land

summary: you're finally getting your dream job, working with some of the best dancers in the business, but a job change means a break in your healthcare coverage and suppressants these days are expensive. going into heat at the studio pretty much seems like the worst case scenario, but you find yourself in the care of two alphas who won't let you go through it alone. note: reader and the boys are not idols in this fic, but instead are part of the bb trippin dance crew. the idol group mentioned in the fic's name is 'new world' which was one of the early options for ateez's name, and i just thought that was cute. overall though, i know very little about dancing and choreography. i did my best to research what that field might be like, but please know there are likely inaccuracies. also.... i have no idea how healthcare coverage with jobs work in korea and my research wasn't too helpful. we're going with what i know which is often a ninety day waiting period before you get health coverage at a new job, which means reader here cannot afford her medication out of pocket. go with it, for me ♡

warnings: just.... so much smut including: heat, nesting, knotting, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, big dick yunho, implied breeding kink (it's omegaverse so ya know), gratuitous praise to make reader feel better, lots of pet names, lots of heat symptoms like cramps, slick, and insatiable horniness.

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, abo/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 13.6K

next chapter | AO3

The first sign is the headache, a low, dull throb at the back of your skull. It’s not a full-blown migraine yet, but it might become one and that’s your first indication that your heat is close. You’ve done your suppressant rationing and your bargaining and your plotting and planning, but in the end it’s going to come down to luck if you can make it through the recording. 

You had asked the company about their heat leave policy in the most casual way that you could, still new enough to KQ that it seemed natural for an omega to be asking. You don’t know why you were surprised, but as always the policy is disappointing. Full health coverage only after ninety days of employment, and until then not only are your suppressants not covered any heat leave is fully unpaid. 

You had studied your cycle calendar in detail and tried to map out the dates, but no matter how you drew it or cut up the last of your suppressants to try and extend the effects, your heat was going to fall on or around your first real performance. And it’s not like you’re an idol, it’s not like the camera will be focused on you, but the idea of letting your new crew down two months into being here  is too fucked a thought to entertain. 

Your throat feels dry after the first run through of the routine, unnaturally so, a tight cough building in the back of your throat as you try to hold it together. The minute the music fades you’re falling out of formation before anyone else and covering your mouth with your elbow, coughing dryly into your sleeve. 

“You good?” San asks from his place next to you. 

“Mhm,” You nod tightly, but the cough is lodged in your throat, “I just need to,”

A bottle of water is pushed into your hand and you nod in thanks, unscrewing the cap fast and knocking it back, letting the cold water soothe your throat. 

“Are you sick, y/n?” San crosses his arms to appraise you better, ducking his head and getting a good look at you. 

“No, no,” You take a deep breath now that you can and shake your head, “just dry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to slow us down.” 

“Let’s take five,” Yunho announces from the front. 

You take another sip of water and the group starts to break apart. The cool bottle keeps you grounded and as far from anxiety as you can possibly get with the knowledge of this hanging over you. 

“You good?” Yujin, one of the few other female BB Trippin dancers, asks, her chest heaving as she jogs up to you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You assure her, “I just need a minute,” 

She squeezes your shoulder before moving past you, and you lean back against the wall nearby before taking a deep breath. Your eyes go unfocused towards the mirror as you collect yourself, drinking more water and hoping that no one’s upset with the delay. You’re still new here, but so far you’ve been accepted into the fold well, only a few of the dancers more aloof, so focused on the work you haven’t had a chance to try and make friends. You hope they aren’t upset at your sudden need for a break right on the first run through on the big day. You feel hot eyes on you, and you focus, catching Minseok in the mirror. He’s always pleasant and polite, but never overly friendly, and when you catch his gaze momentarily you see that his jaw is tight and his throat jumps like a spasm as he swallows and averts his eyes from yours. 

Your brow knits in confusion, but Yunho appearing next to you breaks the brief moment of concentration and you turn towards him. 

His eyes are soft, but his face is still serious and wired into work, “You sure you’re good?” 

“Definitely,” You protest, “really,” 

He chews the inside of his lip for a moment before adjusting the cap on his head and holding out a little bottle of pills, “Your head?” 

“How did you know?” You thought you were good at concealing it. 

“You keep wincing when I put the high lights on,” He nods up towards the fluorescents, “migraine?” 

“A little one,” You assure him, you know he’s got to be worried about you dropping out of formation right before recording, “but I got this,” 

As the lead choreographer and director of today’s stage performance, he’s been on edge this week. He’s so incredibly focused on the finer details down to every precise placement, finger extension, facial expression. You’ve been a dancer for a long time, and you’ve worked behind idol groups before, but not like this. The atmosphere here is different, and working with New World doesn’t feel like backup dancing at all. And for Yunho, it’s become clear to you over the past couple of months that while he isn’t the boss, he is the leader here and he takes that responsibility incredibly personally. 

But despite all that pressure and responsibility, he surprises you when he smiles at your admission, “I get them sometimes. Do you get auras?” 

You shake your head.

“I do,” He offers you the bottle again, “it sucks, but you know, the light sensitivity is always the worst thing,” 

You take the bottle and tip the migraine medication out into your palm, “Yeah,” 

“Are you sure you don’t need to tap out?” He offers, voice a little softer so that it’s a conversation just between you, “I know you don’t want to, but I can’t have you falling on stage,” 

“No, honestly, I wouldn’t put the team in that position,” You look up, trying your best to convey with your eyes that you can make it, even though the low throb in your skull says otherwise. 

“Okay,” He nods once, “I just had to ask. Are you ready?” 

“Ready,” 

“Alright,” He takes a step away and moves back towards the main part of the room. This time he doesn’t adjust the lights, he keeps the room low lit and calm and he claps as he turns back to the room at large, “Let’s run it again. We have an hour before the van gets here, and then from there it’s go time. We ready?” 

A chorus of yes echoes back, and you lend your voice to the mix, shaking off the pounding in your brain. You can do this. You can. Wooyoung punches your arm softly as he walks by you to get to his starting position, flashing you a smile and an encouraging nod. With a deep exhale you let it go, and you get to work. 

By the time you finish the third run through, your muscles are screaming, but you’ve managed to hold the rest tightly in. The migration medication seems to be helping, and though you can sense Yunho continuing to glance at you in the mirror he seems pleased that you’re keeping up. You just need to make it through this day, and then you can let it all fall apart.

With a glance at your watch, the hour now up, you realize just how much more time there is to get through. It’s only six in the morning, the earliest you’ve had to get up and be ready for this job yet. You’ve been told that if you’re ever a supporting dancer for a comeback stage it will be even earlier, two or three to accommodate pre-recording time. For this though, you’re not filming a comeback stage. You’ll get to the studios alongside New World at around seven-thirty, spend at least an hour or two getting ready in the green room, and then from there it will be a waiting game, and you don’t really know how a show like this will go. Music shows are a well oiled machine of time management, but this type of larger long program for their survival show stage is something you just aren’t used to. 

You just have to, without question, make it back home, but that might be eight hours from now or twelve, and that level of uncertainty makes your stomach churn. 

On the bus you take stock. Sore muscles, dry throat, ever so slight cramping in your back, bubbling migraine, fatigue. You’re not yet feeling the waves of hot flashing blush or deep, burgeoning cramps, but it’s not too far off. It feels like at the very least the quarter suppressant you choked down this morning might be doing just enough to mask the scent of your pre-heat, and that’s the best you can do. At least for now, no one’s noticed how close you are to the edge. No one, except possibly Wooyoung. 

“Here,” He says from his seat next to you, offering you a lozenge from a bag, “for your throat,” 

You stare for a second at the offering before your brain fires and you accept one with quiet thanks. Omegas often keep cooling lozenges around for their heat and pre-heat, something to take the edge off the soreness and dryness and it doesn’t surprise you that the only one attuned to your slight discomfort is another omega.

“You can keep the bag,” He places it on your lap, “if you need it,” 

“I’m good,” You pass it back, not wanting to admit how close you really are, “like I said, just dry,” 

“Okay,” He nods, and then he lets the subject lie, “are you ready for today?” 

“Yeah,” You swallow tightly, “nervous, but yeah,” 

“Mm,” He grins, relaxing back into his seat, “it’s fun, I promise,” 

“Yeah?” 

“When you see it all come together on the monitors,” He nods, “it just makes it all worth it,” 

“All the work, you mean?” You can’t help but glance up the length of the bus, to where Yunho sits alongside San and Mingi, all talking quietly and seriously amongst themselves. 

“Yeah,” He nods, “you’ve been working a lot of nights too, catching up,” 

“I just don’t want me being new to be the reason it’s not perfect,” You reply with ease. 

“That’s good,” Wooyoung says, “and I promise if you weren’t nailing it, you’d know by now.” 

“Would I?” 

“You wouldn’t be sitting here,” Wooyoung nods towards the front, “Mingi would have cut you ages ago,” 

“Mingi?” He’s been nothing but nice, flirty, and funny. He’d been helping you out at night to get better, you thought so that Yunho and San didn’t have an inkling that you’re behind. 

“His opinion is the one that matters,” Wooyoung laughs, whispering to you so the rest of the bus can’t hear, “have you not picked up on that yet?” 

You shake your head slowly. 

“y/n,” Wooyoung smiles as he realizes just how clueless you are, “Yunho would recommend we all stop drinking water if Mingi said it was a good idea. Mingi trusts his gut, and Yunho trusts Mingi,” 

“Oh,” You breathe. 

“Yep,”

“What about Jaemin?” You ask softly. You’ve only met the actual crew leader a few times here and there, but most of the time he’s not at the studio itself. 

“He keeps the work coming and the doors open,” Wooyoung says, “but they keep us moving.” 

You let his words sink in, the reality that for weeks you’ve been working side by side with Mingi and confessing all your fears of inadequacy, that he was the person who had to approve of you all along and you never knew it. You sigh, “Are you just trying to hype me up, or are you being serious?” 

“I don’t lie.” He says, full stop, no room for misinterpretation. 

The menthol lozenge burns a little on your tongue, but soothes the cut feeling in the back of your throat when you swallow and you find that finally for the first time all night you’re able to really exhale. With a soft nod you turn to him, “Okay,” 

“Okay?” 

“Let’s fucking do this,” 

He grins, “After this stage you’re officially one of us, you know,” 

Your eyes narrow, “You said that after my first week,” 

He rolls his eyes, “Okay, maybe I lie a little,” 

For the afternoon, with the lightness of Wooyoung by your side, you forget about your headache. The day happens fast, even with all the sitting and waiting in green rooms. There’s so much to remember, from camera positions to where the light is coming from, to how to adapt to the stage floor being just a little smaller than what you were working with back at KQ. The members seem suddenly focused in a way you’ve never experienced, you know what this means to them. To all of you. By the time it’s filming, you’ve had at least six lozenges and taken two more painkillers for your migraine to keep it at bay, and you're starting to feel exhausted. You film it twice, from two angles. Wide for choreography and tighter close ups on the members for cinematic facial expressions and intricacies of movement. 

When it’s all over and you pile back into the van, your legs feel heavy and disconnected. If you can just make it back to the studio, you can change and call an Uber and get inside before it knocks you sideways. 

Someone suggests drinks, someone else suggests a celebratory meal. 

You want nothing more than for the van to speed up. 

You grip your hand tight and breathe through the tight sensations in your body and no one ever notices a thing, not even Wooyoung who seems caught in the euphoria of the performance, your quietness blissfully overlooked for the moment. 

At the studio, it takes time for the locker room to clear out after the show, everyone else riding on the high of the performance too and slow to pack up for the night. It had gone so well, despite the way you had to push through the pain.  As the pain worsens, you’re not sure how you’re going to get home, but you know you need to figure it out soon. You can maybe call one of your roommates, but on a Friday night it feels unlikely that they’ll be available or sober enough to get you. 

A cramp ripples through you, and you grip down on the wooden bench, your leg bouncing to try and distract you from the waves of sensation washing over you. It’s been years since your last heat, and you can already tell this is going to be hard and heady. Sweat is collecting on your brow, waves of uncomfortable warmth passing through your body, and you can feel the way your breath is tightening. You really don’t have long, a matter of hours maybe, but it’s obvious to anyone who looks at you what’s going on. 

You fish your phone out of your bag and scan through your contacts, blinking hard to try and clear your blurring vision. The phone keeps ringing, first one of your roommates, then another, and when you hit their voicemail boxes for the second time, your phone slips from your fingers in frustration. Tears prick the back of your eyes, your hands shaking. You really thought you had more time. 

A noise across the locker room startles you, the heavy metal clang of a locker closing and you realize someone’s still in here with you. You’re trembling, a mix of abject panic and pain, your omega surfacing inside you in a way that you can’t control. Footsteps come closer, and though you’re still shielded by a row of lockers and can’t see him, you can smell him. Rich, cocoa and cinnamon. 

Mingi walks past your section of lockers, and you hope he won’t notice, but you’re never, ever that lucky. 

“Hey,” He says when he catches sight of you, “you did good tonight,” 

You keep your eyes away from his, curling down further to tug at the laces of your shoes and hope that he doesn’t notice the way you’re clenching your jaw to keep from crying, “Thanks,” 

“Yeah,” He says, and you hear his steps shift and then pause. 

Your eyes press closed as you hide behind the curtain of your hair. 

“y/n,” Mingi asks, “are you okay?”

“Mhm,” You pull your laces tight, your insides cramping painfully as your body registers the presence of an alpha. 

“Are you sure?” He asks. 

Biting down on the inside of your cheek you steady your voice, “Yeah, I’m good, just tired.” 

Mingi doesn’t answer, doesn’t move, and there’s really only so long you can pretend to tie your shoes. You tug your other laces taut and then do your best, leaning back up into a normal sitting position despite the pained pressure inside you. You grip down on the bench again and breathe slowly through your nose. 

“Are you hurt?” Mingi asks, concern evident in his voice, “Did you pull something?” 

You shake your head, you can’t trust your words. 

“Something’s wrong,” Mingi takes a step forward and you jolt back, sliding off the edge of the bench with a tight sound, your back connecting hard with the lockers behind you. His eyes widen at your sudden movement and you hold a hand out to keep him right where is. 

“Stop,” You plead, body shaking, “don’t,” 

“You are hurt,” He can feel your fear, and his eyes are panicked as he scans your body, “what happened?” 

“It’s not,” You sigh, shaking your head, another hot flash making your cheeks light up with blush and cutting your words. 

When he takes another step forwards you watch his face change, the way his breathing settles low into his chest as he regards you and comprehension starts to relax his face. Your eyes press closed as another cramp ripples through your abdomen, and suddenly you feel the first rush of slick. 

“Fuck,” Mingi says, “what are you doing here?” 

“Working,” You groan, opening your eyes again. 

“You should be on heat leave,” He shakes his head, “you should be home,”

“I know,” You nod, your throat growing tight and tears bubbling back up, “I-I asked, but it would have been unpaid, and with the performance… I couldn’t afford to not be here. I thought I had a little more time,” 

“Okay,” He steps a little closer and you shake your head, pressing your body back further against the lockers as if that will do anything, “it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“I know that,” You laugh humorlessly, “but right now your scent is making this harder,” 

“Oh,” He swallows hard, “I didn’t mean to,” 

“Mingi,” You meet his gaze and his eyes soften, “I need help,” You wish you didn’t have to ask. You wish you had just stayed home, not rationed your suppressants, and just handled this on your own. 

He nods, straightening up and swallowing hard, “Okay, let’s go,” 

“Go?” You watch as he picks up your bag and slings it over his shoulder with his own. 

“Can you walk?” He holds a hand out to you, an offering and nothing more if you want it. 

“Yeah,” You stammer, pushing yourself off the lockers, but one step already has you shaky and you grip his hand and let him hold your weight to keep you standing. 

“Alright,” He shakes his head, “I’m sorry, just hold your breath or something,” 

His arm wraps around your back, pulling you up and supporting your weight with a sure hand on your forearm and with his help, you take a step. His scent is dizzying, equal parts calming and arousing, and tears roll down your cheeks as you try to keep quiet and hold it together. Slick pools between your thighs and you’re sure he can smell it, but he’s doing a good job of saying nothing about it to you. 

“W-where are we going?” You manage as he pushes the door to the locker room open and steers you out into the dimly lit hallway of the dance studio. 

“We need to get Yunho,” He says with ease, like it’s obvious and poses absolutely no problem. 

At the thought of him, your body clenches and you bite down to keep a tight, pained sound inside. “No, Mingi, he can’t,” 

“We’re past that point,” Mingi is all but dragging you now, “I need his help, I can’t get you home by myself.” 

Yunho’s the only one with a car between them, not the mention a driver’s license. Mingi typically hitches a ride with him or using the subway, and at this stage in your heat, it’s not safe to take public transportation or put you in a taxi. There are too many variables, too many people you don’t know, and you need someone you trust to get you to a safe location to ride this out. The idea of Yunho tears your body in two, caught between the feeling of wanting him and never wanting him to know about this, but you know he’s safe, that safe place. 

There’s a light still on in the office at the end of the hall where you know Yunho is going through footage from the day and making notes while things are still fresh in his mind. When you’re close enough to the door but still safely in the hall, Mingi calls out, “Yunho!”

“Yeah?” He shouts back, and you can hear the distraction in his voice, a clear picture of him writing something down as he calls over his shoulder. 

“I need your help,” Mingi adjusts his grip on you, holding you close as your body trembles in his arms, “like right now,” 

“Uh,” Yunho trails off, “yeah, okay, yeah, I’m coming.” You hear Yunho jump up from the chair in the office, his quick footsteps, and another wave of fear flutters through you. 

“Mingi,” You grip down on his hand. 

“Right, fuck,” He remembers himself, tucking you closer to his chest, “slowly,” 

“What?” Yunho’s voice comes from the office but you can see his shadow on the floor in the hall as he gets closer to the door. 

“Yunho!” Mingi’s voice is deep, clear and firm and you let your head rock back on his shoulder, “Slowly, seriously,” 

He’s not distracted anymore, he’s incredibly alert. Yunho steps into the hallway slowly, just as directed when he hears the tenor of his best friend’s voice, and it takes him seconds to size up what’s going on. 

“y/n,” He takes a half step forward and stops himself, arm outstretched, “oh no,” 

His soft tone soothes you instantly but it doesn't help the emotional live wire you feel like you’re walking, and a little sob bubbles out of you, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” 

“You’re in heat,” He says, shaking his head, “it’s not safe for you to be here, why are you here?” 

Your omega shrinks and more tears spill over, the wave uncontrollable now, “I’m sorry, please,” 

Yunho’s eyes flick to Mingi’s before he comes closer, reaching out for you, “I’m not upset,” 

Relief washes through you, “You’re not?” 

“No,” He assures you, his voice dropping to a warm and even tone, “I’m just worried about you, I want you safe. Come here,” 

You comply instantly, stepping out of Mingi’s hold and straight into Yunho’s arms, letting him tuck you close into his chest before he adjusts his stance and brings your face up to the crook of his neck. His scent washes over you like a salve, nothing but warm rain and fresh cut cedar. 

“Shh,” He soothes you, running a hand down your back, “there we go, take a deep breath,” 

For a minute, it feels like your cramps have passed, your head clearing. He grounds you and brings you back into your body with his touch and you breathe low and slow, your hands gripping his shirt. 

“Okay,” Yunho murmurs, “what’s your heat plan? We can take you and get you there safe,” 

You shake your head into his neck, nuzzling closer to his skin, “I don’t really have one,” 

“What do you mean?” He asks, clearly not understanding. 

“You can take me home,” You tell him, eyes drifting closed, “I usually can take care of things myself,”

“That’s insane,” Mingi says from behind you both, and you feel Yunho’s hands tighten on your back. 

“Who’s there with you?” Yunho asks, “Don’t you have roommates?” 

You nod, resting on his shoulder, “Mhm,” 

“y/n,” He prompts you, “what are their designations?” 

“Mm,” You’re feeling so warm wrapped in his scent, “Ari and Hyejin are betas, Hyunwoo is an alpha but he’s probably out tonight,” 

“Tonight,” Yunho shakes his head, “you go through heats like this with an alpha home?” 

“Not like this,” You mumble into his chest and he shifts you in his arms. 

“What did you say?” 

“Not a heat like this,” You manage, “I’m normally on pretty heavy suppressants,” 

“She can’t go home like this,” Mingi says, “this is still just pre-heat,”

“I think so,” Yunho’s voice sounds far away, and you sink into the steady sound of his heart and the feeling of his hand smoothing a comforting line up and down your back. When he finally speaks again, his voice is so tender you almost don’t recognize it, “Can we bring you home? Let me help, you can’t go through a heat this hard by yourself,” 

“Yunho,” You shudder against him, “we can’t,” 

The thought of his cock inside you flashes through your brain, and you imagine the feeling of his swollen knot locking in, your body full and sated and the cramps dissipating. Your core throbs at the idea and you feel another rush of slick rush through you. 

“You’re in pain,” He murmurs, dropping his head a little lower, “you need an alpha. Let me take care of you, let me take you home,” 

You should say no, you should take your chances in your apartment with your box of toys and a bottle of lube, but you keep breathing in his steady scent and all you can do is say yes. Yunho’s been kind to you since the beginning, taking care of you for weeks even if he didn’t really know it, and he can take care of you now too if you just let him. 

“We’ll take care of you,” Mingi cuts in, offering his help softly, “and make sure you’re safe until it’s over,” 

“Are you sure?” You pull back from Yunho’s neck, leaning heavily on his chest still. 

He cups your cheek in his broad hand, bringing your eyes up to his, and nods, “Positive, and if you don’t,” he swallows hard tries to find the right words, “if you don’t want to have sex we can figure something out, but you need a place that’s private, and you need to be with more experienced alphas who know how to keep their hands to themselves.”

They’re not wrong. You just have to trust them. You just have to let go. 

Your body makes the decision for you, the way your aching and throbbing is soothed just being between them, and you let your mind follow. 

“Okay,” You sigh, leaning into his hand, “yes,” 

“Alright,” He sighs, “don’t worry about a thing, okay? We’ll get you home.” Yunho’s thumb rubs a soothing pattern into the soft gland at your wrist and it relaxes you further. He looks over you for a moment, “Mingi, I need you to take her for a minute, I’ll get the car.” 

When Yunho steps away, just to try and pass you back to Mingi, the lack of contact strikes panic through you and you shake your head, “No, no, don’t go,” 

“It’s not for long,” He assures you, his hands sliding down your arms as he separates from you slowly, “I’ll be back in 5 minutes,” 

A panicked whine leaves your throat and your mind spins, “Don’t leave me!” 

“Hey,” He soothes you but you don’t respond, all you know is he’s leaving and you’ll be without him and the thought makes your body clench. “y/n, hey, y/n,” He tries again but you’re shaking your head. “Omega.” His voice roots you to the spot. 

Mingi’s hands close over you gingerly from behind, and Yunho nods as your panicked noises stop, “Okay, see?” He says, “Listen to me, omega, I’m not going far. You won’t be alone, Mingi’s right here. I’ll be back in five minutes, and then I won’t leave you again, okay?” 

“Okay,” You lean back into Mingi, and let his touch keep you warm. 

Yunho nods and then keeps his eyes on you as he moves back to the office, darting out of your eye line for a moment. You can hear him grabbing his things; the zip of his bag, the jingle of his keys, and the lights flick off before he jogs back out. 

“Here,” He says, holding out his jacket, “put this on,” 

Mingi takes it from his hands, and eases it onto you. When you pull the jacket up, his scent washes over you again and you sigh. 

“Better?” Yunho asks. 

“Mhm,” You murmur, and tucked into the warmth of Mingi’s chest with their combined scents easing you, you can breathe. You keep your eyes closed, but you hear when Yunho walks out the front door and your body clenches a little, but you take a deep breath in.

“Mingi,” You finally say, looking up at him, “thank you for not leaving me,” 

“Hey,” He shakes his head, “I was never going to leave you there,”

You nod, twisting in his arms so you can tuck your face into his chest and let his arms wrap fully around you, “I’m sorry,” you sigh, “I’m not usually such a touchy person,” 

He chuckles, smoothing your hair with his hand, “It’s okay, I like it,” 

“And Yunho?” 

“Oh,” Mingi laughs, “he’s a cuddler, don’t worry.” 

Your stomach cramps and you groan into his chest, “God,” you grip him, “I forgot how much this hurts,” 

“How long has it been?” Mingi shifts his grip so that more of your weight is supported, “You know, since your last real heat?” 

“Years,” You tell him honestly, “they’ve been so much easier on suppressants,” 

“Mm,” Mingi nods above you, “when this hits it’s going to be intense,” 

“Have you helped a partner through heat before?” 

“I have,” Mingi says, “but Yunho hasn’t,” 

“Oh,” You have no idea why Yunho offered himself up immediately like he had done it a thousand times before if he’s never shared a heat with someone. The sure, practiced tenor of his voice when he called you omega rings in your ears. 

“Don’t worry,” Mingi assures you, “I know what I’m doing, and Yunho’s got a handle on himself. He won’t touch you if you don’t want him to,” 

“I’m really, really not worried about that,” You sigh. 

“Good,” Mingi’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket, and he adjusts his arms around you so he can find it, “We’ll take care of you - Hey? Are you out front?” 

You can’t hear Yunho’s side of the conversation but you just wait, held against him. 

“Okay, I got her,” Mingi says, and you smile. 

You forgot the way that heat takes over every physical sensation, every little thing heightened until you feel like you’re on a razor’s edge. In a matter of hours you’re going to be a writhing mess, in so much pain you might be delirious - you might ask anything of them, beg for anything.  You have to reconcile with your shame now, and let them help. After weeks of dancing around Yunho, what you really want is to ask him out for coffee, not this. Mingi is no stranger to being flirtatious, those sparks between you already evident, but it always felt like a little inside joke between friends, not a step towards anything more.  

“Alright, just a little further,” Mingi urges you as he slips his arm under yours. 

It takes time to get to the car, but when you get there, Mingi slides into the backseat with you instead of taking the front with Yunho like he normally would. Enclosed in the warmth of the car, you relax into Mingi’s arms and find Yunho’s eyes studying you in the rearview mirror. Their scents settle you a bit, more than any other alpha’s ever has. 

“I’m okay,” You assure them, “it’s coming and going,” 

“We don’t live too far,” Yunho smiles, “so just try to relax and we’ll be inside soon, okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

Mingi eases you against him, feeling your exhaustion, until you’re nestled in his lap with his fingers softly carding through your hair. Yunho’s eyes flick back to you again and again as he drives, but for the first time since the locker room, you’re not in too much pain. 

“Yunho,” Mingi murmurs and his friend hums a noise of acknowledgement, “we need to pick up a few things for her,” 

“What do you mean?” 

“She needs to eat before this really starts,” Mingi says quietly, “I think we have water bottles at home and ice packs?” 

“Yeah we do, I went to the store a couple days ago,” Yunho glances back at you again. 

“Okay,” Mingi’s fingers keep up their soothing brushes on your scalp, “and we need condoms, in case.” 

“Oh,” Yunho blinks and opens his mouth to say something but you get there more quickly. 

“We don’t need them,” You twitch as a cramp ripples through you, “I’m on birth control,” 

“If it would make you feel more comfortable though,” Mingi offers. 

“No,” You groan a little and shift on the uncomfortable back seat, “really, I’m good.” 

The car is quiet for a minute, the reality sinking in that they won’t just be keeping you safe tucked away in a room in their apartment, but they will be helping you. Yunho clears his throat, “Then we’re good, let’s get you home and in bed, and then we can order food? Do we have time?” 

“Mhm,” You assure him, “I’m okay now that i’m with you both,” 

“Exactly,” Mingi soothes you as your fists tighten, eyes closing as you breathe through another small cramp, “your alphas will take good care of you,” 

You release a shuddering breath, the word sinking into your chest and keeping you whole. 

“Almost there,” He murmurs, “just breathe, omega,” 

Getting you upstairs to their apartment proves a little challenging, moving through the lobby of the apartment building and ferrying you into an elevator. They stay close to you, keeping you firmly tucked between them as they walk you in, and you do your very best to seem in control and not draw any unnecessary attention. 

The minute their apartment door closes though, your legs give out and Mingi scoops you up, “You did so well,” he assures you, and it’s evident now that he is the one with the experience here, knowing exactly what the primal part of your brain needs to hear. 

“I’ll order food,” Yunho says, giving you a small smile. 

“Get her some meat,” Mingi directs him, “broth too, and lots of rice,” 

“You are good at this,” You sigh. 

“We got you,” Mingi grins, acting like this is second nature, “now… I can put you to bed, or would you like a cool shower before you lay down? I know that helps,” 

“Mm, yes please,” You nod. 

“Alright,” Mingi nods and looks up, “get the food going, and then meet me in my room with some water and the ice packs.” 

“Right,” Yunho looks at you, “are you okay with just Mingi?” 

“Yeah,” You smile, “I’m feeling okay,” 

“Good,” Yunho smiles back and pulls out his phone to order the food, “then I’ll meet you there.” 

Mingi sets you up in the bathroom with ease, making sure you have towels and everything you need. Your heat is coming, building inside your body with every cramp and rush of warm blush, but their combined scents keep things calm enough for you to take care of yourself a bit. He asks you to keep the door unlocked in case you need help, and leaves you to your moment of peace. You let the cool water settle your body, taking solace in this dip of your pre-heat before things get worse. 

When you’re done, wrapped up in fluffy towels and feeling decidedly less sticky from the combination of sweat and slick, you make your way out into the hall. There are three bedrooms, an empty one you assume is Yunho’s, one that’s been converted into an office, and then one larger room at the end of the hall that you know must be Mingi’s. 

He appears in the doorway before you make it too much further and smiles, “Feeling better?” 

“Yes, thank you so much,” 

“Mhm,” He reaches for you, “come on in, we got everything ready for you,” 

His bedroom smells overwhelmingly like cinnamon when you first cross through the door and you feel a tense flutter in your core. His room is tidy, clean and organized well, which feels surprising for Mingi given how chaotic and busy he can seem at times. The bed is made, but the covers are pulled back for you and you see a folded shirt and thin sleep pants at the edge of the bed. Yunho is sitting in a chair in the corner by the foot of the bed and waiting, the dresser adjacent to his side equipped with almost everything you’ll need. Water bottles, pain killers, and ice packs, an unfilled bowl with a few washcloths stacked inside. 

“How do you know all this?” You catch Mingi’s eye. 

“My girlfriend in college went through terrible heats,” He explains easily, directing you towards the bed, “I remember what used to make her feel a little better,” 

“Ah,” That explains so much of him, and his easy reaction to finding you in the locker room. 

“Do you need help getting dressed at all?” He asks. 

“No, I just really want to lie down,” Your limbs are starting to feel heavy and achy. 

“We’ll leave you be then,” Yunho offers, “and when the food gets here we’ll bring some in,”

“Mhm,” You sigh, sinking down onto the bed, “thank you both again, so much,” 

When you’re finally alone in Mingi’s room, you start to take stock of your body and how it feels, getting a sense of how far you are from the real thick of your heat. Judging by the intensity of your cramps and the fact that you’re starting to produce slick, you know you’re not too far off, maybe a few hours at most. The onset of your heat is normally much slower than this, a long few days of light pre-heat into a couple of days of uncomfortable cramps and extremely high arousal. On suppressants it feels easy, off them everything is unpredictable. 

You pull on the clothes they left you, but they smell like stale lavender, artificial like laundry detergent and it’s not helping. You find the hamper in the corner and toss off the top, digging through Mingi’s clothes until you find a hoodie and you bury your face in it before taking a deep inhale and letting the warm smell of him pass through you. It might be crossing a line, but you don’t really care, you need them.

A pulsing wave passes through you and you collapse back into the bed, tugging on the hoodie and curling yourself up in the covers. The bed smells like him too, and you gather a pillow to your chest and take a deep inhale. Your neediness is starting to build up again with every passing minute, flushing heat through your chest and where you were cold a moment ago you’re suddenly overheated. You kick off the covers, but keep them close, and pile the pillows around you too so you can better inhale his scent. 

Slick rushes forwards again and you bite your inner cheek to stifle a moan and keep things in check. You push off the sleep pants they had given you, and fish through your gym bag until you find a clean pair of underwear and some wipes. You clean yourself up a bit, and change your underwear for the third time today, before deciding that there’s no point in putting the pants back on. Mingi’s hoodie falls low over your shorter frame, dragging along your thighs. 

You bury yourself back in his bed, and do your best to get a little rest before what’s to come. 

When you wake, it’s to Mingi pushing back his hoodie so he can see your face a little better, “Hey,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” You sigh, “and sore,” 

“Okay,” He smiles and tugs lightly on the strings of his hoodie, “is this helping?” 

“Mm,” You nod into his palm, but nervous knots start to curl up in your belly, “where’s Yunho?” 

“I’m here,” Yunho’s voice comes from the opposite side of the bed, and you twist in the sheets to find him, a cramp pulsing through you as you do and you groan, gripping onto the bed sheets beneath you. 

“Easy,” Mingi scolds you softly, “you need all the rest you can get,” 

Yunho finds your eyes and smiles, “What’s wrong?” He asks gently, noticing your nervous fidgeting. 

“I don’t know, I thought you left,” You manage. 

“I’m an idiot,” Mingi sighs behind you and his hand that rests on your hip shifts away, “stay with her a second,” 

“Mhm,” Yunho’s eyes don’t leave you, and he reaches out to rest his hand on yours, “we’ve got dinner, and then once you eat you can rest, we won’t go anywhere.” 

You watch his face as he studies your features, his breathing slow and steady, when you hear Mingi come back into the room behind you. “Here we go,” He says, and you feel a large, soft blanket draping over you. The smell of wet earth and rain in the air fills your senses again and you drag the blanket up and around you with a sigh. 

“You’re nesting,” Yunho observes, his mouth dropping open, “of course,” 

“She couldn’t smell you in here,” Mingi explains with ease, “she needs you to relax,” 

You nod, your cheek pressed against the blanket, “You smell like a thunderstorm,” 

Yunho sits slowly on the bed by your side, brushing your hair back behind your ear and smoothing his thumb along your cheekbone, “Is that right?” he smiles. 

“I love thunderstorms,” Your eyes drift closed. 

Mingi chuckles, “I think she’s found herself a heat partner,” 

“Only if she wants one,” Yunho presses, “and only after she eats,” 

Your eyes reopen, and you push yourself up to your knees, dropping the hood of Mingi’s sweatshirt and running your hands over your warm cheeks. “We need to talk now,” You blink hard and take a deep breath, “before I get too far into this,” 

“Let’s eat then,” Mingi gestures for you to sit back more comfortably and you watch as he and Yunho both produce boxes of take out from bags on the dresser, “what are you thinking?” 

“Well,” You shift up the bed to lean against the headboard, dragging Yunho’s blanket with you, “I haven’t gone through this in a while. I’m not sure how it’s going to be, but you said you wanted to help. What did you mean by it?” 

Yunho looks like he’s not sure exactly what to say or where to start and Mingi cuts in smoothly, “I’m willing to help with all of it. If you want me gone, I’m gone. If you want help to come to take the edge off, I can do that, and if you want me to actually knot you,” he gestures for you to fill in the blanks. 

“Right,” 

“But,” Mingi cuts in and your eyes shift back to him, “You seem to want Yunho,” 

His eyes flick down to the way you’re rubbing his blanket between your thumb and forefinger and you drop it instantly, not even realizing what you were doing. Mingi smiles softly and adds, “I think you prefer his scent,” 

“No!” You exclaim, wincing at the way your body tenses up, “No, it’s not that, at all.” 

“Earlier,” Mingi takes a seat on the edge of the bed, “you said my scent was making it harder, that’s not what I want to do for you.” 

“Mingi,” You shake your head, “I meant because it’s good, both of you. So, no I don’t have a preference.” 

“Oh,” Mingi smiles, and then turns to Yunho, “how are you feeling?” 

He clears his throat softly and nods, “The same as you, I’m all in.” 

“Okay,” You exhale slowly, “then so am I,” 

Mingi passes you a take out container and a pair of chopsticks, “Eat this, okay?” 

“Mhm,” You’re caught between exhaustion and adrenaline, but you stay focused on the task at hand. You all eat quietly, the atmosphere a little awkward now that you’ve all agreed. 

As you finish the container of food, Yunho smoothly passes you another and he says, “So, you feel comfortable with us?” 

“I do,” You nod, shifting a little at a slight pain in your back, “I like you both, and if I can trust you in the studio, I can trust you with this.” 

“And if you ask us to knot you?” Mingi prompts. 

“Right,” You swallow, resting the container of food on your lap, “I guess there are some things we should say now,” 

They look at you, waiting expectantly. 

“People say things during heat,” You start, imagining all the things you might beg them for for the next few days to come. “It’s not like I’ll be out of my mind or anything, you know that,” You nod to Mingi. 

“Mhm,” 

“But it’s still hard to control,” You explain, and Yunho listens intently, “I don’t know what it’ll be like for me. It’s been a long time, but you have my permission to do whatever we need to. If I ask you to knot me, knot me.” 

“Okay,” Mingi nods, “it’s good that we’re clear.” 

You feel another flush up your chest and you breathe slowly, “But no matter what,” you hold their gazes, “if I ask you to claim me, don’t. Don’t do it, even if I tell you I’m sure.” 

“Absolutely not,” Mingi’s brow furrows, and he looks shocked that you’d even have to say it, “there’s no way.” 

“I know you know,” You swallow and reach for a water bottle on the nightstand, “but Yunho, you’ve never done this before.” 

“That might be true,” He shakes his head, “but I know you wouldn’t mean that, it would just be the heat talking,” 

“Exactly,” You nod, “I might sound like I want that or like I need that, but I don’t.” 

“Understood,” Yunho nods, “I wouldn’t, I swear,” 

You sink back into your pillows and tuck back into your box of food, “I just want you to be prepared,” you explain, “and before I start crying and begging you to give me a pup, I wanted to say it,” 

Mingi laughs into his food, choking a little, “Sorry, no, not funny,” 

You smile, the mood a little lighter now, “It’s kind of funny.” 

Yunho smiles, shifting further onto the bed as he all but inhales his noodles, “You seem a better, I thought it was going to just get worse,” 

“Oh, it will,” You shrug, “but the food is nice, and you’re both here with me. When Mingi found me I was scared and alone, which always makes it worse,” 

Mingi’s hand rubs a comforting line up your shin, “You’re very safe now,” 

“I know,” You nod. 

“Eat some more,” Yunho notices that you’ve taken too long of a pause, and he gestures for you to keep going, “and then what would be nice? Some sleep?” 

“Maybe,” You dip back into your rice, “would you stay?” 

“I’ll stay,” Yunho murmurs. 

“Me too,” Mingi adds. 

They keep on you to eat, making sure you’ve had your fill. Afterwards, you rest between them watching some television, keeping your mind off things as best you can while you’re still feeling somewhat okay. They’re careful of you though, every shift of your body and soft hiss through your teeth drawing their attention. Mingi is still cool and evenly calm, but surprisingly Yunho is too, and you wonder what they talked about while you were in the shower. Did they discuss what to do at all? What the night and the next few days would be like? 

You’re so exhausted, slipping further down into the bed, nestled in pillows and wrapped in Yunho’s blanket. They naturally gravitate closer, their hands finding their way to your skin, and you’re not sure if it’s just their alpha nature or if it’s them, but you’ve never been more grateful for it. 

The cramps start to become unbearable again soon after they start to hold you. You’re not sure if their presence is making things move more quickly, let alone being with two alphas, but within the hour the pain sets in. 

You curl into Mingi’s chest as tight pain cuts through you, “Fuck,” you pant against him, “it hurts,” 

“I know,” Mingi soothes you, scooting down the bed until he’s eye to eye with you, “but you’re not alone,” 

A sharper, biting pain rips through you and a flood of heat washes over you. You grip down hard on Yunho’s hand, curling into yourself with a taut moan, “It… it hurts,” 

“Shh,” Yunho kisses your hair, running his hand up and down the expanse of your abdomen, “I know it hurts, jagiya,” 

You whine at the name, desperate to hear him call you anything and everything. Your omega thrums inside you - every touch telling you just how much closer your heat is than you realize. “Please,” You plead, but you don’t know exactly what you’re pleading for, “I can’t breathe,” 

“Yes, you can,” Mingi tries to sooth you, his hand on your cheek, “look at me, y/n, come on omega,” 

Tears well in your eyes, heat flooding through your veins and a pulsating need fluttering through you. If they don’t touch you, you might wither into nothing. Your hips tuck back into Yunho’s and you groan, “I can’t,” 

“She’s burning up,” Yunho murmurs from your side. 

“Let’s take this off then,” Mingi tugs on the sleeves of his hoodie slowly, coaxing your arm through. He can see your rising panic at the idea you won't be wrapped in their scents, but he shakes his head slowly, “easy, love, let your alphas help,” 

As the heavy sweatshirt is pulled away, you drop back on the bedding between them. The thin t-shirt they gave you is all but soaked through with sweat, sticking to your curves. Your head is aching, waves of feverish heat washing over you again and again, and you whimper, your legs twitching as you try to find a somewhat comfortable position. 

“Hey, hey,” Yunho’s thumb settles over the swollen gland in your neck, and he strokes it soft and slow, “just breathe,” 

It settles you, just a bit, and you let your eyes drift shut. With a sigh you reach for Mingi just to feel a bit of his skin on yours, “I’m not even properly in heat yet and I feel like I could crawl out of my skin,” 

“Hot?” Mingi brushes the damp hair back from your forehead. 

“It’s like my skin is tingling,” You murmur, “like a nerve,”

“Okay,” He nods. He shifts off the bed and your eyes flutter open. Mingi soothes you with a gentle hand, before moving towards the dresser, “Yunho, get those clothes off her,” 

Yunho’s eyes lock on yours, “Can I?” 

You nod, your head feeling full and pained. 

Yunho’s hand slips under the edge of your damp shirt, coasting up your stomach as he pushes the fabric up and the drag of his hot hand sends a pulse through your body. You moan, head dropping back into the bedding, and you feel another gush of slick. 

“It’s okay,” Yunho soothes as you he drops your shirt to the side of the bed, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” 

You huff, a light laugh as you shake your head, “Easy for you to say, you’re not falling apart whenever I touch you,” 

“Yet,” He smiles. 

“Who are you kidding?” Mingi returns to your bedside with a bowl of cool ice water and a damp washcloth. He throws a smile at his friend before ringing out the washcloth over the bowl, “The minute you saw us in the hall you were all alpha protection mode, scenting her and everything,” 

“Shut up,” 

You grin, but Mingi sweeps a cold line up your body with the cloth and you shudder, “Fuck, that’s nice,” 

“Good,” Mingi murmurs, passing another wet washcloth to Yunho. When Mingi presses a firm line up your chest, and sweeping a little too close to your neck your body arches and your nipples harden into painful peaks. 

You blush hard and drop a hand over your face, “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” 

“Why?” Yunho asks gently, wiping your brow with the cool cloth. 

“We work together,” You sigh, “closely together… I probably should have made you take me home or something but,”

“Do knotting dildos even really help?” Mingi asks bluntly. 

“I mean,” You shrug, “they get the job done,”  

“Hmm,” Mingi shakes his head, “not with a heat like this,” 

“Maybe,” You sigh. 

“y/n,” Yunho asks, “have you had a heat partner before? Have you been knotted?” 

“A long time ago,” You nod, “it wasn’t a great experience, but you know, it is what it is.” 

Yunho passes the cloth down your chest and you shudder, but he keeps the conversation going, “Why in the world are you off your suppressants then?” 

Your eyes flick down, and you swallow hard, “I can’t afford them right now,” 

“Wait,” Mingi shakes his head, “what?” 

“The brand I’m on is the only one that works for me,” You explain, “they’re not priced like the generics, and I don’t have coverage yet. I’ve been rationing them out, but,” 

“You should have talked to me about it,” Yunho shakes his head, brows knit together in concern, “we could have done something for you,” 

“Yunho,” You meet his eyes, “I appreciate that, but I’m still kind of new here. I’m just trying to prove I belong here, and I didn’t want a reason to need a special exception.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but settles on nodding, “I can understand that.” 

“I’m,” You tense up as your cramps intensify, “I’m glad to know I can talk to you, I’ll do it in the future, I just couldn’t come to you about this.” 

“Alright,” He nods, his voice shifting to soothe again as your eyes clamp tightly shut. 

“Are they worse?” Mingi asks. 

You can’t answer, not yet, your muscles are locked up in crippling pain and you feel like you’re drowning in a sudden wave of hot air. You gasp as you feel your body produce more slick, your thighs surely sticky now, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of their hands and where they rest on your body. 

“I think,” Your hips jerk as Mingi slides the washcloth just an inch up your side, “oh God, I think,” 

“Okay,” Yunho pets your hair gently, “okay, just breathe,” 

Your fingers tighten in the sheets beneath you and an overwhelming ache between your thighs reminds you just how empty your body is. You press your thighs together, feeling a throb in your core, and you can’t stop the whimper that bubbles from your lips. 

“Let’s get these off too,” Mingi murmurs, his hands settling on your hip and tugging at your underwear to slowly peel them off.  

Things are spinning around you, tense and painful suddenly and no amount of cool washcloths or gentle touches are going to help you now. Your vision feels blurry, and you curl into yourself, tucking your body into Yunho’s chest with a pained hiss. 

“Oh, come here,” Yunho tucks you close, “I’ve got you,”

“Alpha,” You feel like crying suddenly, your stomach tense, “alpha, please,” 

“What, jagiya?” Yunho murmurs against your hair. 

You can’t explain what you need, all you know is that you can’t feel him close enough and you push the edges of his shirt up to try and find more of him, “Please,” you whine as you try to feel more of his skin on yours. 

“Whoa, whoa,” He tries to catch your hands but it just makes you more tense. 

“K-knot me,” Your stomach cramps, your cunt feeling swollen and sensitive, “please,” 

“y/n,” Yunho tries again to pull your hands away but you drive forwards, pressing your cheek against his bare chest where his shirt is ridden all the way up and you sigh into his skin, pressing frantic kisses along his body. 

“Please,” You beg again, “I’ll be so good for you, so good,” 

“I know you will,” He manages, but he can’t deter you, and you feel the moment his body responds to yours. His hands tighten pleasantly on your hips, and you hear the change in his breath. He releases your hands and swallows hard, “Alright, alright,” 

“No,” Mingi interrupts, “not yet,” 

“Why?” You sob. 

“You’re not ready yet,” He soothes, shifting closer behind you and placing a warm kiss on your bare back, “and Yunho and I are not going to hurt you tonight,” 

“I don’t care,” Your hands slide down Yunho’s chest, searching for his waistband. 

“Mingi’s right,” Yunho groans, attempting to disconnect your hands from him. 

“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is firm, and your hands fall away, “be still.” You’re sure you’re shaking like a leaf, and he sighs, “You need a little sleep,” 

“I can’t sleep like this,” You shake your head, “everything hurts so much,” 

“We’ll help with that,” Mingi pulls you away from Yunho’s chest, ignoring your tense whine at being pulled away from him, and slides a hand down your thigh to press your legs open, “we’ll help you sleep,” 

Yunho rests his hand on your inner thigh, bending your knee to open you up for Mingi’s hand, “Let your alphas make you feel good,” 

You’re shaking in their grip, Yunho’s hand feeling like a lead weight, and Mingi settles down low by your side so that you’re almost nose to nose, holding your gaze as his fingers gently sink into your wet folds. 

“P-please,” The sound in your throat is tight, “I need you to fuck me,” 

“Mhm,” Mingi nods, unfazed by your sudden shift in demeanor as your heat finally starts to build, “we will, but not yet,” 

You stifle a groan and turn your head away from him, tears gathering in your eyes as Mingi’s middle finger flattens out over your clit and starts to rock. All it does is stoke heat inside you and your vision blurs, the empty pocket inside you aching like never before. “Alpha,” You sob, “it’s not enough,” 

You expect Mingi to respond, but instead it’s Yunho, cupping your cheek and drawing your face towards his, “Shh,” he shakes his head, a gentle expression on his face, “we have you, sweetheart,” 

Something in his face calms you for a moment, the feeling of his warm gaze filling you and you want nothing more than to know he likes you. Approves of you. Your breath is slight, just a whisper in your throat. 

Seeing your response he slides forwards, pressing his mouth to yours in a warm, tender kiss. His hand slips down and he brushes over your gland again to keep you at ease, “Be patient for us,” he kisses you again, “and you know we’ll knot you nice and full,” 

With a desperate pant you catch his mouth again, moaning against his mouth when Mingi finally, finally sinks a finger deep inside your aching core. 

“You’re still so tight, omega,” Mingi murmurs. He pushes a second finger inside and starts to pump them in and out, and it’s not enough, nowhere near enough, but little blooms of pleasure spark up your spine and you fall back from Yunho into the bedding once more. 

“More,” You widen your legs and cant your hips, “please, Mingi, please,” 

He presses his lips to your forehead, nuzzling you softly until his mouth is close to your ear, “You’re so beautiful, omega. Did you know that?” 

A wash of pleasure crashes through you and his fingers speed up, pushing into you more firmly, his thumb catching against your clit to heighten every thrust. You moan against him, gripping hard on his shirt and jutting your hips into his hand. 

“And so good for us,” Yunho kisses your shoulder, traveling down until lips close around one of your stiff nipples. 

“Ah,” You arch into his mouth, “ah, god,” 

“Close already, omega?” Mingi teases, shaking his head despite the smile across his lips, “Are you that sensitive?” 

“D-don’t tease me,” Hot pleasure sparks up your body and your head twists back, your body tight and stiff. 

“Then come,” Mingi bites down on your earlobe gently and you whine. 

“Do as your told,” Yunho urges you, sucking hard on your nipple and pressing your leg open wider, “our sweet little omega,” 

You come so hard your brain whites out, your ears ringing and your body trembling. After an entire week of build up to your heat, and hours of feeling like your body was being stretched out long like a rubber band, snapping apart in their hands hits you so much harder than you ever could have imagined. 

Your brain reconnects when you feel Yunho’s soft blanket tucked around your naked body, and you’re too exhausted to open your eyes, but you feel them cuddle close before you drop off into sleep drowning in cedar and cinnamon. 

You have no idea what time it is when you wake again, your brain is too foggy and pained to even check the time. All you know is desperate need, all consuming emptiness and aching. When you reach out in front of you, the bed is empty and you stifle a sob. You’re alone, they’ve left you alone. You’re alone and you’re in heat, and you thought they wanted you, but all you can feel is shame. The primal part of your brain tells you that you’re not good enough, that if you had been a better omega for them they would have stayed. You’d be good and knotted by now. 

Curling into the sheets you try to push yourself up, but find the effort even harder than before. You’re soaked in sweat, trembling uncontrollably, and the throbbing pulse of your cunt is so heady that you find yourself seeking any friction at all, squeezing your thighs tight and grinding against the balled up comforter. 

You feel a body roll behind you, shifting closer, and when you hear his groggy, sleepy groan, you almost cry in relief. “A-alpha?” You can’t move too much, too it’s too painful, but you reach back for him. 

“Hey,” Yunho’s voice is a little hoarse, and it takes him a minute to realize what’s going on, but in the early morning faded light he watches the way you’re struggling. “Oh,” he breathes, “it’s really started,” 

You nod desperately, “I need help, alpha, please,” 

“Okay,” His voice drops, and he slides across the bed to slot himself perfectly behind you, “I’m going to take care of you now,” 

“Y-Yunho,” You squeeze yourself further back into him, “I’m so empty,” 

His face is above yours now, studying your expression to try and determine if this is really it, and you don’t know where Mingi is to guide the situation but at the feeling of Yunho’s body behind yours, your will to care is fading away into nothing. He’s not touching you fast enough, and with a whimper, you twist your head in the sheets, bearing your neck and submitting. 

“Oh,” Yunho’s hands tighten on you, “oh,” 

“Please,” You press again, “it hurts, alpha,” 

His cock stiffens behind you, and you almost cry in relief, rolling your hips back against him. “Fuck,” His face drops against your hair, “oh my god,” 

“Inside me,” You beg, reaching back and tugging at his shirt, “now, please,” 

He moves so much more quickly this time, pushing down his sweats and reaching between your thighs to check you, finding you soaked with slick and aching for him. You moan when you feel the press of his cockhead against your entrance, and in one fluid motion he slides home, fully seating himself inside you. 

You’re shaking in his arms, the feeling of being this full making you almost delirious with joy. Yunho doesn’t move though. He has you pulled as close as possible so that your back is flush with his chest, arms wrapped around you and keeping you perfectly still. His forehead rests against the top of your head and you can hear his shaky breath. You need him to move, to fuck you, to fill you with pups and never leave you, but he doesn’t. 

Slowly, his hips draw back just a little before sinking forward again, thrusting inside your tight channel experimentally like he’s trying to get a feel for you. Despite how your body prepared you for this, making you wet and relaxed to be able to accommodate an alpha’s knot, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is almost enough to make you come right then and there. 

He thrusts again, slowly, and you whimper against him. You need more, and fast.

Yunho groans as he holds himself deeply inside you again, caressing your body with his free hand, “You are the best thing I’ve felt in my entire life,” 

Your brain spins, pleasure flooding you and distantly you can hear yourself asking him to knot you. You’re not prepared for what he’ll feel like fucking you in earnest. 

“Is that what my girl needs?” Yunho pants, and hand locking down over your hip to help pull your body back against his hard thrusts. 

“God, please!” Your eyes close, falling apart into the sensations of him inside you. 

He groans against you, “Tell me what you need, omega,” 

The low tenor of his voice is nothing but alpha now, his instincts guiding him just as much as yours. You’re never going to last, not if he’s going to talk to you like this. With a taut moan you beg him, “Fill me up, alpha please, knot me please,” 

His hand slides up your chest, up your neck until you’re shaking with need, and closes his fingers on your jaw until he draws your face up so he can watch your eyes. His hips shift their pace, no longer driving into you with frantic need but instead firm, deep thrusts of his cock. His eyes are blown wide with desire, his mouth falling open as he watches you falling apart on his cock, “You’re all fucking mine,” 

You nod, hot tears gathering in your eyes from the overwhelming sensation and you cry out desperately for more. 

“All mine,” He repeats and surges forwards to lock his lips on yours, “you belong to me,”

“Yes!” You choke, “I’m yours, only yours,” 

“Good girl,” He angles his hips, and on the next thrust you’re spinning fast into the crest of your orgasm. With his face pressed against you, his lips at your ear, his next words snap you open. “I’ll give you perfect pups,” He pants, his knot swelling, “I’ll breed you so full,” 

There’s nothing now but the feeling of him, all encompassing as your orgasm crashes down over you, muscles spasming around his hard length. You’re a babbling mess, but so is he, so close to coming that the first sensation as your eyes reopen is his knot pressing hard at your opening. 

He’s so large already, larger than any partner or knotting dildo you’ve ever used, and you scramble a little in his hold, “Y-Yunho, I can’t,” 

“Shh,” He holds you against him, “you can, I know you can,” 

Pushing your hips down with his broad hands, he angles himself upwards until you feel the pressure of his knot pushing past your entrance and finally slipping inside you fully. It burns, your body aching to accommodate him, but with the way he’s holding you and the throb of his cock inside you, none of that matters. 

He grinds his hips desperately into you, his knot swelling further inside you, and when he comes, releasing hot with a shuddering groan, you finally feel sated. Your body melts into him, pleasantly foggy and at ease, his knot no longer uncomfortable but essential. 

You’re finally, finally full. 

It takes time for Yunho to come back to his senses, his hands still locked on your skin and breathing shaky as he tries to regulate it. You realize now that you have a little clarity that it was his first time. Deep, instinctual need had guided him, but the longer he stays quiet, the longer you wonder if you did well for him. 

After another minute or two you find his hand and lace your fingers together, “Yunho?” 

“Yes?” He murmurs from behind you, his forehead still against your hair. 

“Can you hold me please?” You murmur, squeezing his hand. 

“Come here,” He sighs, shifting slightly to spoon you properly. As he does, the knot locked inside you shifts and you make a startled hum at the sensation. He smooths your hair back and tries to get a good look at you, “Does that hurt?” 

“No,” You shake your head, adjusting so that you’re resting on his bicep, “I just feel full,” 

“Mm,” He kisses your temple, nuzzling your skin with his nose as he breathes in your scent, “you’re perfect,” 

Warmth blooms in your chest, “So are you,” 

“I want you like that again and again,” His hand slips out of yours so that he can coast it over your body, feeling your warm skin under his hands. 

“You can have me like that again and again,” You smile, “I’ll be in heat for days.” 

“Days of this,” He sighs, his hand dipping down over your hip and settling over your stomach. He inches his fingers down, passing over your sensitive nub and feeling the place where your bodies connect, locked together. 

“Does it feel good for you too?” You murmur, a little breathy as his hand slips back over your clit. 

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” He presses closer to you, “it’s incredible,” 

You chuckle, kissing his arm and relaxing further into his touch. You’re about to agree, to say more, to confess that in truth it’s your only experience in heat that so far hasn’t been terrible, but the door to the bedroom opens and Yunho tenses. 

Mingi opens the door slowly, and Yunho pulls you close, his hand closing over your stomach and his other arm wrapping around your shoulders. It’s just Mingi, but Yunho’s brain must still be fogged with the intrinsic need to protect you and in the presence of another alpha, he can’t see that it’s just his friend. 

“Mingi,” You shake your head, feeling how tense Yunho is behind you, “give him a minute,” 

“You’re okay?” He checks, staying rooted to the spot at the door, knowing that Yunho could hurt you if he stops thinking straight and tries to defend you against the imagined threat of another alpha. 

“I’m perfect,” You assure him, “I promise,” 

“Is he?” Mingi looks anxious. 

“He’s fine,” You nod, smoothing your hand across his arm to try and relieve some of his tension, “but we need some more time.” 

Mingi nods, “Come find me when you’re done,”

“We will,” 

Mingi’s eyes flick to Yunho, “Be careful with her,” 

“I got it,” Yunho’s voice sounds strained. 

Mingi nods once, and then disappears, leaving the door open, and you suspect it's so he can hear things a little better should you need him. Yunho’s muscles unlock slowly, his thumb unconsciously rubbing a steady line over your abdomen, and he exhales heavily into your hair.   

After a while, you expect his knot to have gone down, but he’s just as locked inside you as ever. The overwhelming alpha quality though has started to fade, and you rest lazily in his arms as he plays with your fingers and waits it out. 

“Does it normally take this long?” He asks finally. 

“Not usually,” You shake your head, “but it’s your first time knotting someone properly, so it might just take a little bit.�� 

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs. 

“Why?” You tug him a little closer to your back, “This is exactly what I need,” 

“Everything felt right?” He pushes himself up onto one elbow so that he can look down at you a little better, propping his head in his hand. 

“Mhm,” You assure him, “Better than right,” 

He smiles, his eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“What about for you?” You bring him back to center, rubbing a circle into his palm with the pad of your thumb. 

“It wasn’t what I expected,” He says honestly, and your mouth drops open. “No, no,” He cups your cheek, “I meant that it was just… much more intense than I expected. I said a lot of things to you, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that type of thing was just played up in porn,” 

“Oh,” You grin, delighted a little by the way his ears run red. 

“Yeah,” He smiles, blush creeping into his cheeks now, “I just couldn’t stop myself,” 

“Mm,” You nod, “I get it, completely. This is why I wanted to talk before I was in heat,” 

“Was it too much?” He checks in. 

“No,” You assure him, “It was just what I needed to hear, and it doesn’t mean anything outside of my heat, it’s just instinct.” 

He nods and sighs, dropping back to the bed and cuddling you close again, “Good,” he murmurs, “then don’t worry about how clingy I’m about to get,” 

“You? Clingy?” You giggle against his chest, “I don’t believe it,” 

“I’m a softie,” He shrugs, “I don’t know what to tell you,” 

“But you always seem so serious at the studio,” You murmur, “and I’ve seen you go out with a lot of women,” 

“Ah,” He laughs, “well the studio is work, and I’m responsible for a lot there. And as far as the dates,” he corrects, “I am trying to appease my mother because she desperately wants me to find a wife, which I’m not really focused on right now, but she’s pretty obstinate.” 

“Such a mystery, Jeong Yunho,” You prod him lightly. 

“Not really,” He kisses your hair, sighing into you, “I’m just a guy,” 

You hum and let your eyes drift closed as he holds you. 

He yawns and sighs again, “So, forgive me if I cuddle you to death while you’re here, like I said, softie,” 

“I’m not complaining,” You sink into his touch. 

He groans a little, his knot finally softening but he stops you when you shift your hips, “Go slow, I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“It’s okay,” You assure him, feeling the way his knot fades down into being barely there. His cock starts to soften, and you slowly ease your way forwards while he shifts his hips back, disconnecting you both with a soft wet sound. 

His release floods out of you, leaving you messy and sticky, but Yunho kisses your shoulder and shifts away, “Hold tight, I’ll get a towel,” 

He seems incredibly unembarrassed about the messy state of heat sex, which you’re eternally grateful for, and within a few minutes you’re cleaned up and dressed again in yet another pair of clean underwear and one of the largest shirts of Mingi’s that you’ve ever seen. 

“How are you feeling?” Yunho asks as you finish cleaning your face up in the mirror of Mingi’s bathroom.

“A little sore,” You tell him honestly, “and cramping a little again, but it’s not too bad yet.” 

“You want to come see Mingi then? Get out of this room for a minute?” He brushes his fingers down your back as he watches you in the mirror. 

“Perfect,” 

In the living room, Mingi is waiting. He’s pouring over with nervous energy, his leg bouncing and his fingers fidgeting with his phone, refreshing his social media feed over and over again. The television is on, but he’s clearly not watching, and instead you see him perk up at the first sounds of you emerging from the bedroom. 

“Hey,” He twists around on the couch, looking a little relieved when he sees you completely fine and cleaned up wearing one of his t-shirts. 

“Hey,” You smile, moving towards the couch, “can I sit?” 

“Of course,” He gestures towards the couch, but that’s not exactly what you meant. The sight of him waiting for you, and the palpable taste of his anxiety in the air makes you feel needed, and you push his arms open to settle in his lap. 

“Oh,” He adjusts his legs to give you a better seat and winds his arm around your back, “is everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” You take his hand, rubbing your thumb gently over the gland in his wrist to soothe him, “you can relax, I’m perfectly fine,” 

Yunho takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch, chewing the inside of his cheek as he watches you and Mingi together. With a nudge to his friend’s thigh he gets Mingi’s attention and shakes his head, “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” 

“It’s cool,” Mingi shrugs, “I know the feeling.” 

“Where did you go, anyways?” You ask, leaning into his chest. The familiarity between the three of you should feel strange, before last night you really were only coworkers to each other. You might have even become friends, but now you’ve pushed so far past that you don’t know what you are except to accept that their hands on your skin feels right. 

“I shouldn’t have left, I could feel you were getting restless,” he explains, “I went to make you some broth and get cold water, just putting a few things together, but by the time I got back you were both in it,” 

“Ah,” You blush looking down at your hands, “sorry,” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Mingi’s broad, warm hand rests on your bare thigh and gives you a subtle squeeze, “I’m glad Yunho could help. I just didn’t think it would be smart to interrupt you,” 

“Good thinking,” Yunho adds, running a hand over his face and sighing, “you were right,” 

“I told you,” Mingi nods, “it can be intense,” 

Yunho passes a hand over your shin before pushing himself back up to stand and he stretches long and tall before groaning, “Alright, I’m starving.” 

You clap a hand over your mouth, chuckling into your palm, “Classic,” 

“Can I make you something?” He asks, “Either of you?” 

Mingi shakes his head, “I’m good,” 

“Me too,” You agree, “I should be hungry, but I’m really not,” 

Mingi’s nose crinkles, “You should still eat,” 

“Maybe in a bit,” You try to appease him. 

“In a bit you’ll be jumping our bones again,” Mingi counters. 

“I know,” You sigh, “but really, I’m okay. I feel pretty good,” 

“This is really just because it’s day one right?” Yunho asks, a little less joking than before. 

“Yeah,” You nod, “day one and two are never as bad, and you definitely have more lucidity as long as you’re managing the spikes well. Day three, four, and sometimes five if it lasts that long, are usually a lot harder.” 

“How much is a lot?” Yunho asks, stepping close and running his hand over your hair, “You were already in a lot of pain,” 

“I’ll be less coherent, and the fever can be worse. I probably won’t have down time like this,” You explain, “the pain isn’t necessarily worse, it’s just more consistent,” 

He frowns, “Then you’re eating now,” 

You sigh heavily and shake your head, “Honestly, you don’t need to, I can make myself something in a bit or,” 

Mingi cuts you off and makes a dismissive noise with his tongue against his teeth, “y/n, relax. This is what we meant when we said we’d help you through your heat. It’s more than just orgasms and knots,” 

You swallow back your words, holding his gaze. 

“Alphas are meant to provide,” He reminds you, “so let us,” 

A flutter of warmth bubbles through you, and you can only nod, no use arguing now when your mind is spinning and telling you to accept. Yunho drops a quick kiss on the top of your head, before disappearing into the kitchen. You’ve never had an alpha provide, never once. In your limited experience before going on suppressants, you were used to being knotted incredibly quickly and then left alone, or having a partner that never really knew how to fully satisfy, leaving you to feverishly deal with your needs while they slept. You’ve never experienced a heat where you felt wanted before. 

You ease into Mingi’s chest, resting a head on his shoulder and letting your muscles relax for as long as you can. They make you food, massage your sore hips, and keep you distracted with stories and memories from before your time at the studio. They hold you close, and they ease your pain, they provide.